For the week starting: 10.16.2008

"A jewel in a ten-times-barr’d-up chest
Is a bold spirit in a loyal beast."
Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of King Richard the Second (I.i.185-6)

libLibra: I was at the doctor’s office, getting ready to get poked and prodded. The nurse (medical assistant) hooking me up to the machine took a look at what I was wearing, my demeanor, and tried, in the spirit of light conversation. Asked if I worked outdoors.

"No, I travel a lot, though."

"You’re a truck driver?" She asked.

I was greatly amused by that question. I get a lot of guesses, a lot of questions, and sometimes I don’t tip my hand too soon. I was gently reminded that I’m a writer, and as such, I don’t have an easy taxonomy for many. It’s less about appearances, and more being on the receiving end of this pointed conversation.

As people make rash, hurried decisions about your Libra self, based upon appearances, don’t let your delicate Libra psyche get bruised. These are gentle reminders about where you are, where you’ve been, and what’s up ahead. So what if someone thinks you look like a truck driver? Does it really matter, or was it that "casual dress" you were looking for, in the first place?

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scoScorpio: Pause, hold it, wait, pause just a little longer, now hold that, wait, just a little longer. That’s this week. This weekend. First couple of days of next week. Mars is frying along in Scorpio, sort of a nice combination, adds a little lift, a little activity, and some much needed energy.

The whole point to utilizing astrology, though, is to help plan and look at forward tending trends. This way of looking at the immediate future, sort of like next week’s news today? I’m asking my little Scorpio friends to cool it. Your birthdays are coming up soon, but I the next couple of days? Just let someone else shine in the light. Step to the side, let somebody else assume to the role of agent, engineer, provocateur, amateur, zealot, and so forth. Let someone else hog all the attention. Maybe let that Libra get the last of the birthday recognition, first. Scorpio, darling, your time is coming, Just not quite yet. Pause.

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sag Sagittarius: There comes a time in everyone’s life when a guilty pleasure is called for. I’m not talking about sweet food, or liquor, or sweet food and liquor, no, this about hidden secrets. I watched a "G-Rated" film the other afternoon. Caught a weekday matinee, as it fit in my schedule just fine. Hiked over to the big multi-plex cinema. Didn’t buy anything but a ticket. I was tempted to sneak in some candy, but I’m staying away from sugar as much as I can — sugar isn’t good for the Sagittarius ethereal body.

But this isn’t about real sugar, or the most common euphemism for sugar, this is about a saccharine sweet movie. I won’t mention a company’s name, but think about mouse ears. Comic mouse ears. I think there was me, another lonely adult and maybe one lady with small child. It is times like this that grandchildren are devoutly wished for. As cover. If only I’d had kids then grandkids, I’d have an excuse to be in that theater, watching that movie.

It’s all about indulging a guilty, feel-good pleasure that doesn’t rot your teeth, or exhaust your adrenal glands, or have anything else wrong with it. I’m not saying that every Sagittarius should do this, this weekend, next week, but if enough of us do? We can help. Start by finding that guilty pleasure, like that kid’s movie, and consider it a safe place to begin.

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cap Capricorn: It’s relatively, especially for me, easy to be cheesy. But I’m a goof-ball by nature, and this isn’t a stretch for a character like me. However, as a Capricorn, it is a stretch. Or, not as much as some people, but there’s a serious side that needs to lighten up some. Only, I’d watch the corn-ball stuff. I’d watch the cheese factor. I’d watch the jokes that might be too dry for mere mortals (non-Capricorn) folks to understand or see the humor because the reach is too far.

It’s a leap that I can make, but I’m a trained professional.

My little Capricorn friends? Got to watch that stuff. There are jokes, insides, asides, various delivery techniques, and sometimes, it just doesn’t work. Stick to either broad humor, or straight-up slapstick. Stick with a form — or medium — that is easily understood. I get the the little jokes that most people miss. But then, I live in a darkly humorous world. Like Capricorn. Just for the this next few days? Might want to constrain your weird jokes. (It’s not like I have a lot of room to move on this one.)

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aquAquarius: To make it work, once the Full Moon is over with? To make your Aquarius life a little easier? Stay in the groove. Sounds kind of bland, maybe a little bunk, but you’ve got to stick with me on this one.

