NOLA Chic Tarot Card Palm Reading

NOLA Chic’s 1st Tarot Card Reading on Bourbon St

My niece and I decided to do “Bourbon St” after dinner, and as we walked down the always busy famous street, she noticed a woman, a Gypsy, sitting at her woman sitting at her “workstation,” which was composed of a small table covered with a table-cloth, burning candle incense. She was finishing up a couple who gave her an embrace before leaving, she smiled and thanked them, and that’s when my niece recognized her. The woman’s smile had a few missing teeth, but she wore it well lol.

Boiled Shrimp and Boudain Balls
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Tarot Card Table

My niece ran into her in Jackson Square over a year ago on her way home late one night. She was upset with her boyfriend, and the woman approached her, offering free reading after noticing her tear-stained face, but we would realize her reading would bear some truth.

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Tarot Table in Jackson Square

The next moment my niece pulled me to the woman’s station to show off her baby bump. Her first reading with her would reveal one of her tarot cards would tell of her being a new mom, and here she was pregnant, not even four months later. They exchanged pleasantries, followed by my niece, asking her for a reading for me. I said I didn’t believe in Tarot Cards, Voodoo and etc., but my niece pleaded with me by rubbing her new baby bump suggesting that the Gypsy foresaw it. I thought it was just luck on the Tarot readers part. Plus, anyone could have guessed that a young woman crying over her boyfriend in the middle of the French Quarters was either PMS’s or pregnant lol. She pressed on, “Give her a try, she been out here all day trying to make some money in this hot sticky city. Plus, she’s the real deal.” I thought to myself, she’s so much of the real deal that she hasn’t made money to get her mouth fixed and she’s working on Bourbon St with the rest of the hustlers… The Gypsy added, “How about I read you for free, honey?” I finally agreed and was surprised as you will hear.

Being a New Orleanian, I have been asked beaucoup times not only about, but if I do Voodoo?? Do I know anyone who does Voodoo?? At times I was told that all New Orleans people practice Voodoo, it used to piss me off and anger me, but I have written it off as ignorance.

It took me to educate myself on Voodoo, well there’s a refined version called Hoodoo, and neither is what people think. It’s not this scary dark pin poking doll hocus pocus the type of witchery going on, but it’s a form of religion as any other religion.
Voodoo is a religion with origins in Africa and Haiti, but not how the media shows it. I’m still learning, going into the real shops, talking to others who hide behind their beliefs, because of fear of judgment from us. But as with religion, there’s so much to learn. I’m in the beginning stages, but I will make a blog about what I learned so far.
If you frequent Bourbon St, you probably have seen this lady, but tell me you think of my session and your take on this topic on Voodoo???

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Tarot Card Reading on Bourbon St

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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