"What is a man
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed?"
Shakespeare's Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (IV.iv.38-40)
Leo: There's a local Tex-Mex place, a restaurant of international renown, and they charge, like, a buck for chips and hot sauce. Chips and hot sauce should be a right, not a privilege. There was some backlash, but eventually, the management prevailed, and the fee stuck. Since I'm of the cheap set, I vote the only way I know how to vote, I keep me and my limited cash resources out of the place. Judging from the crowds on Friday evening, though, seems like a lot of folks are not agreeing with me. Doesn't matter, legend lives on.
I run into former employees, and what's worse, the only recognition I have is that I knew them when they worked at that one place. But this isn't about Tex-Mex, or running into somebody you know who worked at a Tex-Mex place, it's about how to make a stand. There's a large problem with the planets, Venus backwards, lines up with the Sun and Saturn, and Mercury? He's heading into Virgo. Will get there before the next scope rolls over.
This means it's time to figure out how you're going to make your stand. I'm all for suggesting you follow my intentions, heaven forbid I'd suggest you follow anyone, but the concept is sound. My quiet boycott hasn't changed the charge for chips. But there's a self-righteous sense that I know that I'm following the correct action. It's not a big deal, it's a little deal. But enough people boycott, then it does garner attention. Consider your causes, consider your epic struggles, and consider the most poignant way to make a statement. Could be a subtle one, too, like me, voting with cash. Voting to take it elsewhere.
Virgo: I looked at Mercury, just about to enter Virgo, I looked at the little arrangement of the Sun, Saturn and Venus (apparently in retrograde motion), and I wondered about the Virgo chart. I gave it some thought, and then, I thought about something I need to do, like a load of laundry, so I've got a clean shirt this weekend. Then I thought more about Virgo. I'm reminded of one particular Virgo, as she took an order from a customer, then she danced her way back to the wait station to punch the order into the computer.
It was the little dance. Sort of a private affair, too, not one that everyone will notice. I did, but I know she's a Virgo, and her apparent enthusiasm was overflowing. Regrettably, after a long shift, I'm not so sure she'll be so happy and joyous. It's a private thing, too, this little thin tendril of joy that's making its way along in Virgo. Not such a big item, and it might be that the one Virgo, she might just have been happy to see me. I kind of doubt that. I suspect she was happy about Mercury coming into her sign, and she was fueled by Mars in Gemini, giving her a little extra energy to attend what needed to be attended.
I'll also go a little out of the way to suggest she was pretty sure her movement was not observed. Which made it all that much better. Most folks aren't watching Virgo. Most folks aren't too happy. There's a lot of untimely material floating about. But soon, very soon, you'll get a chance to do a little dance. Hope it's not observed.
Libra: One image I hold in my mind includes a single fact that Libra, as whole, tend to make sure that appearances are always correct. Presentation is important. Even a studied, casual look is generally orchestrated in such a way as to be proper. That's where the problem will occur, or so I'm warning you about. It's about Venus and she's going to infect your good taastes with a degree of disharmony. Not so much in a bad way, just, perhaps, maybe, or maybe not, but I'm betting, in a way that you don't necessarily like.
I once read an article about bass fishing pro, and this guy, in the article, had a swimming pool that his big winnings bought, and there was a stripe painted in the middle of the pool. He used the pool for casting practice. Probably nothing more. Me? I would've stocked the pool, too, but that's just me. Or lived on a lake. But that's me. His pool was for practicing casting. It was all about how he presented the bait to the fish. After a while, all of us fisherman can hit the same spot. What's important is how the bait is presented to the fish. So he wasn't just practicing hitting a target, he was also working towards getting the lure to land just right. "Presentation" is what it's called.
And your presentation, with Venus? Might not be what you want. However, in your defense, I'll add that my presentation of a lure to a fish usually isn't too good, either. But that doesn't stop me from trying, and sometimes, that big splash? That does attract the fish. It's all about how you use Venus in her current position.
Scorpio: "Listen," a buddy (not named bubba, ironically enough) said, "she won't pick up." He hit a speed dial number, and the phone on the other end, probably a cell phone, rolled over to voice mail after a half-dozen rings. "She's ditching me, I know." The waitress appeared with two plates on one arm and pitcher of ice tea in her other hand. She set the tea down, then plopped the plates in front of us, I was having a two-meat special, my buddy was doing the "all you can eat" deal.
