cosmic orders & deliveries

My Brit aunt is very esoteric, and always has the most fascinating herbal-infused, crystal healing, alpha-wave mantra CDs for every ailment out there.
She's brilliant. And she's well-versed in natural medicines, and has done heaps of research.

There's a solution for everything - and most of the time it comes in a hemp-fabric bag where something will pop out and start chanting.

This weekend she told me about this German woman who wrote a book about Ordering Requests From The Cosmic Universe.

It is as ridiculous as it sounds, but armed with Usher (I'm obsessed with his latest album at the moment) and nothing much else to do on my flight home, I read the thing from cover to cover.
And I'll be damned if I don't give it a bloody good bash.

It's not long, and the concept is simple: all you have to do is ask the 'universe' for what you want in a specific way, and you'll get it.
And you should give time limits.

Now imagine that: 'Universe, I want a truckload of doileys, by Wednesday next week.'

She claims that she always gets stuff when she asks the universe. She also sets a couple of rules for maximum delivery potential. (She talks about requesting of the universe exactly as you would a catalogue order. You place an order, and wait for delivery.)

Now I've asked the universe for lots of things, and mostly in dire circumstances.

For instance: “May this queue go faster, please, seriously please. I'm about to pee in my pants, save me the humiliation so help me God.”
Or,“Shit, I haven't paid my fines, and there's a roadblock and I'm going to go to jail....please may this not happen.”
And “Please may this person grow a penis between his eyes, because he bloody well deserves it.”

Or whatever.

But she reckons this is the wrong way to do things. How you ask the universe for deliveries is very important. You shouldn't feel bad for asking, in fact you'll get thrown onto the 'VIP loyal customer' list if you do this regularly.

But there are rules. Like with everything. Irritatingly.

Ask when you're in a happy upbeat frame of mind
This rules out traffic jams. Huge oversight.

Specify a delivery date. But don't have high expectations, in fact try to forget your order.
Like if your Nan sent you a letter using the South African postal service, don't expect much. But know it might actually even arrive.

Ask in a positive way, scratch out the words 'no' and 'not.'
This obviously means asking the universe to grow a penis on someone's face probably won't work. Wishing shit on others isn't what Universe, Esquire, digs. Worth a shot though, surely?

Give specifics as in, “Please may in 4 months, a Latino guy with brown eyes, and who likes using finger paints on walls and plays the banjo, fall at my feet.”
You're allowed to be specific and idealistic about your order.

Don't nag and repeat your order number/semantics over and over.Just ask once. You know how call centres can be. They don't wanna deal with your incessant whining.

Generally have good karma and love your neighbour even if it prangs your car while driving it's taxi. Or it calls you a cunt.

You can place a cosmic order anywhere.
In the bath tub, on the balcony, on the Algarve. Whilst counting Usher's chest hairs.

That's about the jist of it. Oh she says to try little orders to start with, to test the vibe out.

I did this yesterday. “Please may my flight arrive on time so that I'm not stuck in traffic on the R24 for 3 hours.” And my delivery slot was “By 9:00am, I want to be in the office.”

Didn't work. I mean, I got in at 9:20am.

I will experiment with little ones, while I wait for the big order I made, which is in the post. To be dispensed to me within a certain period. I whordered a delivery. Let's see if it materialises.

In the meantime, my small orders are:
1)Please may I have a camembert in my fridge by the end of the week. Even if I put it there without remembering and think it's the Universe, that's fine.

2)If I email Usher, please could he email me back. Timeline=preferably tomorrow.

3)My London mates keep complaining about their Heathrow Injection. They've been slotting all the cornish pasties. Well I haven't done badly myself, and so, by next week, may I have lost 2 kilogammes.

Cool that's all. I shall try to forget them and see if they are delivered.

PS: Also never forget to thank the universe if you do get something. Dad's trying to get hold of Clint Eastwood, and I'm trying to get hold of Usher.

Thanks Universe, that I am not turning into my father. Oh wait.