For the record, to my knowledge I have never met or given a psychic reading to Cheryl Cole. I have never spoke to or commented to any media outlet stating that Cheryl Cole is a PsychicGirl client, nor do I know “the source” of the story in Grazia or The Sun.

What I do know is that sometimes celebrities will get a readings by phone and change their name, so I don’t even know if I have read them or not.

I’ve been a professional psychic for twenty years. I’ve never gone to the press with private and personal information on any of my clients before, nor have I now. This information was not leaked to the press by myself or anyone that is connected to me.

As with any of my clients, I wish Cheryl Cole happiness, healing and the outcome she desires.

Sincerely,

Jusstine Kenzer
PsychicGirl.com

PsychicGirl takes part in Unveiled

Patty from Million Dollar Match Maker

400 Macaroons from The Sunset Marquis Hotel

WEST HOLLYWOOD, CA – FEBRUARY 28: Designer Henry Duarte (L) and Jusstine Kenzer attend the Members Only Trunk Show at Tracey Ross on February 28, 2008 in West Hollywood, California.
Photo: Donato Sardella/WireImage

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Happy New Year!

I will be visiting San Francisco and taking in person reading appointments January 22nd to the 25th. Email me jusstine @ psychicgirl dot come to set up an in person reading appointment.

Wishing you blessing and healing galore!

Even though I’ve switched from PC to Mac, happily, I just can’t seem switch to the iPhone due to the keyboard. I live on my phone (who doesn’t) due to accessibility to clients. I’ve spent some serious time trying to get use to the touch screen keys on the iPhone and it just ain’t going to happen.

For one who is constantly helping others make decisions effortlessly, when it comes to deciding for myself, I so wish I could find another me! Last New Years, a make up artist friend invited me to go to Portland, Oregon. The invitation was so last minute I had difficulty deciding if I wanted to go. Up to the last moment, my poor friend had no idea if I was joining her or not. Up to the last minute I had no idea if I was joining her or not. This wasn’t about some psychic sense that the plane was going to crash. I can’t look at anything like that for myself. I just couldn’t decide. I packed my bags not knowing. I met her at her apartment not having a clue. In what seemed like a scene out of a sitcom, I followed her in my car all the way to the airport, still trying to figure it out. I surprised the both of us making it to the gate just in time to board the plane.

Once in Portland, we stayed with my friends ex who lives in an area that seemed like it’s own lonesome state. (Perhaps this is why I had such an issue deciding to go)? Cabin fever lead me to connect with a little spiritual group I’m part of that has a branch there. As a New Years project we made vision boards. You know, where you rip out magazine pictures of what you want, glue them on to a big piece of cardboard, relieving a poster of your deepest dreams that you desire to come true. The idea is that if you look at it everyday, it plants pictures in your subconscious mind that you will eventually draw into your life. You’d think someone in my profession wouldn’t have an issue believing in or having faith, but the secret is out, I do! (I’m like a psychic with an attitude). I had more fun making the board than I actually believed in it working. I’m all or nothing, so my board focused on just one thing. At the time I had a television project that was being shopped. I fairytale fantasized about it going to Oprah’s new network. So, that was the jist of my masterpiece. I brought it home. Per advice from a Feng Sui expert I put it on the wall by the door of my kitchen. It’s been there all year, and it has yet to come true.

Contrary to what one may believe, there are plenty of moments of my life are not filled with new agey spiritual stuff. These days I’m working on something new that has nothing to do with the psychic world. A friend suggested I make a vision board for this project. I was reluctant, but gave in because she is always going on about how they have worked for her. Looking at her life, they have. I did it out of vision board envy.

As I was glueing the new board together, I found myself thinking of how the old board didn’t work. Then my thoughts drifted to a bottle of water. You see, a few years back, the same make up artist friend brought me back a bottle of water from the Green Room of The Oprah Winfrey Show. For some time now this Holy water bottle has hid in a special secret place in my home. At that very moment I somehow decided it was time for it to go. I stopped vision boarding, retrieve the bottle from its shrine and to the trash it was headed. (I have a bad habit of throwing out things that I later regret). However, this time something stopped me, I just wasn’t ready to let it go.

Then two days later I was going about my life when I got an email requesting a reading, something that happens everyday, but this request had a wow factor. I like to joke that my phone is kind of like a slot machine. Most of the time I get an email showing that someone has purchased a reading before I even get their request to have one. I looked at my Blackberry and felt like I’d hit the jackpot because the person request the reading worked for the Oprah Winfrey Show!

