Horoscopes for the week: 1.28.2010

“We may, each wreathed in the other’s arms
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber”
Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus [II.iii.28-9]

    Fishing Guide to the Stars
    by Kramer Wetzel
    For the week starting: 1.28.2010

Aquarius: Microwave bacon is a heaven-sent. It’s fast, the cooking is enclosed, and the product is one of the few radiated foods that’s — arguably — tastier than the original version, in the frying pan. After a couple of household shuffles, though, I lost my old “bacon microwave dish.” It wasn’t much more than a hard plastic dish that could be used to roll paint, or make bacon. Or, in my case, any number of meat and meaty byproduct meals.

I went on a journey to acquire another “bacon maker.” I had no luck at the big, fine, super housewares store. No luck at the Super Wal-Mart. Not Target, not HEB (local grocery chain), not at Fiesta (another local chain), nowhere to be found. I began to question my own motives, and I had to question the validity of the search. Which, if one considers that it’s an item no longer available in the usual places, maybe, well, any good Aquarius will redouble the efforts.

With a backwards Mars opposing you? What’s going to happen? I was in an electronics superstore in Austin, a place called, oddly enough, Fry’s. I was looking for cables and computer hardware. My date — and my ride — she asked if I was still looking for a bacon maker. I nodded and she showed me one. In Fry’s of all places. It’s not what you’re looking for, it’s where you look. Especially under that Mars influence.

    Pisces:

I was in a little taco place, not far from home. Literally, right around the corner. Great place, if a little short on traditional ambience. Not the most photogenic place in the world; however, the food is continually plentiful and tasty. Inexpensive, plentiful and really good. Filling and fresh. Maybe not the place you’d take your mother, I’m just saying. The other morning, the coffee tasted, not just good, but extra special good.

From my seat, as I looked up over a morning paper — English paper kind of hard to find there — I asked, in fluent French, “Quel coffee aujoudui?” (What kind of coffee today?”) Yeah that’s me, right thing to say, in the most beautiful language in the world, and all they think there? “Crazy (euphemism for pale — anglo — male).” In a version of Spanish vernacular. TexMex swearing in a TexMex place. I’m the one who’s out of place.

But the coffee was just excellent. I’m not sure what the magic was, a clear palate? The aromatic blend of a hot griddle, bacon and deep-fried pork rinds? Perhaps there was a pecan blend in the coffee. I doubt it. Maybe it was early enough that the equipment was clean. I doubt that was it. Maybe a leftover hint of cinnamon. Maybe that was it. Maybe, just a working theory for Pisces, maybe it was a clear winter’s morning, like any day now, and it was one of those mornings when your head is clear, the Pisces eyesight works better, and no one gets it.

Aries: My little March Aries are having a bit of a tough go with the planet Saturn, these days. Not getting everyone, but some of the Aries are at a point where there’s a major amount of consternation and a distinct lack of concern from other people. Buried in the American Psyche, though, there’s a simple, “I can do this myself” attitude, part of that is our pioneer spirit, and part of that just has to be genetically encoded over generations of Americans.

I just have that little belief in the population as a whole “Can-do” and will. This is a gentle kick in the butt, from me, to your Aries self. Do it. Yes, the odds are long. So are the hours. Long, hard hours, arduous work, and the promise is great; however, the immediate pay-off looks to be pretty slim. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. Look for that, “If it’s meant to be, then it’s up to me,” kind of spirit down in your Aries soul. I know it’s there. Use it. Yes, you’re going to feel like you’re all alone. No, you’re not. But it might feel that way.

Your “ruling planet,” Mars, is backwards. Just means it’s up to you to get this thing done.

Taurus: A buddy of mine was delineating a recent foray into the medical side of life. At a point in her life wherein she needed to find out why her body was reacting the way it was reacting. After a collection of tests and blood work, the doctor, or team of doctors, or the person who probably really did all the work, the physician’s assistant, probably, she was told that she was “Lactose Intolerant.” Which evoked a reaction, “How can I be ‘lactose intolerant?’ I don’t even know what lactose is!”

As Mars makes his way backwards in Leo, a fixed sign, and as the Sun, Venus, Chiron and Neptune slide through Aquarius, remember that you’re being acted upon by forces you might, or might not, want to acknowledge. However, that doesn’t stop the interaction between all those fixed planets and your Taurus self.

