“What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!”
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar [I.ii.292]
Aries: “Yes, no, yes. No.” Perfectly acceptable answers to questions you’ve got coming up in the next couple of days. It works like this, yes, you can have it any way you want, but no, you can’t have it right away and yes, I understand that contradicts the first answer. No, it doesn’t mean it won’t happen, but…. As soon as I hear someone lead in with that word, “but (dot dot dot)” I figure there’s a long and rambling rebuttal of some kind. It’s sad story fraught with a number of excuses, asides, rambling, perhaps pointless entries, and then the conclusion gets right back to where we all started. Problem being, you’re going to feel like you’re just not getting ahead. The more hurried you get, the more headway you think you make, the less ground you actually traverse. Reminds me of a certain country rocker I saw one time. In the lead-in to one song, he was talking about how he went into the bank, and how he withdrew cash on a credit card, got back in his truck, then pulled around to the drive-thru window and deposited that cash in his checking account — according to the stage banter — to cover the credit card payment. I’m fixated on Mr. Mercury, and you should be, too. Just chill, or you’ll spend a lot of time going around in a circle. Hopefully, not at the bank — like that one musician.
Taurus: Electronic banking is a funny thing, to me. No, it’s not funny how stuff gets shuffled around, and I’m afraid I’m a little old-fashioned in that I don’t really trust “the internet” to take care of all my business. I’m not sure I want my account information sliding back and forth over the airwaves, or the seething electronic currents, because there’s always a problem or two. After running websites for a decade or more, I’ve discovered where most of the problems fall: it’s the end user. The problem with electronic banking, is that I am the end user. So where the failure occurs is usually a problem on my end. Browser compatibility, noise on the phone line, broken socket layer, one of those things. My problem, not theirs. While I have absolute faith electronic funds, on a small scale, I don’t have much faith on large scale. I’m not bothered by a transaction, say under $100. Like picking up some bauble on eBay. Or shooting me a tip, or a taking care of website subscriptions. But when it comes to moving large amounts of cash around, between institutions, I’m not sure I trust my own hardware not to make a mistake. Remember, most, if not all, of the errors start with the end user. Mercury mayhem unfolds, you’re the end user. I’m not predicting dire events, just suggesting a little caution.
Gemini: “Squawk.” One of my Gemini friends showed up, and that’s all she had to say. She really had a lot more to bitterly complain about, but all she could do was utter the word that sounded like that. I didn’t plan this, and it wasn’t my idea, but it’s a sure-fire way to get folks all upset about something. It’s amusing, to my twisted way of seeing life, to encounter a Gemini bereft of words. There’s a lot you want to say. There’s a lot of interesting material floating around in your Gemini brain. There’s a good chance that you have something you want to say. There’s also a chance that no matter how hard you try to get out the expression, “Happy Holidays,” it chokes someplace on the way from the voice box to mouth. Squawk. I understand what you’re going through. I understand what you’re talking about. But I’ll also warn you that Mr. Mercury, the infernal trickster, is up to his old games, and you’re having a tough time with this. Look: for just situation, I usually carry a palm-top device. I take notes, use them later. Only, with the tricky one being tricky, what I find is gibberish scrawled in the device. I wonder what you were thinking when you wrote that? Looks a lot like the phonetic spelling for “squawk.”
Cancer: “Hey! HEY! Kramer, put a shirt on!” Might seem odd, might not. I realize that the middle of December isn’t a time to be wandering around downtown with no shirt on, but the sun was out, the temperature was agreeable, and I was feeling a little faded. As opposed to feeling a little jaded, which is the way things are in Cancer. There’s a slightly raw, slightly jangled-nerves sense about the way life is going, in the Cancer section of the sky. When someone hollers at me, on the street, especially if it’s what I construe to be a funny, then I don’t let it bother me. I’m downtown a couple of times in a week, and my attire varies from “formal business” to my usual “advanced casual” (almost nekkid). While my approach to attire is perfectly suited for me, I also live in a place with a fairly temperate climate. Advanced casual, to the extent of not even wearing a shirt, might not work in your Cancer quadrant. But no shirt helped me feel better. It solved that faded feeling I was experiencing. Sort of like a Saturn hangover. Now, I don’t know what passes for advanced casual for your self. But as soon as time permits, I’m all for you doing your advanced casual thing. Be aware, though, that some person on the street will make fun of the way your dressed.
