“‘So ’tis good, very good, very excellent good;
And yet it is not, it is but so.”
Shakespeare’s As You Like It [V.i.26]
Capricorn: I live in Texas. I was born and raised in East Texas, which, without too much geography, it’s right close to Louisiana. New Orleans has long been a party destination for my friends and families. I have a distant brother located in the Big Easy. I have a long-standing respect for both Louisiana natives and their foods. Stuff of legends.
Best one I heard recently? “We were there for Mardi Gras, and after walking the Quarter all day, we came to this one bar, I pulled out a gold card and said we were going to sit and drink until we felt better.” Apparently shoes came off. New Orleans, I’m sure other stuff was exposed, too. But I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I just really liked the “sit and drink until we feel better” quote. It’s a perfect companion to how to deal with a situation like this week presents. There’s going to be one (1) uncomfortable issue. Pluto/Sun/Moon thing. How you deal with it? Whip out that “emergency only” piece of plastic. Sit and drink until your feet — or psyche — feels better. Doesn’t work for everyone, and the particulars might need to be adjusted, but you get the idea. Happy Birthday, too!
Aquarius: I’ve long held a fascination for characters with a natal Venus in Aquarius. There’s a combination of a perception of aloof, along with an inherent mental process that fascinates me as an astrologer, and that combination of elements is topped off with a weirdness quotient that I, personally, consider quite attractive. Venus is in Aquarius, even now. Loping along, making merry.
Like most Aquarius, you’re ahead of the curve and ahead of the schedule, whatever that might be. There’s an alluring element that Venus just naturally brings out. With everything else going on, the pressure is on, but you don’t have to give into the pressure. That, I think, is the secret. There’s the usual Aquarius desire to follow your own lead, and I’d suggest you do just that. Go where you want.
Pisces: “He who lives by the electric sword shall die by the electric sword!” Swoosh. It was last minute client call, and one of those “Mercury is retrograde” things where the time and date got confused. To my delight, I had the electronic version of everything, all the correspondence, proved that I was calling at the allotted hour, doing the right thing, following the proscribed course of action. Agreed upon, in writing. The little Pisces dug through her notes, time and again, and what we determined, as she figured it out, was that she forgot to send me the last change in schedule requirements. If I’m not notified, preferably 24 hours in advance? Unless you’re a really good Pisces, it’s hard to turn back the hands of time. What happened was the last change to the schedule never got “sent.” Pisces: clue: this week: make sure you hit “send.” Failure to do so? Means no one gets updated.
Aries: I have a couple of clients, two of them are Aries, and both those people need a breathalyzer on the phone. An occasional drunken dialing incident is excusable, but repeat offenders? Should be shot. In the Aries example? I was going to suggest breaking their fingers, but as an Aries, you know, if you want something, a small injury like that won’t stop you. I have an image of an Aries, drunkenly trying to dial the cell phone keypad with a nose. Now, let us stretch that image of an Aries drunkenly dialing the phone, and let’s look on a larger scale, what this is about? Talking when you should be listening. Running off at the mouth when a closed mouth gathers no flies. I am a Sagittarius and I can easily chew on two, size ten boots, with relative aplomb. I’m used to it. However, as an Aries, what I’m striving for here, as my part of the holiday mess and message, what we’re looking at is an increased desire to reach out and talk. What I’m suggesting, after hitting the holiday cheer? Don’t drink and dial.
Taurus: I rolled over. Day before, it was sunny, cool, in the 70s, a few clouds overhead. Nice afternoon walk in shorts and sandals. Next morning, I’m not sure what happened, but it was cold. Dropped by about 40 degrees or more. As a Taurus, local weather variations may not be identical, but you get the idea, one day you’re thinking about walking around in traditional South Texas Winter Wear, i.e., shorts and sandals and the next it’s just freezing cold. Big boy pants for me. Shoes. Boots, really. As a Taurus, my first, instinctual reaction? Feet hit the cold, cold floor, bare feet, hit the cold, cold floor? First reaction? Roll right over and go back to bed. I can do that, some days in December. I can afford to roll right back up in the covers and pretend that there is nothing that requires my outside attention. I can pretend at a lot of things. As a Taurus, though, this is a time when you can’t pretend that you can roll over. Got to hit the ground running. Walking, in my case. Need to get out there. Need to answer the cry of retail, the monster at work, something, anything. Jupiter begins a slow and laborious turn-around. Kicks something into gear. In Taurus? Feet hit that cold floor? Get up and go.