I know this in no way means I am going to end up on Oprah. But a girl can dream. A girl can rethink her belief that vision boards possibly do work! After the reading, I received an invitation to come to Chicago, (yes)! Taking this trip will be no difficult decision to make. Maybe I will end up reading some other people who work for the big O. Perhaps I will end up in the same place where that bottle of water I’ve been worshiping first came from. You just never Oprah know where life will Oprah take you and what will Oprah happen, even if you are psychic.

On this day, in this moment, I graciously give thanks. Thanks that when I open my mouth my teeth are all still there. Thanks that when I open my eyes my eyeballs have not been poked out by rocks. And thanks for the big reminder that even though I’m psychic, I’m still human.

In honor of Thanksgiving I’m forcing myself here to search the deepest darkest crevices of my entire being to find whatever minuscule scrap of gratitude I can conger up. I’m bitter, I’m bruised, I‘m puffy as hell, but at least I’m still alive.

Forecasting my own future, it looks like I can expect a lot of waiting around for time to pass and healing to happen. I’ve decide to record this painful account to the keys of my laptop. I figure that if this distressing chronicle ends up imbedded in print, perhaps it can act as an unconscious reminder to myself; Note to self, please never ever create this situation again.

Unfortunately this isn’t the first time, but the second, I have partaken in a regrettable incident involving a mountain, a downward descend and a fall break with my FACE. One need not be psychic to get this message, “Psychic Girl stay off the mountain!”

By recommendation my legs are plopped up over a stack of pillows in hopes of creating a blood rush to my head that is supposed to cause the swelling to lesson. Remote control in hand, I scan some 300 plus cable channels to find that there is absolutely nothing on. This gives me ample time to torture myself by reminiscing over and over again. How did I miss the clues warning me of what was to come and how did I get my injured ass in this dreadful predicament? God, if only I was suffering from an ass injuring. At least I could venture out from the cabin fever causing walls of my house. On second thought, getting up and going anywhere is but a daydream. As soon as the double dose of Advil I just swallowed wears off, I‘m going to be in a lot more pain. Add to that the shame and embarrassment of looking like I have a wife beater boyfriend at home, for now I‘m staying put.

I have however accomplished a lovely limp down the hallway where I made my way from bedroom to kitchen back to bedroom again. Quite a feat spent to retrieve my latest find in fashion accessory that I have just pulled out of the freezer and am now sporting on my face. This ice pack makes me look so sexy in a Hannibal Lecter kind of way. I think it’s mostly used to recover from plastic surgery (that one has planned for) or if one has taken twelve rounds with Lennox Lewis. All I know is whoever invented this thingamajig is a damn genius. Not only does it deaden my smarting, but while I’m wearing it I get to temporarily forget that positioned underneath it is my freshly acquired and always unstylish road jerky (mountain jerky in this case.)

Given all the wardrobe choices one has to choose from, wearing scabs has never been a fashion statement I was looking to make. You know there never really is a good time for one to acquire bodily harm. Especially to one’s mug where it is impossible to hide the evidence of eating it. Even with a talented make up artist and all the cover up in the world, it only ends up looking like you are trying to cover something very ugly up.

Come to think of it, this makes for a really good reality show. Let’s take a group of people, confine them to a compound, beat the shit out of them and the one who heals the quickest wins free health care for life! What do you think? Is it too similar to that Big Brother show where they emotionally beat the crap out of each other? I know I’m starting to sound loopy, I’m allowed, I have a head injury.

It really tests my patience when people give that lame excuse that everything happens for a reason. Yes, it’s true everything does. But before you drop the reason why into the great abyss, please let me share. From what I have come to see (psychically) the answer to the reason why, is that someone (me in both cases here) was not inattention. That left the door wide open for some funky energy to come in and allow some bad accident to manifest. This is how bad things happen to good people. This is how I fell down a mountain and broke the fall with my face, twice! And this is why I’m giving thanks for this opportunity to become more aware, but I’m still never stepping foot near nature again.

ARIES: At Thanksgiving dinner you arrive fashionably late to the party. You give thanks with confidence and enthusiasm. You’re prone to injure your face and head.

TAURUS: At Thanksgiving dinner you only eat gourmet food. You give thanks warmhearted and lovingly. You’re prone to injure your throat and have a thyroid problem.

