"Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot."
Shakespeare’s AS YOU LIKE IT [II.vii.185]
Special Austin event, info is here.
Aquarius: There’s a note to myself, pursuant to an idea I wanted to work on, a concept for the scopes. I was going to do these as a screenplay. Or in a screenplay’s style. I’ve always wanted to experiment with form and I thought a screenplay for each of the scopes would be an interesting concept. Unfortunately, when I started messing with the idea, what I discovered was the concept, while a solid idea, won’t work.
First off, the form of a screenplay is too long to fit in here. Then, there’s just bits and pieces of conversation, just the words, plus a line about the setting, and no one would get that. Except, of course, the Aquarius. Ya’ll would understand just fine. The rest of the signs? Probably not a clue. Besides, screenplays are hard to read unless one has some experience with the form. Again, not a problem in the Aquarius camp, but the concept would fail with other signs.
Venus moves on into Pisces. It’s Aquarius birthday time. Mars is poking along in Capricorn. It’s all about what you see in your mind’s eye, whereas all the other (non-Aquarius) folks you encounter? It’s what’s printed right in front of them. Realize that you’re bit dreamy and concepts are good, but other folks need hard copy in front of them.
Pisces: I started working on this, and my feet were flat on the floor, back erect, fingers in the proper positions on the keyboard, and it’s wintertime in Texas. Not so much cold in the daytime, but some of the last few night had been rather chilly. Before I got halfway through, I was huddled up on the chair, back bent like a Roman archway, typing with one finger from each hand while pulling the flannel shirt down to cover my wrists.
I could, if I really deemed it necessary, get up and turn the heat on. Or set it higher. Instead, I chose to huddle up next to the keyboard as if it was the last source of warmth in the world, and I worked like an ancient monk, all I was missing was candlelight and feather quill, bobbing over my head. While I started with good form, after a few minutes in the cold, I kept reacting to the ambient temperature, and kept huddling closer and closer, more and more stooped. I had my feet tucked up under me, and at one point, I was mere inches from the computers screen. This can’t be good for my posture. And a similar reaction from Pisces, it can’t be good for you, either.
As Venus comes daintily and merrily traipsing into your sign, consider unfurling yourself from the keyboard. It’s not that cold out, and if it is that cold out? Adjust the thermostat. Nothing else is ready to make merry just yet, but with the advent of Venus unto Pisces, it’s time to get back to form. Good form. Good, Pisces form. Back erect, hands on the keys, straighten up some. Pisces is looking for a little lift, and it would help if you would just sit up straight. (Unlike me.)
Aries: I watched as an Aries took a call during a meal at a restaurant. The phone had been set to vibrate, so it wasn’t one of those obnoxious portable phone ring tones, but what amused me was the etiquette used. When she answered the phone, she ducked a little lower, like she was trying to hold the phone under the table, keep the conversation quiet and to herself.
Only, in a crowded restaurant, that’s virtually impossible. She then covered the mouthpiece with a cupped hand, too, trying to keep the conversation as a strictly two-way communication. Didn’t really succeed, not judging from the portion of the conversation that I heard. Didn’t bother me a bit, either, I was most amused by the hunched over, hands cupped around the mouth gestures, the sotto-voce attempts at being discrete. None of which worked. I found the antics quaint. If I wanted a confidential conversation, though I would’ve stepped outside. Matter of fact, if I wanted a confidential conversation, I wouldn’t use a cell phone, either. But that’s just me.
I can save you pain, embarrassment and ridicule, if you’ll just listen. A quick, "Can I call you later" message works as well as anything. And if it really is important? Do step outside, at the very least. Might not be a phone, but some point of etiquette needs to be called to your Aries attention. Mars is the culprit. How you deal with him?
Taurus: I wandered into the convenience store, and I was looking at the grill. The rotating heater thingy that usually has hot dogs, hot links and hot sausages. Not exactly the most sanitary of food-service items, but times being what they are for me, a viable source of nourishment, when I can get it. It was late in the afternoon, just before sundown, and the lone clerk was jovial, if not exactly helpful. I asked where all the hot dogs were. "Threw ’em out, been there since this morning." In a pleasant exchange of words, I found out that the hot dogs had that look, and even the homeless guys won’t eat them.
According to the clerk, he tried to give them away. If I’d been there? I’d have eaten one or two, especially if it was free. While I’m not a "domicile challenged" individual (yet), I was partially annoyed that the food I pay for was gone. And, to learn that some of the less well-off denizens of the mean streets wouldn’t take this as a reliable food source. Just goes to show where my taste can be found.
Most fine Taurus folks wouldn’t deign to pick up a questionable tube of mystery substances from a corner store, but therein is the conundrum. On certain occasions, just such a meal between meals is a heartening experience. Some of the time, those little delicacies are just that, a fine gourmand repast. Don’t overlook what the other folks disdain. Be surprised. Enjoy the little treats, even if some days, they all get thrown out.