The solution, though, just like the medical prognosis for my little friend? Just stop. A simple dietary change, just an adjustment to her lifestyle? Everything was better. Almost immediately.

Gemini: “I always tell them, ‘It’s on aisle 11,’ and that answers the question.” Buddy of mine was working in a grocery store. I got to asking him about customers and questions, and what was the normal drill. “Doesn’t matter what they’re looking for, it’s always on Aisle 11,” he was explaining. I haven’t checked, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find that there would only be 10 aisles in that store.

I wouldn’t put it past my Gemini friends. Sounds like a usual, flippant answer. The problems, though, we’re facing these days? You’re looking for something that is lost. Could be a person. Could be an idea. Could be the car keys. Ask the right person, and you’ll get a real answer. Ask the wrong person? Or if you’re Gemini answering questions? Bet the person, the place, the thing that you’re looking for? Probably on Aisle 11.

Cancer: I used to order a green tea in the afternoon. Hot afternoon, an iced green tea is good. I like mine well, the brand name is obvious, but I like mine strong. I’ll sip at it while the ice melts and waters down the green tea to its normal mix. I was ordering some the other afternoon. “Extra strong,” I said. “Oh, no water?” the clerk asked. “Right, no water,” I said. “Oh, okay, extra strong?” The clerk asked. “Right,” I said, and this begins to look like a comedy routine. Which, I couldn’t tell if the clerk was serious as he had that earnest look in his eyes. And it wasn’t my usual location. Order should be the same.

I like the place I usually trade, as this wouldn’t turn into a comedy routine. Makes it much easier. The bigger problem, in my mind, though, was gauging whether this was humor, what passed for humor, or if it was merely a counter person making an effort to appease a surly customer.

I don’t know if you like your iced green tea extra strong. I do. That extra large size, too. Ice and strong tea. Works well on hot afternoons. Might not be warm weather everywhere, but it was just last week, and the tea was the right concoction. Only, either me, or the clerk, was having a hard time. Which was it? Does it really matter?

In the Cancer slice of sky, there’s going to be an ongoing, maybe a running joke, kind of feeling, only, the problem is, you’re not sure if it’s a joke or the other person is serious. Even after thinking about it for the duration of that ice tea? I still don’t know the right answer. Be careful. Never a good idea to offend the people who serve us food stuffs (and beverages).

Leo: I’ve visited about all the “sacred sites” around the world that I’ve been interested in visiting. In front of the cathedral that’s located on the island in the middle Paris (France)? There’s a small marker indicating something or other was started there. Or beheaded. Or had an epiphany — something I don’t recall what. Doesn’t much matter, not to me.

It was a summer’s night, not that long ago, last decade or so, and there was a fire dancer in front of the cathedral. An older form of worship in front of a newer place, and that new place? Pretty symbolic in and of itself. France had a long-standing argument with Italy about who was more important in the holy church’s hierarchy. I’m glossing over close to a thousand years of history because the single image I was working with? That fire dancer? In front of Notre Dame, on a summer’s eve, not long ago? Symbolism and history and a depth of material that is holy, on several levels.

It’s a matter of appreciating the old ways, and recognizing when that’s being updated. Then, too, it’s a matter of not letting one belief system get in the way of another belief system. Like that fire dancer in front of the holy catholic church, all sort of fit together. Which is a message to the Leo corner, about how tolerance can be observed.

Virgo: Snarky is good, well, usually. Irony, especially that dry, verbal irony? Sarcasm and its cousins? Gentle mocking, ribald humor, snide and occasionally rude comments that are meant to illustrate a point? Yeah, all that’s good. Well, usually. Can’t say that you’re not able to mock an opponent, and to do so with a certain style and élan? Yes, you’re good at that, usually.

Gentle and sometimes, not-so-gentle sarcasm? Intended to instruct and elucidate? Yeah, good stuff. Normally. This isn’t a normal time. Haul back on that Virgo cutting-edge humor.

That material that might be so harsh that some folk might find it offensive? While that’s not your intent, as you know, and see? Even I get it. But that’s two of us, and there’s a whole lot of other people who just don’t get it. Easiest way to prevent this from happening? Write it down. Save that cutting comment for another time, when someone else — besides you and me — save it for a time when the other people will see it as funny, too.