GEMINI: At Thanksgiving dinner you take both turkey wings for yourself: You give thanks with wit and eloquence. You’re prone to injure your arms, hands and shoulders.

CANCER: At Thanksgiving dinner you host and prepare the feast. You give thanks shrewdly and cautiously. You’re prone to injure your chest and stomach.

LEO: At Thanksgiving dinner you want to be at the head of the table. You give thanks generously and warmheartedly You’re prone to injure your heart and spine.

VIRGO: At Thanksgiving dinner you watch what you eat. You give thanks modestly and shyly. You’re prone to injure your liver and have digestive or intestinal problems.

LIBRA: At Thanksgiving dinner you dole out equal portions. You give thanks diplomatically and charmingly. You’re prone to injure your kidneys and immune system.

SCORPIO: At Thanksgiving you are the sexiest at the table. You give thanks with determination and forcefulness. You’re prone to injure your sinuses and reproductive region.

SAGITTARIUS: At Thanksgiving you skip dinner and go camping. You give thanks straightforwardly and philosophically. You’re prone to injure your hips and thighs.

CAPRICORN: At Thanksgiving dinner you sit at the head of the table. You give thanks practically and reservedly. You’re prone to injure your skin, knees and joints.

AQUARIUS: At Thanksgiving dinner you eat tofu turkey. You give thanks with originally and honestly. You’re prone to injure your legs, knees and ankles.

PISCES: At Thanksgiving dinner you lead grace. You give thanks with compassion and kindness. You’re prone to hurt your ankles, feet and immune system.

Being a psychic is no bed of roses. I seriously would not wish it upon my worst enemy. But then again, I have no enemies because if I am all seeing, and all knowing, I obviously am able to tell if someone is my friend or foe, before I even meet them, right? Ha, if you only knew what it was really like to see life through my eyes. It just might open yours.

When it came to choosing a profession, it’s not like I sat around debating between the possibilities of becoming an actress or a clothing designer and then ditched it all for this brilliant plan to make my life really easy by going after becoming a professional psychic. I never asked to become this super sensitive freak of nature that with one small mention of her profession scares off any attractive available member of the opposite sex. Or whose casual conversations get completely misconstrued by the people she is trying to impress. Or just by working her trade has her health and well-being invaded by things that are completely invisible to the human eye. For the record, I didn’t pick being psychic, it picked me.

Even though this psychic thing is becoming more accepted, It seems I can’t escape the past life memories of being burned at the stake. When some random guy asks me what I do for a living, I’d love to just tell him I work in Public Relations. But I suck at lying. So I tell the truth which of course provokes a reaction. I can’t pick the winning lottery numbers for myself, but I can predict when someone is about to turn stand-up comedian and tell some lame joke about how I should have already known I was going to meet him (insert eyes rolling here).

I know, I sound a little less than thrilled to be here. You would too if you walked a mile in my shoes. (Do you even know how hard it is to find cute shoes in size eleven?) Like Paris Hilton says, “I have worked my ass off to get where I am.” I’ve built my career by whoring myself out in the streets of New York to every magazine editor that would have me. Then moved on to national television forecasting really important things like who’s going to win an Emmy or what numbers will come up on a roulette wheel in Vegas. I sell spirituality to the masses, yet I ponder if the big guy upstairs is kosher with my tactics.

It’s no wonder I’ve developed an addiction to perezhilton where I fantasize about having a more Gossip Girl-like-life. Living in Hollywood, I’ve had my share of party girl nights, or at least I’ve tried too. But the last time I checked..make that every time I check…being psychic on this planet does not equal the type of cool or hotness one must possess to effortlessly make it past doormen and velvet ropes.

All of this can take a lot of out of a girl who’s just going along doing the only thing she knows how to do. For even though I didn’t apply for the position, I somehow landed a gig preparing for the ultimate party. The one that comes after ALL of this. The one where Hollywood fame, fortune and power doesn’t grant you any VIP pull for getting on the guest list.

Celebrity Psychic Justine Kenzer really does love her job, reads people from all walks of life and from all over the world through her website psychicgirl.com

Unfortunately people will believe anything they read in black and white. Once something is in print it is almost impossible to take it away.

I’m grateful the magazine is taking responsibility and doing a retraction in the next issue (December) as well as directly letting Ms. Hilton know that they have made this mistake.