Gemini: Part of life in an urban environment is the "look up" sign. I’ve found these signs downtown, almost anywhere there are tall building. Tall buildings with glass windows. Tall buildings with glass windows that occasionally, from environmental influences, need washing. A rope, some cone markers, and the steady drip of water should be adequate warning, but for the less alert, sometimes a little signage is nice. Or appropriate. Or maybe required by law, I’m not sure.
More than once, though, I’ve watched as unwitting pedestrians, usually business men, or men dressed in suits and white shirts, and a tie, usually those are the guys who’ll ignore the warning signs and step right it in the path of the window washer’s spray. Or dribble. I wonder, if sometimes, the extra water isn’t a little malicious, but I’ve never spent my time on the side of a building, trying to wash windows. I don’t understand the true nature of the business, but to me, it always did look like fun. Up, overhead, high atop a swinging seat, with a bucket of soapy water, sloshing water on unsuspecting pedestrians who are too busy to avoid getting sprayed. Gemini is usually an observant sign, well-aware of the potential problems in an urban environment. Don’t be like those other guys, the other signs, and get splashed from falling water.
Cancer: The neurosis has finally had a chance to set in. I’ve been over-exposed to certain marketing trends, and according to the unsolicited email I’m getting, I’m not big enough in a certain area, I don’t last long enough in a certain area, and since I’m now depressed, I need to order certain substances to alleviate the depression, and while we’re at it, I’m also overweight, and the same material to help me lose weight is also available.
My poor psyche, always being torn apart by the bulk e-mail I sift through.
If I actually believed all that material, I could be rich in days, and then I’d have enough money to buy all the other products that are being shoved in my direction, since, according to the unsolicited bulk mail, I’m obviously not enough in any of the departments, except the area of mental mixed up stuff. But I don’t believe all the marketing, and I certainly don’t believe everything I read, especially if it comes from a dubious address. The question, and the answer, is right there.
Is the Cancer psyche feeling the onerous burden of marketing, and are you beginning to buy into the hype? And if you do buy into the hype, do you really believe you’ll be bigger, stronger, leaner, richer — overnight? Just a couple of influences that are worth noting, and it’s like believing everything that gets shot down the old virtual vacuum tube, you don’t have to act on it all. In some case, like I don’t want bigger breasts, you know, I don’t have to act now.
Leo: I got a collection notice the other day. It was from a collection agency. I was going to toss the notice, but I discovered that I had some pent up angst, anguish and anger, and what better place to dump my vile bile than on some unsuspecting collections agent? See, the bill itself? It was a for cell phone plan for a friend, I wasn’t even the original person on the bill, just a signature. And, the bill had been paid, and the service terminated. Then again, through the windy tunnels under the big cities, the bill fell though a crack, and here it was, almost 7 years later, the debt had been sold off to some organization who then sold to another one, until the lone little bill collector, I’m imagining a guy in an office in New Jersey, who offered me a settlement, which, as far as I could tell was just about covering the costs of having all of this material on file.
The guy asked for my work phone number, I declined. He asked for more information, I declined. He was unable to offer corroborating evidence, and unwilling to cooperate, all he knew was he had a bill that was almost a decade old, and his letter had landed a small fish. The offer was working out to about thirty cents on the dollar, but to me, no offer was worth it. The problem was resolved, some time ago. Their mistake, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to cover some other person’s bureaucratic bumble. As I saddled up to hit the phone tree, to get to that live agent, I speculated that I needed a good place to vent some extra ire. I had a safe outlet, and that’s the whole point. Someone is out to remind you about something, could be a bill from a dead cell phone years ago. Even if it’s not right, you get to fight the good fight, as befits a Leo.
Virgo: Hike and bike trail in January, still crowded with the New Years’ resolution crowd, and me, like I’m there year-round, only, I wasn’t doing what I usually do. I was walking and talking on phone. Walking on the ground, talking into the phone. I wasn’t walking on the phone. So anyway, what I missed was the hour or two of solitude that I’m used to. I had two client calls to return, and I was trying to squeeze them into a schedule that’s become suddenly very busy. Like Virgo? I hope so. What struck me, though, was not what was there, but what wasn’t there. With at least one of the clients, I can recite the natal astrology chart looks like because I’ve been paid enough to consider it often enough to remember it.
I looked up at the sky, walking along, then down at my feet, and I could see that chart, some of its details, anyway, in my head. I remember odd stuff, too. But as I recited the details, and impressed the client, I lost touch with something — my immediate surroundings. In half an hour, I can cover a good portion of the trail, and I never got a chance to peek and see if the fish were hanging out in the creek, or if those dainty little flowers were blooming, or what was happening.
Dogs fetching sticks. Anything. Missed it all, immersed in work-related material. Which means I wasn’t too refreshed from my afternoon jaunt, as in, I covered the ground, got the exercise, but I didn’t get in touch with what I was trying to get in touch with; therefore, it wasn’t entirely pleasant. The good news is I’ve got two more happy clients. But at what expense? The details in life are important, and sometimes, you don’t miss something until it’s not there.
