Part One: Procurement

In early November, I was feeling stagnant. No noticeable changes in my grades, no improvements to my terrible sleep schedule—nothing. I needed some luck. I had a job interview the next week, I had a lot of work I needed to get done, and I could use some extra money. That is when the scheme revealed itself to me. It was foolproof: take as many alternative healing/medicine products as possible every day for a week, then become the luckiest person who ever lived. Over the course of the next two weeks, I narrowed my alternatives down to three methods of healing that would be sure to help me ace my interview, improve my finances, and get me more sleep.

Method Number One: Buddha Maitreya Soul Therapy

I learned about Buddha Maitreya Soul Therapy (otherwise known as Jesus the Christ Soul Therapy) through a group of juniors who had recently made a pilgrimage to the Omaha chapter of Buddha Maitreya Soul Therapy. They informed me of two things: 

1. The leaders of Jesus Christ Soul Therapy have views surrounding the LGBTQ+ community that I did not agree with.
2. They sold “head pyramids,” hollow rectangular prisms between the size of a large bowl and small bucket. They are supposed to be worn as a hat and is used for meditation, luck, and the healing of souls.

I needed a head pyramid, but not only did I not want to give them money, I couldn’t afford to even if their interests lined up with mine. The price for the cheapest head pyramid was about $100, with the most expensive being nearly $4000. 

Method Number Two: Crystal Magic

Next, I needed a crystal, so I searched “Healing Crystals Omaha” into Google Maps and went to the store closest to me. It’s called “The Conjure Shop,” which is located across the street from Nebraska Furniture Mart. I drove through a narrow one-lane road and walked into the shop. It smelled like cigarettes, there were almost no lights, and it had really short ceilings. This was the perfect place to buy some luck crystals. I asked the owner what crystals would be best for luck and she directed me to a quartz crystal attached to a drawstring, telling me it was specifically for financial luck. I bought it immediately and told the owners that since the shop we were in had such lucky energy, I would love to know what stocks I should invest in. Someone else from across the room told me to buy Dogecoin—a meme cryptocurrency favored by Elon Musk. Before leaving, I bought fourteen Dogecoins, totaling a whopping $1.32. However, my financial luck would not last long, as someone turned into the one-lane road leading to The Conjure Shop at a blistering speed while I was exiting, causing us nearly to crash. Although I didn’t know it, this was a sign of things to come.

Method Number Three: Essential Oils

Instead of going to a specialized shop or building my own oils, as was the case with the first two methods, I went to Target for my essential oils. All the oils they had for sale had fantastical names like “dream,” “inspire,” or “grapefruit.” Ultimately, my top two choices were either dream or eucalyptus. My new crystal told me to go with eucalyptus. 

Part Two: Cursed

I didn’t know it at the time, but my healing crystal would actively work against me for the next week. It started on a Friday, wherein I wore my head pyramid, crystal, and essential oil to school. Over the course of that day, I had more pictures taken of me than any other that year. Sometimes, people would ask for a picture. Other times, I’d catch them pointing their phones toward me during class. Maybe it was a conspicuous outfit, but it was supposed to bring me luck, and that was enough. However, my luck was bad. My Dogecoin was down five percent from when I’d bought it just a day earlier. When I mentioned that to my mom in conversation, she said that the crystal might be evil. I said that didn’t make sense for the crystal to work against me, then my dad loudly stubbed his toe in the other room. Hopefully this was unrelated.

I spent all of Saturday at home, wearing the head pyramid and waiting for my job interview at 11:30. When that time rolled around, the expected call from my prospective employer came and went. I called in to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, dressed in pajamas, covered in oil and wearing a crystal and, of course, the head pyramid. I was then told that the interview was in person, and I had missed it. I took off the head pyramid and rushed to get dressed in something appropriate for a job interview when they informed me that the interview would be rescheduled for Sunday. It was then when I decided that not only was the crystal unlucky, but the “negative luck ions” were being channeled through the head pyramid and into the outside world.

I ditched the pyramid and carried on with just the crystal and the oil for Monday through Wednesday.  I’d conducted the interview without my pyramid, and got the job in the process.  However, throughout that time I endured a constant stream of mildly bad luck. Red stop lights every time I drove, I overslept on Wednesday and was late to class, and my Dogecoin went down another seven percent. Then, the crystal broke.

Part Three: Freed

When filming a project based around King Lear, I handed Jacob Harding my crystal and I went off to grab my laptop. At that time, the crystal broke. It fell off its chain and I was no longer able to wear it. At first, I was mad at Jacob for breaking my luck charm, telling him that it was a priceless family heirloom I wanted to give to my grandchildren someday. But slowly, I realized that I was free. No more horrible luck, no more Dogecoin, no more oil. I brought the crystal home and decided not to wear it again. No less than two hours after the crystal broke, I got a message on my phone. My Dogecoin was up seven percent, almost back to the level it was at when I bought it. Clare Shinzel attempted to bring me a replacement chain on Friday, but it broke in her car, probably due to the terrible aura associated with this crystal. Now only one thing remains to be done and all I need is the crystal, a hammer, and a little bit of luck.