Leo: The problem is, no one is going to believe you. You’re going to spin some impossible tale about how space aliens abducted you, or how you were forced at gunpoint to perform unspeakable tasks, much to your Leo chagrin. Or worse, you’re going to wander in to see the boss, holding piece of paper in your hand, “You can’t be serious? You need it when?” Under normal circumstances, none of this would bother you, because, after all, you’re The Leo, and as such, goals, deadlines, and tasks like Hercules cleaning out the Augean stables? Normally? No big deal. But this isn’t a normal time. Something’s very clearly not clear. I wasn’t too worried about it, not me, but I did have one of my Leo friends call the other night. Seems he’d been out drinking — Tequila will do that — and my Leo buddy was trying to get grip on why he was in Florida, woke up on couch, wearing nothing but a Viking helmet. Leo, I’m not saying that you’re not right, I’m just saying, you’re ability to explain why something is the way it is? That might not work as well as you want. We’re still trying to figure it all out.
Virgo: When Mercury is backwards in a compatible (mutable) sign, like he is at this point, certain themes start to emerge. Dirty laundry can surface. Or, in my case, I was standing in the laundry room wondering where the socks all go. I’ve got a good system howsoever as I tend to wear either cowboy boots or sandals. Sandals require no socks, and boots, it doesn’t matter whether the socks match or not. I do have a cute pair of Xmas socks, and I try to wear those when I’m getting on a plane going home for Xmas so when I take the boots off for security, I have on cute socks. You know, cheap thrills. But most of the time, i.e., the rest of the year, it doesn’t matter that my socks don’t match, so I don’t spend a lot of time wondering where that one, last sock went. Doing laundry, dirty laundry, I was thinking about this. I started with six socks, that’s three pair, and when I was done, there were five. 2.5 pair. I’m not losing any sleep over a single missing sock. A couple of days later, I grabbed a flannel shirt that was hanging up from that laundry room visit, put my arm in the sleeve, and out popped that one, lone sock. So you make a discovery in the next few days. Might not be in laundry room, and it might not be the pressing problem of socks, but where you least expect it, out pops an answer. The problem is, the only part of this that is predictable is that it’s not predictable when, or where, or what answer to life’s mysteries will show up.
Libra: I got stuck in an argument, it was meant to be a friendly discussion, but somehow, I got in between two baristas. Not a good place to be. A barista is someone trained to operate an espresso machine. I usually ask a birthday so I’m familiar with the brewing person’s sign. Always looking for which sign does it best. And my tastes vary with the seasons. In the middle of the summer, a little shot of straight up espresso is about perfect. In December, in Central Texas, we’ll have a few warm, summer-like days. Good chance of freezing rain, too. Warm days? Espresso. Cold nights? Something with a dollop of frothed milk. Now, the argument I got in between, was about the name of certain concoction. It’s called a “macchiato,” and as I understand it, the name is derived from Italian, and it means, “marked.” I like a double, myself, two shots of good espresso and dollop of the foam from the steamed milk. Here’s where I got confused, I was lead to believe that the milk foam goes in the cup first, then the espresso is poured on top, “marking” it. “No man, what you do is ‘mark’ the espresso with a dab of milk foam. Get it straight.” My bad. Except, between these two baristas, there was an ensuing discussion about which or what comes first, milk or coffee. Due to the orientation of several planets, most notably Mercury, you’re probably going to get stuck in a similar situation. You know what’s worse? I still don’t know the right answer.