The "groove" can mean a number of different things to a diverse group like Aquarius. To me, though, I was thinking about fishing. It was along afternoon, not long ago, and I was in the back of the boat. As I went to cast out a line, I noticed that the fishing line on that reel wasn’t winding correctly. I was tired, in the middle of the afternoon, from a start before sunrise, and I wasn’t in a mood to deal with equipment issues. Line unspooled like it was supposed to, and I picked up another pole. I gave the bait a toss, my arm was a little wild, and the bait, hook, line & sinker, none of that landed where I wanted it.

I finally realized I was fatigued, so I sat down for a moment’s rest, then marshaled and corralled my thoughts, brought my focus back to fishing — jumped back into the present. I reeled in the one that didn’t land where I wanted it. I paid closer attention to my physical actions, and I got that line back out, where I wanted it. That morning, the actions were second nature, requiring no concentration for a flawless fling. But by late afternoon, I was exhausted. That’s when focus was increasingly important. It’s late afternoon, this next week, you have to concentrate to get the parts to work correctly. They will, if you focus.

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pis Pisces: This is going to be some fun, coming up. That can be a totally ironic statement, or it can be a totally factual statement, or it can be a somewhat facetious expression. It’s all about what you choose, the first thing in the morning, when you wake. It’s all about how you care to tackle that which lays in front of you. It’s all about the choices that you make. Some of these are big decisions, momentous even. Others? It could be a simpler kind of choice. Cream or 2% in the coffee? Dry coffee creamer? Black? Sugar or sweetener, or bitter?

Personally, I like my coffee black with no sweetener. But that’s just my personal preference. Sometimes, in the afternoon, I’ll like a little touch of foamed milk, just enough to let espresso curl up around the dollop. Soften the flavor without impinging on the true essence of the beverage. Which is a choice that I make.

You get to make some decisions. Starts with what kind of a day you want to have. Starts with how you face some of the daily adversity. Starts with your attitude. As I’ve suggested, I tend to see this as "fun," perhaps as challenging, but Pisces amusement is all but guaranteed. The way you deal with what happens, your attitude, that decides whether it’s an ironic statement, the "fun" part, or if that is factual.

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ariAries: If the Fall Equinox (Northern Hemisphere) was a subtle turning point, or maybe, not such a subtle point, then this week is about whatever it was supposed to be about. The turning point. The transition. The place where you decide what’s right in the Life of an Aries, and for that matter, what’s not right.

Some of this is fixable. I’d just like you to understand that. We can fix some of the problems. Nothing is irreparable. However, as an Aries, you’ve got to decide what’s worth fixing, and then, sometimes, there are items that you think, "If I had unlimited time and plenty of material to work with, I could fix this." See, that’s where a judgement call is required.

At what point do you decide the effort to rescue and repair outweighs the value of the item? Or, as I’m inclined to believe, the situation. When do you call it quits?

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tauTaurus: For years, I’ve worked at convention/trade show arenas. Hotel and motel meeting rooms. All varies. All different yet eerily similar. Mostly, I’ve worked at long tables, about 6 or 8 feet in length and 18 inches wide. Two of the tables together would make a single dinner or library table. So I’m used to working at this skinny little tables, barely enough room for a computer, some astrology charts, and my business cards. Or tarot cards, which are business cards to me.

It’s hard for me to kick out my long legs and not have them poke out on the far side of the skinny tables. Means I can’t really relax fully. Not that it’s bad, it just is. I stretched, one time, and my leg ran into my client’s leg. She thought I was making a pass, or something, me, being overly familiar. Which I wasn’t, not intentional, not unintentionally, not in any way, shape or form. It’s all about work, and after I’ve been sitting for a few hours, doing readings, I’d like to stretch.

While I live in a small space, I do have ways to stretch periodically. So the confines of a half-library table is rather limiting for me. See how a single stretching motion can get horribly misinterpreted? That’s the warning, observation and solution to the Taurus week. Maybe don’t stretch like that in the first place? Or whatever the genuinely innocent motion is? Watch it. Those tables are skinny.

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gem Gemini: One of my buddies, he’s got, like, the Guardian Angel thing going on. Especially with his driving. He, Gemini, what did you think? He’ll be all over the road, talking to me, talking on the phone, fiddling with the CD player, and driving. All he needs is a cigarette in one hand to really complete the image, but he doesn’t smoke, hasn’t ever. Weird like that. Gemini weird.