Must've been a Tuesday. The waitress said something tacky to me, I responded in kind, my glass was refilled, and I picked up a delicious pork rib. My buddy picked up a beef rib, set it back on his plate, picked up the phone and hit the speed dial again. "She's avoiding me, I know. I suppose you'll blame this on one of your planet things, fisher-boy-o. Huh."
Yes, well, there you have it. Days later, I got a few hundred words from the same guy, apparently, the cell service was off, or the battery was dead, or she left her phone someplace, but life was happy again, for the moment, as she was talking to him again. Promising they'd get together soon. Sometime. Indeterminate time-frame, nebulous at best. Not that it matters, but hope does spring eternally in some people.
So when the phone goes unanswered, or there's a problem getting through to a certain person? Perhaps follow my suggestion and get back to what's in front of you, like maybe the BBQ. Couple of days later, peace will be restored, that I'll promise. Will it end with a "happy ever after"? Or will it be happy never after? That's a call I can't make, but it does look bad to call and not leave a message, like 16 times in an hour.
Sagittarius: Odds, numerical odds, are an amusing item to look at. What I've discovered, over the years, is that "40% chance of rain" means it will rain. "30%"? Not a chance. And any number from 70 to 100 percent (chance of rain) in the local forecast? It won't rain here. It'll look threatening, cloudy and overcast, but, no, not with those numbers. Might sprinkle a little, but no real rain.
So Sagittarius has a 40% chance, in traditional, local weather parlance. Which means, if it's rain you're looking for? Then it will rain. I'm only giving it a 40% chance of success this week, but then, I'm also accustomed to the entertainment provided the local weather prognostication folks. I rarely, if ever, pay attention the local chatter about weather, What I do watch is the barometer and temperature. Solid indication. Chance of rain? Or chance of Sagittarius success? 40%.
Capricorn: The planet tides are turning. I went from having a lot of interaction with Leo types to having a lot of Capricorns pop up in the last few days. Capricorn at the burger place, Capricorn making coffee, Capricorn calls for readings... I'd offer some kind of explanation, but I'm inclined to rack this one up to Saturn, in the final stages of Leo.
There's an impending feeling, and I was about to suggest "impending doom," but that's hardly how I'd spell this out. It's not about doom and gloom, rather, it's just the opposite. To be sure, there is still the problem with Venus and her apparent motion. Her action, or, as the case may be, inaction. But there's also Saturn, and there's a sense in Capricorn that it's time to do something to prevent the coming apocalypse. Which I hardly for see. And in particular, I hardly see any problems in Capricorn. "Hardly see," he says, grumbles a Capricorn reading this, but I'm suggesting a little action seems to be stirring in your chart. As such, take appropriate steps. Remember Venus, but worry about her? Why? I'd suggest marching forward with anything affected by Saturn, and leaving off the Venus stuff until later.
Aquarius: Old fishing lore suggests that cheap, canned dog food is good for attracting various kinds of fish. I'll add to that, it also attracts snapping turtles, but that information is based on my highly unscientific observations. I haven't used old, canned dog food for while, but there was one can, left over, and I was going to toss its contents in the lake, sort of spice of the local habitat.
As soon as I punctured the can, though, the ground stuff inside formed a small geyser and I had stale dog food splattered around the kitchenette. As I tried to enlarge the hole, to alleviate the pressure built up in the can, I succeeded in making a larger mess. Eventually, the contents of the can, or most of it, made it into the lake as chum. But it wasn't a pretty sight. The fish seemed quite happy, though. I was stuck with a minor mess to clean up, and the chum, while it did attract tiny fish, never really served its purpose of attracting larger game. Lesson learned? Probably not. Aquarius point? Old lore, myth and fishing tales, plus their ilk, are sometimes best left untouched.
Pisces: I really figured, later, it was the eyeliner make-up. But at the time, at the moment, I mean, when I first encountered the young lass, I was just totally captivated by her eyes. Big, solemn, merry, hinting at much, much more. Yet, it was all, truth be told, an act. Designed, by her, I'm sure, to make her most useful characteristics more appealing. Compelling. Captivating. It worked. For the moment, I was totally swept away.
It's taken me years to figure out what the magic is, and near as I can tell, it's just a trick many females employ, a little pencil-looking thing, and I'm toast. For a few minutes, anyway. But it works. It might really be a cheap shot, too, considering that I do spend time searching some person's eyes, attempting to play "window into the soul" tricks. Hide and seek, I'd guess.