Scorpio: “Oh man, you got to love Miami! There were naked titties all over the place!” I wouldn’t be surprised at that comment, if it came from a small-minded male, or one of my drinking friends. Or a certain fisherman. But no, it popped out of the mouth of a client, on the phone, a rather sweet Scorpio, if you ask me, but no one did. Just caught me by surprise, to hear that utterance. There was genuine glee, or something that sounded like genuine glee, in her voice. It was like she liked seeing all that naked flesh in the middle of the winter. So maybe it’s not really wintertime in Florida. I wouldn’t know. I’m not much for going to the beach and staring at naked ta-ta’s. Just doesn’t do a whole lot for me. I’m less of the “looking” type and lot more of the “touching” type. Guess I’m funny that way. I’ve been good for the last couple of weeks, and I’ve stayed away from making prurient comments about the two lovebirds, Mars & Venus, sailing through Scorpio. But sooner or later, some Scorpio pops up with a comment like that, and there’s not much I can do. “What? You speechless? Ha!” All I’m saying is that your Scorpio self will probably render one of us speechless in the next few days. You might not even expose yourself, either. It could be a comment of some kind. Like what happened to me.
Sagittarius: What, the four food groups? I was trying to explain, in Texas, we do have four food groups, like any place else, I suppose, there’s “Brisket, ribs, chicken & sausage.” To an uninitiated amateur, that might look like I was just reading the menu at a BBQ place. Well, you know what? I was. Four food groups. Works for me. You’re entitled to your own opinion. But I’m at loss for what else would fit those slots. It has to do with family, holidays and food. Did I mention food? Sure. It’s supposed to be a happy birthday time for us Sagittarius types, but these days, the holidays and the news are sort of over-shadowing our good times. My suggestion? Pick one or more from the four food groups and enjoy. It’s that simple. Other folks are concentrated on other things in life, so we’re sort of on our own, here. Personally, I like the three meat sampler, with a little brisket, some ribs and a little link of sausage. Happy birthday!
Capricorn: Not so long ago, I was working at an event, my long locks dancing down my back, as they say, “cascading,” and I had an inspiration. I’d had a long run of luck, or strange coincidences, where just about every woman who sought me for a reading was a Capricorn with a crush on a musician. During one reading, I hit upon an idea. I was going to buy a second-hand guitar, pawnshops around here have plenty, and I was going to set that guitar up behind the table with me. I’ve used various props in the past. A guitar just seemed right. I can’t play a guitar, I don’t how to hold one, I’m not even sure I should be allowed to touch one, but the guitar player image seems rather appealing. Of course, me with a guitar is fraud. Although, according to some, I share many of the characteristics of the mythical guitar player. What’s the message? It’s simple, like all those readings, your Capricorn self is attracted to a mythical figure. Not a real one, but someone who represents themselves as something that they might — or might not — be. All I’m saying, it’s okay to have a silly crush, holidays and all, but I’m not sure that it’s the real thing.
Aquarius: I was gentle. I was nice. I was kind. Didn’t work. You’re gentle. You’re nice. You’re kind. Doesn’t seem to work. And, to beat all, it’s the holiday season. You’d figure that everyone should be nice, right? I’m with you on this, but I’ve had more than my fair share of surly clerks, harried retail employees, and customer service representatives who seem to have no lick of sense on how to handle a surly customer like myself. Or yourself. Tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to wait until this flipping holiday season is over, then I’m going to go back, credit card receipt in hand, and get the problems sorted out. But I’m also waiting until after January 1 in order to get all this mess sorted out. Means me problems carry over into the new year. Makes an impact on the financial condition around here. Makes an impact on your financial condition, too. But the problem is, until, at the very soonest, the solstice, you’re pretty much stuck with surly “help desk” personalities. If you’re not like me, and you can’t wait until after January First, then do us both a favor, plus those harried helping folks, and wait until after Xmas.
Pisces: Mercury is backwards. Venus and Mars are late in Scorpio. Sun’s in Sagittarius. What this mean? Three tries. That’s it. You get three tries to fix some situation, or it’s three tries to fix someone up, or it’s three tries to get fixed up. If you run into an obstacle three times, and the obstacle obstinately doesn’t want to move, then that’s it. No more tries. The game is hardly over, but there’s a suggestion that three tries is all the effort you should waste. It might not be wasted effort, either. It could work. Most of the Pisces I’m familiar with, most them are rather immune to the Mercury Problems that crop when the little one is errant. But it might not be like that. Count. It’s like — hated sports metaphor — three strikes, and you’re out. Simple. Count the number of negative responses to your endearing entreaty. When you keep running into problems, when some person sees fit to erect a barricade to your progress? You can bang into that problem three times. If that doesn’t fix it? Now ain’t the time to be dealing with that difficulty.