Libra: Devoutly sought, long-anticipated, finally? It’s about time. What this is about, really. I’d like to think that I’m a lay expert when it comes to matters like High Tea. When I refer to “High Tea,” too, I mean the art form as practiced predominately by the British aristocracy. Or, better yet, the myth as propagated and supposedly starting with the British aristocracy.

As such, there will be a little finger sandwiches with the crust cut off. What happens to the crusts? I don’t know. At a local version of high tea, there were requisite finger sandwiches; however, there was a problem, in their haste the workers in the kitchen neglected to trim the crust from the sandwiches. Overall? This isn’t a major setback. In a minor way? It’s an irritant to my refined and biased cultural outlook.

How big of an irritant? Not so big. I was hungry, not such a big deal, not to me. But I’m not a Libra, and as such, it might be a bigger deal to a Libra. My simple suggestion? As a tactful way to deal with the extant problems in Libra land? Let them know, the server, the manager, someone, let them know that the crusts are supposed to be trimmed. Next time.

Scorpio: The way I heard the tale, Iceland is the body of a dragon that was slain, and its liver? Still burns beneath the surface, why there’s lava and volcanos and all that, there. Which isn’t what I thought, I figured the lava and the volcanos are part of an active plate tectonic system.

A rift, a narrow a point in the Earth’s crust. Shows what I do, or don’t, know. I liked the story behind the sea monster, the dragon’s body and its liver, still burning. As a Scorpio, you’re more than passing familiar with the idea that a problem can burn, forever and always, just like that dragon’s liver. A burning sensation strong enough, a burning issue, something that keeps the fire stoked for all time.

I suppose, in geologic time, eventually, that fire will subside. I’m sure, in time, eventually, that fire will subside in Scorpio.

    This week?

Not as likely. There’s a burning issue, a burning desire, or a situation that just burns you up, and there’s nothing — nothing — you can do about it right now. Period. End of Scorpio discussion.

Face to face with this dragon’s ever-burning liver, the Scorpio ire? You can lament, moan, ketch and try a number of avenues for complaints. Or, you can just make up a story that fits the scenario. You can slay dragons, I just don’t see it happening in the next few days.

Sagittarius: Putatively, it’s winter time in South Texas. Which is why, I was trying to figure out, what’s with the dingle balls on the furry boots? There is about one whole month that’s cold, and that month is spread out through three months, from December through February. Just as soon as it gets cold, it warms up again in a few days. Not a problem, just the way it is. But that made me curious about what the deal was, with the amount of furry boots I’ve seen, on warm days, and each of the furry boots? Dingle balls.

As a Sagittarius, you share my vexation and possible consternation. Dingle balls on boots , that, in and of itself, doesn’t make a lot of sense. Add fur. Again, not a lot of sense. However, dues to the number I’ve seen? I’m guessing this is the latest fashion tip.

That’s good. I guess. Not a fashion I’ll be embracing any time time soon, no, not me. However, patient observation will reveal similar, if not identical, findings. A proper sense of the absurd? That will help, as you, like me, try to figure out why someone would wear furry boots, with dingle balls, when it’s close to 70 outside.

Capricorn: In high-end retail, there was a time when the bag that the goods went into? That was almost as valuable as the purchases themselves. Then, to, there’s a whole school of thought behind the design of the high-end retail packaging. Xmas is just passed, and I know my Sister gets giddy when she sees an Apple Store bag, the plain plastic bag.

Me? I tend to reuse those items, over and over. Turns out, the average bag, whether it’s from a corner grocery store, or from a high-end retail giant, or even just that ubiquitous behemoth like Wal-Mart? That “average” bag gets used 2.7 times. I’m figuring that some of those uses are legitimate, like, good for cat litter and dog poop. Some of those uses might be un-standard, like the way I always save an Apple bag to package anything for my Sister. Or a Bass Pro Shop bag, those work equally well for Sister. She has a certain look when she unwraps anything thusly packaged.

But it’s all pretty outside wrapping, has nothing to do with what’s on the inside. The last time I gave a gift of fine, expensive jewelry? It was wrapped in a Wal-Mart bag, just for the shock value. It’s about packaging — all about Capricorn packaging — this week. Consider that as you wrap up a new deal. Or an old deal gets a new packaging arrangement.

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

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