"Well said, that was laid on with a trowel."
Shakespeare’s As You Like It [I.ii.96]
Sun moves into Aquarius. Upcoming shows and stuff.
Aquarius: Happy birthday, it’s getting a little better, now isn’t it? I was hoping to run some of that material together, but it didn’t quite work right. I was sort of imagining that sentence like one, long word. No interruption. No breath marks. No room for rest, either. Sort of rushed, not exactly with panic, just hurried. That’s part of the point. But when you run words together like that, it does tend to evoke a sense of panic. Panic and confusion, Perhaps even a little fear. That isn’t so good.
I’m trying my best to alleviate the fear and panic. The hurried stuff? I can’t fix that. There’s a persistent rush to just about all the action in the Aquarius corner. I can’t make that go away, but I can recommend that you allow a little extras time. What’s going to happen, in a rush to get out some mission critical piece of information, another — non-Aquarius — party is going to misunderstand your haste. Your Aquarius haste and efficiency will be mis-read as panic.
In some situations, this can have dire effects. But as I got to thinking about it, I wonder if this can’t be turned to your advantage, at some point? Act like yourself, another person interprets this as panic and rushes to provide succor. Maybe this isn’t so bad, after all. And it is your birthday-time starting soon.
Pisces: From the files, from the files of overheard conversations, not from my client files, it’s about a situation that’s really kind of sad. There was a divided family, the usual messy divorce, and what the evil ex-husband did, the ex-wife gave him money to buy shoes for the kids, and at the end of the weekend, when the kids were exchanged, there were no new shoes and no money.
I’m not supposing that this was really that telling of an event. The ex-wife should’ve known, going in, that this is typical behavior since there was a long precedent of similar actions. Not like this was any surprise. Annoying? To be sure. But to be caught completely by surprise? Can’t say it was that new. But let’s forget this, and the exasperation that goes with an ex doing exactly what that ex has done so many time before, let’s pop on around to your stars.
You give someone some money, expecting one action, and for some reason, the money never makes it to its intended destination. Then your Pisces self acts all surprised. But like that ex-husband, you really should’ve known better. Me? I’d call it a cheap lesson. You? Call it what you want, but be careful about expecting someone else to change, no matter what they say.
Aries: Flow dynamics, I would expect, would have something to do with pipelines and delivered product in sealed canisters. As it turns out, there’s flow dynamics that work in our bodies, with the arteries and such. Then, too, when I was at the post office the other afternoon, a little after two. Walked right up to the window and got my package. Paid for some stamps, too, if I recall.
However, if I’d been there an hour or two earlier? The way the flow dynamics work? Place would’ve been packed, and I would have to wait a fraction of hour before I could transact my business.
It’s all about timing. What astrology is about, too, and what Mars is a about: flow dynamics, when and where. If you stop and think about it, you’ll easily realize that there’s a time and place to act. Maybe hitting a hotspot when it’s full? Maybe that’s not the right idea. Maybe think and adjust your timing a little, just try a little offset, maybe an hour or so earlier or later, and see if that doesn’t help. Walk right in and take charge: the Aries way.
Taurus: File this one under "not clear on the concept." See, we got my dear, sweet (should be a sainted, need to contact the Vatican about that) Ma Wetzel all up to speed using e-mail. That was great. But then, she mailed a small package that contained printed out versions of all the thank-you notes she’d e-mailed.
Sort of becomes cyclic, I guess. Or just unclear of the concept of e-mail. "I wasn’t sure you saw that last note, so I thought I’d print it out and send it, you know, make sure you got it."
Which I did. But that kind of redundancy, that’s what this is all about. There are some times when the extra step is gratefully acknowledged. Then, too, there are times when that extra step is just an added burden, and that added burden is something that the sweet Taurus folks have to bear.
Gemini: I’m not a gambling man, not so much. One of the reasons why I don’t gamble is I’m a poor loser. As a Gemini, I’m sure you’ll understand. I can easily grasp the sentiments of being a good loser, I just can’t actually lose well. So I was visibly agitated when I lost. Lost big. I was in Las Vegas, and we were playing Keno in the coffee shop. I pick a few lucky numbers, like my birthday and so forth, and I tend to just let them ride for a dollar. Only the Keno runner didn’t pick up my dollar and my slip. When the screen flashed the numbers, over the next few minutes, I realized I had enough for an $800 win. If only.
Life is full of "if only" situations. The Gemini life is got more than its fair share of "if only" situations coming up. One might have just passed you by, but there are several more headed your way. I let out a small wail when I realized I’d missed the money on that one bet. I could’ve raised a lot of hell, too, but that would only have gotten me forcibly ejected from the premises.
