Cardiogirl: 19% body fat 100% fun

Sometimes God answers my prayers and when He does I’m jacked.

Now there are people who will say that He answers every prayer and when He ignores me has no discernible response that means His answer is, “No.”

That doesn’t work for me since I am a black and white thinker.

If what I’m asking for doesn’t happen I just assume I got a busy signal and I need to keep asking. So far my track record on I’m-sort-of-asking-for-a-miracle prayers is zero; no reply. That sucks.

But my track record on small, sarcastic prayers is roughly 40/60. Many mornings I ask God to please let there be a clean white shirt for each one of my kids. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. But recently a standard prayer of mine got the green light. When luck
is
with me,
I can catch
an episode
of “Dateline” with
Keith Morrison.

I have been praying that my cable provider would add Investigation Discovery to the basic cable line up. Perhaps a lesser woman would have given up after a year or two, but my tenacity has finally paid off.

About a month ago I was flicking through the stations and suddenly there it was — manna from Heaven.

I can now plug into true crime 24/7. My kids call them my freaky shows and since my freaky shows have returned I could not be happier. I really find human behavior fascinating. I have no idea why some people believe murder is their only option. I just don’t get it.

I also find it amazing that a person would murder someone and then go to Home Depot wearing a baseball cap to buy two extra-large canvas tarps with his own credit card.

Then, that same person has the balls to sit in the police station and deny that he was ever at the store.

The cop: “We’ve got you on a surveillance tape buying a tarp with your credit card.”

The dude who’s totally guilty: “That wasn’t me.”

The cop: “You expect me to believe that you never went to the store and that you never used your own credit card to purchase a canvas tarp to wrap up your ex-wife’s body? You also expect me to believe that you never went to the landfill that your father owns to dump her body?”

The dude who’s totally guilty: “That was not me. I’ve never been to Home Depot.”

That’s when the cop pauses and says, “How did you know it was Home Depot? I never mentioned the name of the store.”

Bus. Ted! Roll the credits on another satisfying episode and praise Jesus.

I have been waiting to watch TLC’s new show, “Long Island Medium” for a while now. But I can never remember when it’s on so it’s sheer luck if I catch an episode. And, as luck would have it, the stars aligned last night and I saw not one but two episodes back-to-back, gingah!

Two thumbs up.

Here’s the premise, it’s a reality show that follows Theresa Caputo — a psychic medium — around town somewhere in Jersey. I think I’d enjoy myself in Jersey. (Edited: Until Long Island is captured by New Jersey it will continue to be a neighbor to New York City. I can’t take myself anywhere.)

Her full-time job is to send messages to the living from the dead. She’s sort of like a spiritual UPS guy. She says the spirits come to her and she feels compelled to tell the corresponding person what they’re saying.

For instance, she dropped her car off at the garage and she felt a message waiting to be shared. It was for the mechanic who was going to fix her car. His dad was speaking, through the medium, telling him that he knew of his grandchildren who were born after he died and that he’s proud of his son the auto mechanic.

She also surprised him by asking if someone’s birthday was coming. It was the mechanic’s birthday the next day! Yay!

As you may know, I’m one pessimistic monkey. If my brother ever tries to come through, he better offer up some info that no one — and I mean no one else — could know about. And by the time he’s able to convince me, the medium is probably going to hate me and walk away. But, if she can’t provide some serious proof I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that.

Now then, I find this show entertaining and naturally it’s kicked up some questions for me.

• If a spirit can communicate through her, why won’t Jesus pop in to share a message with someone?

• Does a spirit ever ask her to tell someone that it’s *still* pissed off about that time, near those restaurants, the other person ruined her favorite sweater?

• If so, are there many spiteful spirits roaming around in some local coffee shops?

• Can murder victims come through and tell the judge who killed them?

• Will the medium accept a spiteful message from a spirit? Will she go to the other person and tell him that this spirit is seriously pissed and is demanding an apology?

Because if I don’t outlive a few people, I’m hunting them down and sending a few messages through Ms. Theresa Caputo.

I found an interesting article the other day at msnbc.com while I was trying to find a bio for Keith Morrison. It’s an excerpt of a book called “For Better: The Science of a Good Marriage” by Tara Parker Pope. The premise is that researchers can predict roughly 80% of the time whether a couple will divorce based on how they tell the story of their meeting.

I love trying to understand human behavior. I think that’s why I’m so interested in serial killers and murder mysteries.

My older two kids have picked up on that and ask me, every so often, “Why do you read those kinds of books?” When I’m in a state of pique I tell them, “Because I enjoy the adrenaline rush of the nightmares.”

My 10-year-old has been hip to my sarcasm for a couple years now and will say, in times of frustration, “Why can’t you be like a normal mom?” Because homey is 5.68 miles left of normal, that’s why.

Anyway, as I read the article I was intrigued by the hypothesis: telling the story can accurately predict a divorce more than three-quarters of the time. Whoa, gingah.

Spouses who are in happy marriages often recount the early part of their relationship with laughter, smiles, and nostalgia—even when talking about difficult times like a job loss or financial struggles. Unhappy couples, however, tend to recast their past times together in a decidedly negative light.

For instance, imagine a couple telling the story of the first time a wife visited her future husband’s filthy apartment.

“My goodness, the place was a wreck! Socks everywhere, empty beer bottles. It was definitely a bachelor pad.”

Or she might remember it this way:

“It was disgusting. Even back then, he was a complete slob.”

It’s the same story about the same messy apartment, told two different ways. But it’s clear which wife is happier in her relationship.

Now that someone has pointed it out, it seems so obvious, doesn’t it?

So here’s my challenge to you — fill in that blank up there. In your comment write the sentence with your adjective. If you feel like expounding upon your answer go ahead.

If you want create some mystery just write, “How I met my embittered spouse” and leave the interpretation up to the reader.

Here’s my answer: “How I met my dashing, yet naive, spouse.”