Libra: A little relief is needed for my Libra friends. This needs to have two tag lines attached to it, "long-lasting," and "fast acting." Both attributes are critical to make you guys a little happier. The fast acting stuff is what you need to deal with Mars situations, or, better yet, scenarios wherein Mars is the activator. Long lasting? That a reference to another point I needed to bring up, it’s about thinking one situation all the way though. What’s the outcome? What’s the outcome of the outcome? What’s the reaction to the Libra action going to be?
When you’re busy looking at the fast acting problem and solution, there’s a longer range point that needs a healthy dose of consideration, that’s the long last effects. Between the location of a number of Aquarius planets, the present implications of Mars, the way Venus is idling on into Pisces, it all adds up to some kind of cure that you want. It needs to be fast-acting, but the problem with a hurried response to the planets’ beck and call? There also needs to be a little forethought, hence the long-lasting phrase tagged onto the Libra note.
Scorpio: An e-mail client wrote to me to complain about the actions of his Scorpio daughter. I’ll suppose that he was seeking advice on how to more effectively get his point across to a younger Scorpio. A younger, female Scorpio. How about just female and Scorpio? I don’t know a lot, but I do know (and love) Scorpio — especially of the female persuasion. However, I’ve also discovered that I’m not man enough to ever effectively argue with a Scorpio, unless I want to feel like an almost dead object of prey that a Scorpio is batting around for amusement.
Not being that much of masochist, I’ve learned not to argue with Scorpio elements in a chart. It just doesn’t pay off. Doesn’t work. Can’t win. Shouldn’t waste my time trying. So I don’t. Which doesn’t mean that the guy sending me the e-mail doesn’t deserve some consolation, perhaps pity, but let’s face a few facts, as a Scorpio? That daughter will win. Every time. That doesn’t mean, though, that there’s not a parent-paternal figure of some kind trying to offer some kindly advice and perhaps, that person is trying to push the Scorpio in certain direction. Not a good idea, just from what I know, to push a Scorpio anywhere. However, I’ll try just one time, and my sincere wish for Scorpio denizens is that they listen to what’s being said. Don’t pay attention to how it’s said, that’ll just piss you off. But listen to the advice, patiently and calmly. Then, since you’re going to ignore it anyway, go ahead and ignore the advice. But at least pretend to listen, that way, you can say you did hear what we said.
Sagittarius: At 120 minutes, a movie is 2 hours long. Plus trailers and fillers? Add another 20 minutes, at least. I was at a theater, in the mall, or one of the cavernous Multiplexes that dot the landscape, almost like a blight, but then, if the movie is good, all is forgiven. Don’t ask, I’m not even sure which one it was, just movie place. Credits roll, and there’s a hushed exodus towards the restrooms. In the Men’s room, there was a line. Six urinals, six stalls, all full. Finally, as the line shuffled forward, I stepped into the first available spot, a stall. Toilet was one of those self-flushing things, and it was quietly dribbling water.
I’m sure every Sagittarius is familiar with what the scene might entail, a stopped-up toilet. Not over-flowing, but still a mess. The person before me, and the person before that, and presumably, as there was a long a line, a number of people had already used the toilet for one of its intended purposes. Which is what I did.
Face-to-face with adversity, the line behind me, and the fact that the water wasn’t dripping, just not draining as fast as it should. Now, the tale doesn’t end here, either. The poignant part when I joined my evening’s companion? I pointed out that I finally understood what it meant when a female will insist that the bathroom is too yucky to use. Point taken. Save yourself, my fine Sagittarius friend. Adversity is on our horizon, but we can deal with it. Although, consider going the extra miles to make everyone happy.
Capricorn: There’s a sound that was incorporated into a song, most near 20 years ago or more. Sound of a chainsaw starting. Imagine that noise. Not any engine, a chainsaw. There’s the additional cacophony of the steel chain and its teeth, rattling along the guide, and the raw, unfiltered noise of the two-stroke motor. It’s not like the sound of leaf blower, or a lawnmower, has to be a chainsaw, metal on metal, fragments of sound that adds additional cadence. Once that sound is firmly fixed in the Capricorn mind, the rest of what’s happening is easy to deal with.
"Vroom-vroom! Bring it on!" Yeah, that’s my Capricorn buddy, pretending that he has a chainsaw in his hand, and he’s going to tackle any number of problems that require a broad stroke. Like the stroke of that metaphorical chainsaw. I can hear him dancing around in his cube, "Vroom, vroom, yeah buddy, I’m ba-ad!" First of all, the idea was the sound of a chainsaw, and the image is of an "air" chainsaw. As such, no one gets hurts, and most important, no Capricorns get cut.
Mars. He’s like a hot butter through a knife. Mars, he’s like the sound of that chainsaw on the song. Mars, he’s like my buddy, making noises and swinging a make-believe chainsaw around. Mars, he’s like, and you get to insert your own description here. But I’d be careful with the real chainsaws, or anything else that cuts like a knife.