Silly goal of mine is never to get kicked out again. I’m not too keen on the landings when I’m thrown out. Besides, in part, some of the problem was mine, since, if I was so sure, I should’ve signaled, hunted, or otherwise attracted the Keno runner’s attention. My bad. I miss the $800, but there’s an object lesson here.
Regrettably, it’s a lesson I’m not learning, but I’ll pass it on to the Gemini, all about paying attention to the details. If you’re going to pony up and make that wager? Make sure the money is in the bookie’s hand. If you’re going to play that game, make sure you’ve got a dog in this fight. Chances are, odds are good, you’re going to pull a stunt similar to mine. You win, only you don’t. That won’t do either of us any good.
Cancer: Living close to downtown, close to the freeway and close to the big office buildings, I’ve got a chance to see a lot of two kinds of people: suits and homeless. I’ve also got a fairly strict internal rule about the homeless panhandlers: no. I don’t give them a penny. There are two exceptions, one guy is a Leo, and our conversations are worth the change I donate to him. The other guy never asks for money. It’s charity case that defies any bounds, but again, since he never asks, I gladly donate. But those are the exceptions, the rule is hard and fast with me, don’t give them money as it perpetuates a cycle of dependency and fosters a sense of guilty giving in myself.
So the first rule is never give them anything and the second rule is an exception to the first rule. Or maybe it’s a rule and a dependent clause. Anyway, they are my rules, so I can bend them as I see fit. I’m not sure where you are exactly in the this cycle of giving and receiving. I’m not sure where you stand with your charity work, or your charitable side. I do offer a branch of astrofish.net that is the "not-for-profit" version, astrofish.org, and and I’d gladly accept donations there.
However, this isn’t about me panhandling, this is about how you manage your Cancer resources, and this isn’t limited to money, either. Time is a resource, and perhaps donating a little time towards a worthy cause is what is called for. You will have to work it out how you want to, but the message is about managing your resources wisely, fairly, and tithing an appropriate amount. You figure what works for you, like my hard and fast rule about never giving.
Leo: Brush with fame. Near miss. So close you can taste it. Call it the way you want to, but there’s a palpable hit, a near miss, a close call, a nearly — almost — not quite but kind of event. This next few days, tending towards next week. But I’m willing to be quite incorrect. I’m real willing to be labeled as "wrong" so you can get your just rewards.
I’m going to step up and offer my self — and more important — my reputation, putting it all on the line for the Leo. However, all my willingness to sacrifice for you? If it doesn’t happen, like if you do have that near brush with fame? Then I’m right. You should be discovered, the problem being, not every talent scout is listening to me. Therefore, this is a week of close calls. Near misses. Almost but not quite. I’m thinking, it’s one of those scenes where you’re the last person on the scene and as such, you wind up on the "edited outside of the equation."
While I would never edit out a Leo, I’m just suggesting that there is a problem, and rather than get you all worked up with false hopes, when it turns out that you didn’t make the cut this time? I warned you. Consider it all a practice run. Consider a chance to hone that acceptance speech. There is the converse side of the situation, the near-miss scenario that bares consideration. The naked truth is that maybe you don’t really want to be discovered in this fashion, not right now. That near miss might be for the best.
Virgo: "Here, I’ve just got a few of these left over, want one?" It was a pink dinosaur Xmas cookie. Two of them, in fact, along with a forlorn sugar-dusted angel. Three little snacks. The dinosaurs were pink, too, from a sugary coating of some sort. I’m not sure what it was. Nor, for that matter, do I get how a dinosaur relates to Xmas. I fail to understand that connection at all, but it might be my own, limited mindset.
Leftover Xmas cookies, or goodies of any kind? That’s what we’re all about here in Virgo land. It’s not, like this is a major secret, the real clue is that we’re willing to work with disparate elements, like pink-coated Xmas cookies that happen to be in the shape of a T-Rex. And there’s also the hint of the scavenger, too, the person willing to dig around and find the left-over Xmas goodies. I was thinking about the leftover stuff, and the deal is that I don’t want to put any of this material away and wait for another 12 months, or 11, anyway, until we use them again, that dusty angel? Probably grow pretty stale in that time. The pink T-Rex? Him, too.
So it’s matter of going ahead and scavenging what you can out of the the material that appears seasonal. And like shopping on the discount aisles, Mr. Saturn is giving us all an interesting time with his antics. Then, too, his action is emphasized by Jupiter. Which is why I’m suggesting that there might be a little bit of luck in scavenger department. Or the pink dinosaur area. Or both of them, together.