I was thinking about my buddy and his errant driving, no tickets, no fender benders, nothing, and I was looking at the planets. Libra Sun, Mars in Scorpio, Moon goes to its final quarter phase, what’s it mean? That’s where the driving thing comes in. In his rule book, his internal Gemini rules, he doesn’t have to follow the lines on the road. The laws of the streets don’t apply to him. And he drives in a manner that bears this out. The white lines, yellow lines, the lines we all have to follow? He thinks of them as guidelines, and he’ll swerve back into his lane, if there’s oncoming traffic.

Unless you think you’re lucky enough to bet on that guardian angel, then I’d suggest you stick a little bit closer to the traffic guidelines, these next few days. Might not even be traffic rules, but some rules? Behooves you to follow a little closer than you’re used to following. That’s how we all arrive safe and sound.

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can Cancer: There’s this weird thing, and I don’t have a better word for it. It’s like a something comes over a person. In my situation, it’s usually a female. I can’t speak for other people because I’m not them. So take this on its allegorical level, but imagine that a woman in my company starts to cycle through some "feelings," whatever those might be.

"Hold me, no, don’t touch me. I want you to communicate, but don’t talk, and don’t touch me, okay?" Ain’t my first rodeo. Seen this before. There is nothing that I can do that will be really right. However, to staunch the potential flow of blood (mine) and the probable flow if tears (hers), there are steps I can take.

Sit down. Shut up. Listen. Reach for tissues and chocolate. Or coffee. Or wine. Maybe whiskey, although, in my long years, certain intoxicants tend to exacerbate rather than ameliorate the perceived problems(s). But there is a substance that has curative and palliative effect. Slowly, no sudden moves, reach for that. There’s a lot of emotional material that’s cycling through Cancer’s quadrant of the sky. Is it good? Bad? Neither, in my understanding, just the emotional elevator going up and down. To an outside observer of the Cancer psyche though, it can be difficult to figure out which way is up. Keep that in mind when you tell us what to do.

"I’m not emotinal — I hate you. No, please, come here."

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leo Leo: I’ve got one playlist that’s got a weird collection of Xmas songs. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Lone Star, Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Bill Idol, Willie Nelson, and so forth. Singing xmas songs.

I have a personal belief that Xmas before Thanksgiving is a heinous crime. Just a personal belief, but that’s the way I feel. I was digging around on an iPod, looking for some music and I hit that playlist. I was gently rocking out to Trans-Siberian Orchestra, I think, then I realized, it’s not yet Halloween, much less Thanksgiving, and this is just way too early to be playing this kind of a game. Music — can’t be listening to this music yet. I violated, in the worst way possible, my own internal rules. The worst way. I can whip myself, I can berate myself, or, I can just just shrug, it was an accident, didn’t mean to do it. Besides, one retail giant isn’t wrapped up with Halloween before launching T-day and Xmas crap so it’s, really, not my fault. Right?

While this does violate my own, internal rules, it really doesn’t offend anyone else, other than people with good taste. Good sense and good taste. Xmas carols in October? That’s so tacky. I’m still in shorts and sandals most of the week. You’re going to do like me, and you’re going to step outside your internal parameters, whatever that imaginary line is, and you will recoil in horror. Afterwards. If you do this quietly? No one is around? No one will know. Secret’s safe with me. Provided, of course, you keep it secret. "I’m dreaming of a white Xmas…"

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vir Virgo: Last week, maybe it was the week before? Bluebird skies. Not a cloud in the sky. Visibility that seemed to stretch all the way to the moon. A few days later? Socked in with clouds, those low, dull, aching clouds that are foreboding. Clouds that look they are slate grey — the color of a TV turned to a dead channel, without the white noise.

What’s worse, here in South Texas, with those clouds? Looks like it might be cold and miserable outside, and instead it’s that point where it’s really not cold. Not at all. Not hot, either, mind you, but cool. But certainly not cold. Just looks cold. The problem, then, is me. I get dressed for cold weather, I mean, it’s almost Halloween, should be cooler, correct? Only, outside, it’s still hot. Worse, it’s hot and muggy. And cloudy, too. I gave up trying to guess at the weather.

I’d like to suggest that Virgo, too, quit trying to guess at the weather. Might not be the actual weather outside, could be the astrological weather, but what it looks like, cold, gray, foreboding, and what it really is? Cool, damp, muggy? They are worlds apart. Hence the problem. Nothing beats empirical observation instead of looking out the window. And those low, gray clouds? Usually means god bass fishing weather. I’m just saying.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at

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