Monday, 29 November 2010

Operation Mojo: Day 1: Hippy Cure

I have decided, rather than wait for my mojo to come back of its own volition, I have to actively pursue it. So I have given myself a task; every day this week I am going to try something different to regain my mojo.

Today is the turn of the hippy cure.

I've mentioned my in-laws and their crystal-waving ways before. I love them dearly, but they are on a whole different plain spiritually to me. They are the only people close to us who don't know about our quest for kids. We've wanted to tell them, we've even tried to tell them. I've blogged about it, several times. But I can't think of the words, and the husband is petrified of us being overwhelmed with new age cures.

However, it isn't just a barren womb that would prompt an inundatement of magic. The husband complained to them that he was still suffering after-effects of the dysentery. So they sent down some magic stickers.

I promise you I am not making this up.

Apparently the symbol on these stickers holds some arcane secret. You put one on the inside of your wrist (exhibit a)

Exhibit A

And (I quote) "The sticker will stay on as long as it needs."

So with nothing better to do I popped one on last Thursday. It is winter so I thought with long sleeves it would remain undetected. I now realise that I have a little 'tell' in meetings, when making a point I have a habit of pushing my sleeves up my arms, and in the past few days that body tick has been swiftly followed by me hurriedly pulling the sleeves right back down again.

The sticker fell off today (leaving an itchy red mark), so according to the rules that was as long as I needed.

Mojo still hovering at a lethargic, disgruntled two out of ten. That'll be a fail for the magic stickers.

Going to try something new tomorrow.


  1. Oh my. That is a new one for me! Good luck finding your mojo!

  2. Hmmm. Stickers eh? Interesting.

    I hope who/whatever has stolen your mojo returns it asap. This arctic weather we're having requires some cosy nights in!*

    *Unless you're not really in the UK but in some distant hot land pretending to be a London village local.. Pah!

  3. Do you think your mojo might possibly be at Gandhi's? Happy to have a look there soon?

  4. Love it, stickers! I hope you find your mojo soon. I fond wine, chocolate and shopping helps a little!

  5. Oh, I didn't realise P2's family were fruitloops! That is brilliant. Pls tell them, just so we can find out what they'll send down. X

  6. But do you still suffer from dysentery?

    Maybe your in-laws could imbue some of the stickers around our house with some magic. I find myself wearing stickers frequently.

  7. stickers?! Splendid. A woo that had escaped me. I see it is as effective as all other woos. Hopefully the mojo will return with whatever tomorrow holds.

  8. Wow. I wonder why I've never heard of those stickers before? Hmmm....

  9. Or you could be like me, my Catholic mother-in-law said the rosary everyday and also made a promise to leave flowers at the feet of the Virgin Mary when a child was born. My agnostic mother in the other hand convinced me to go to the acupuncturist weekly and he would make 6 bags of blended herbs (looked like stick, twigs and "earthy" things) - which I had to brew, strain and drink. It was the most putrid stuff ever. But between the two (ok, three as my husband helped also) something finally worked, my son was born on St Patrick's Day 2010. You never know, those stickers just might be the magic ticket. Whatever it takes, right?

  10. Course, those are magic anti-dysentery stickers. What you needed was the magic I-lost-my-Mojo-due-to-infertility-related-stress stickers. I mean, really.

    No doubt your in-laws have just the thing.
    They sound so nice, with their stickers. Sweet.

  11. the sticker may have not brought your mojo back, but your bowels should be working perfectly by now...

  12. "Stay on as long as it needs to", see, maybe we should try that with IF drugs...

  13. Sorry to hear that they didn't work. But look at it this way, if anybody spotted the sticker they'll have assumed that it's, a) a newfangled nicotine patch, or, b) a stick-on form of birth control. God. The irony.

  14. I did magic runic symbols at one point. Um. That went... apathetically. And me a grumpy atheistical science nerd and all. Serves me right.

    I have a woo-woo auntie, who I did come out of the IF closet to, and who promptly went from Favourite Dear Old Mad Auntie to Tiresome Heartless Woo-Merchant Auntie in about three sentences. Not that that heartens you in the slightest, and therefore I am deeply unhelpful. My point being, the worst of it is absolutely not the deluge of twigs, leaves, stickers and yoga posture suggestions, but the relentless grinding assumption that somehow it's my fault because I am not sufficiently filled with Awareness and Love and keep my chakras tight-shut and haven't fasted my way to Mental and Physical Purity.

    Anyway, your post is giving off a good, high blog-mojo rating of amusing and interesting, so even if you're not quite feeling it, you're definitely giving it.


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