Libra: I was at a Starbucks, located inside another business. Bookstore, hotel, resort, someplace. Odd transaction because there was no tip jar. I realize it’s kind of like extortion, that tip jar by the cashier in most coffee shops, but long training in Austin stands me in good stead. I generally tip. I do so because I get to ask, "What’s your sign?" and I get to leer. Worth a dollar to me, paying my way, as it were.
So at this one Bucky’s, the absence of a tip jar was a little startling. Then too, there were two guys working. However, my order was rendered quickly and efficiently, the help was appropriately saucy, and that sent me searching for the tip jar. None to be found. I peeled off a single, and laid it on the counter, "I don’t see a place to stick this, don’t tell me, against company policy?" The guy behind the counter looked, smiled, and he said something about company policy, but if I left it there, he would take care of the health hazard.
I left the tip on the counter. Part of that is pure training because I’m used to paying for my own, obnoxious behavior. Part of that is tipping karma since, in part, I live on tips. But part of the equation is also human nature. Rules, and how to artfully circumvent those rules? Happens to be a point that Libra could really use taking a second look at. In this case, neither me nor the guy behind the counter was breaking any rules, but we were artfully circumnavigating the the established corporate policies and procedures. Which is just fine by me. Worked well for him, too. And judging from our interaction? Apparently I wasn’t the first person offer a way around the established business model. just doing our bit, or 2 bits, 4 bits, 6 bits, a little at a time.
Scorpio: I got tapped for a prediction panel. The only problem was my invite came at the last minute. This has happened twice, three times now. I began to realize I wasn’t on the promoters "A Team." I wasn’t even on the back-up list. I was some place pretty far down the line, like, the bottom the barrel. Like, "If we can’t get anyone else, have you tried contacting Kramer?"
Really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, now doesn’t it? This can evoke that nasty feeling leftover from childhood when we were the last picked to be on anyone’s team. I would hardly ever leave a Scorpio out, though, however, that is more my feeling at this point, knowing what I know about how useful a Scorpio can be on our team. But that’s just me. I’m a little different, which, in context, might be why I was picked last. But never mind that point now, this isn’t about childhood trauma.
It’s about that lack of warm and fuzzy feelings. You’re not feeling the love from anyone else, well, maybe me, but not many other folks are sharing the goodness and light. But like me, you’re going to get called in at a time when no one else will be able to solve the problem. While this kind of lifeline call lacks the material dressings that make it look good, it does prove that you are, indeed, indispensable.
Sagittarius: I was watching a music video. On the computer, one of those shared files sites. I was intrigued, then amused, then I wondered, from the background visuals, if I could see this band locally. Then, as I listened — and watched — a little longer? I decided that I’m not really up for seeing this band live. There was loud guitar. There was drumming banging away. The lead singer was swinging the microphone around like bolo. While I appreciated the musical artistry and the choreographed moves, the sheer youthful lust for life, and the inherent teenage angst, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be in the audience when this one band was playing a live set. Might get rowdy. Might get more physical than I’m willing to get. Might get nasty, and in a way I’m not prepared to match.
Too much energy, too much angst, a little too into the action of the song itself. While I love me my blazing guitars, I’m less sure that I want to be in the audience when the guitars start to blaze. Or when the lead singer starts to throw a mic stand. Or when he swings the microphone around like a lethal weapon. It’s matter of judging what’s safe, what’s not safe, and then, making an effort to err on the side of a prolonged Sagittarius life.
I’m not suggesting that we should all give up loud rock and roll for forever, but in the immediate future? It might not be a particular band, it could be a venue. Or a setting? Maybe a setting that sure would be fun, but maybe, not so much fun as a little wild. Perhaps too wild? Not one the shrink from adventure, I’m just saying, this next couple of days? I’m just suggesting more caution. More prudence. Less cowbell.
Capricorn: I was searching for a replacement "power brick" for one of the electrical things I’ve got. Just needed a power supply. Through the manufacturer? Retail, near as I could tell, old-school retail, price was close to fifty bucks. Problem being, the device won’t run without electricity. Funny how that works.
Now, I did a a little online comparison shopping, and I found a discount place that had the power brick for about a third less than full-on retail. But the place looked shady, to say the least. No address, just take your money. Not a good deal, as far as I was concerned. Then, finally, I looked at the auction site, they don’t pay me so I won’t advertise, but I’m sure the on-line auction site for electrical goodies is well-known to all. Found the brick there, and with shipping? Less than fifteen bucks. I didn’t spend a lot of time on this research. I didn’t spend a lot of money, either.
Therein is the clue for my Capricorn friends, there’s a balance point between shopping, seeking, uncovering, and then, too, a balance that amounts to nothing more than wasting time online. When I’m wasting time online, I call it research, but around here, I can get away with it. What’s the balance point between spending too much, and spending too much time to get it cheap?