"Dude, like, if you think I'm going to be wearing eyeliner, better think again," said one of my buddies. That's not what this is about, it's about taking a single feature, highlighting it, and using its magic in the moment. Could be a simple trick like eyeliner. Could easily be something else, too. But the idea is that there's a fairly economical bit of enhancement that will work. I'm thinking, I'll be drawing eyelashes on a fishing lure soon. Might work, too.
Aries: Simply put, it's all about binary choices. There aren't a lot of gray areas with this one. And what I'd like to remind you, my fine Aries friend, is that the decision process can be difficult, but once made, you've got to be prepared to stick with your Aries answer.
It's really simple.
Left or right, black or white, north or south, east or west? Which will it be? That's up to you. But take a moment to project past the current frame of reference, too, and think about lasting impact of the immediate decision. Consider the long-term affect. Think carefully before you make what seems like an innocuous binary decision.
Taurus: A neighbor, a fine Taurus lad, sipping a fine wine out of glass jar cup, approached me one afternoon. Hot summer afternoon, the sun beginning to set. As is his style the neighbor strolls about the grounds, and carries on conversations with various residents. As he approached, he asked about the point of fishing. Why catch and release? I have a theory, that it's an answer to the old genetic embedded in my form, wherein I need to hunt for food. Only, I'm much too lazy, to really exert the energy required for hunting, or preparing what I catch, but still, the idea is there, some buried and somewhat dormant genetic code.
As one great philosopher imparted, though, "If you think fishing is about the fish, then you're misguided." A school of perch were carefully watching my movements, tracking me. I was sure bass were lurking behind them. The late afternoon was finally cooling off, and I was standing at the edge of the river. Pole in hand, shirt off, certainly enjoying myself and the surroundings. Couldn't be doing better. It's a matter of perspective, and maybe that's what this is all about. And my neighbor -- Taurus -- just what he needed. I could wax eloquent, philosophical, or, just as a little fish took some bait from me, distracted. All in a conversation about motivations.
Gemini: "You're going to swim to post office?" I was really, in my shorthand way, suggesting I was going to include a swim and a trip to the post office, all on foot, as the afternoon's form of entertainment. Perfectly reasonable way to spend a hot summer afternoon in Texas, cold water, hot pavement. Business, too. All in a day's work, to me. But it was the shorthand version of my schedule that got me hung up. "Swim. Post office," was what I said. What was heard? "Swim (to) post office."
Punctuation, I would suppose, is one of those items that everyone needs. Since so much of my communication is written, I made a typical mistake in figuring that the punctuation was understood. It wasn't. Simple enough, verbal shortcuts don't always translate across the lines between the signs.
Mars makes Gemini a little more prone to using a similar, if not identical, list of ingredients, an itinerary, a selection of destinations, or some kind of Gemini-infused punch-list. Careful how it is delivered. If you can slow down the Gemini delivery? Perhaps make sure the punctuation is understood? Maybe present the data as a bullet chart, too? Something along those lines to help non-Gemini folks keep up with what's happening in Gemini land? Don't make my mistake and try to swim to the post office.
Cancer: I walked into a familiar coffee shop, and in the back area, by the bar, cables snaked around to bright lights. A camera person was running a large camera. The interior of the shop was lit up in a way, well, it was probably brighter than it had ever been. My first clue should've been the tractor-trailer and the little generator running, alongside it, parked on the street outside. I can miss obvious clues. It was either a film shoot, a commercial being shot, or, judging by the truck's and support personnel, maybe an independent film with a decent budget. One of those.
I was no mood to be famous, or almost famous, or included as an extra in the film. When I saw the interior all lit up, I glanced at the familiar barista, nodded hello, and I was about to ask, but a guy with a clipboard moved towards me. I've been around enough movies to know that it was a release, and I'm not willing to be an extra. Use me? Then pay me. "Check with my agent," is my standard line. As if I really had one, but it spooks the help, usually. I just backed away, and I'll never know what they were shooting.
My fault for missing the first, kind of an obvious one, clue. Support trailers all look the same. My second mistake was going in the door of the place. My first correct action, number three on the list of things I did? I backed out, and went someplace else. It's not like there's a lack of coffee shops willing to serve me, no, not a problem. While this was a minor disruption in my routine, I'm sure it was a bigger deal to the staff. Maybe they got paid for being extras. But this isn't about them, it's about me. It's also about my reaction to a certain situation. I'd like to suggest, when faced with two obvious clues, the power lines, the trailer and generator, maybe, you don't do like me, and follow it in, anyway.