Gemini: For years and years, holidays always meant travel. That I enjoy. Travel. I like traveling. Holiday travel is more amusing since there’s an added layer of tension and frustration — ever try to explain why you’re carrying on a wrapped package that is a special gift for a special person? Or the chance of achieving that level of professional wrapping again impossible? Better yet, the indignant amateur traveler, over-wrought anguish with delays and over-worked travel people. I’m thinking mostly at the check-in at an airport. Could be any number of places, though. Are you the amateur making the non-issue into an issue, holding up the rest of us? The rules clearly stated, “no wrapped packages,” with an implied message that wrapped packages could be unwrapped and searched. Examined. I wrapped my packages one year and wasn’t surprised to find one had been opened — it was computer hardware. However, I’m used to the exigencies of travel. Which one are you? Pitching a fit because you didn’t read and agree to all the fine print? Or can you follow my stoic and philosophical outlook more closely?
Cancer: We have a rapidly approaching “situation.” The confluence of three big planets hits, coming up, like, days before Xmas. Good or bad? Depends. Can I equivocate much more? Maybe. Does this impact Cancer? Yes and no. It’s the Pluto/Sun/Moon that is approaching. Your little Cancerian Emotional Meter is going peg out in the red. Or the black, or redline. Or whatever expression it is that you choose. It’s going to hit the limit, then go way past the limit and keep on going for a while.
One set of symbolism is great. You’re going to go to “Eleven.” Arcane, rather dated joke. Talk about myth and miss. Anyway, I’ve warned you that, in the coming days, like, right around Xmas day itself, you’re going to have a mini-melt down. I’d like to help save you from getting all over-wrought with anxiety and pressure, mostly from the confluence of Pluto and the sun, along with a rolling influence from the Moon. All hits, this week. Good or bad? Depends. Depends on what level of maturity that you bring to it. Depends on how invested you get in your “feelings” getting hurt, then the reparation of the emotional rift. See what I mean with “it depends”?
Leo: The pagan underpinnings to the current celebration amuse me. The Yule Log, Yuletide, the symbolism and its roots with the Xmas tree? Pagan. Co-opted from several northern European traditions. Gift-giving and merriment? Saturnalia, again, co-opted from various other, in some cases, much older traditions. None of this is new.
As the mightiest of the fire signs, and I’m a fire sign myself, so I can easily make that statement, The Great Leo is not involved, directly, in this week’s point/counter-point, give/take, love/hate display of emotion. It is around you, it is near you, but if you stop, pause long enough to figure it out, this raw emotional upheaval doesn’t get to you. It is purely tangential. Means, at best, it’s a glancing blow to the Leo ego. At best.
Because of the holiday spirit, you’re going to want to blow this out of proportion. Not worth it. Really. Look at the historical precedents I cited, and think quietly to your majestic Leo self, “Do I really want to get all offended over this?” The answer is plain and simple: no. It is a time to enjoy the holiday spirit without getting caught up in the details. You’re THE Leo. Leave the details for another sign, better equipped for the trivial stuff.
Virgo: One Virgo buddy is caught up in the Mars thing. “It’s the ‘end of the world,’ don’t you know?” The year’s end is around the corner. By my count a little less than ten days away. Doubt it is the end of the world. I’d like to only recite this once, but I’m sure I’ll do this routine a number of times, Harmonic Convergence, the great Uranus/Neptune Conjunction, Pluto into Sagittarius, Y2K, that last one, Y2K? Remember? We’re still here.
2012? Not that much to worry about, well, as long as one is at peace with one’s maker. History tells us that mankind is willing to think the worst, every time around. Do I even have to tell that to a Virgo? Apparently you need to be reminded. What I’m doing. This is not test. This not the end of the world as we know. This is merely another Xmas holiday with all its trapping and traditions. Worry about it? Of course you will! You’re a Virgo! You worry about all kinds of stuff we have no control over. The end is near! Wait, did you hear that? Sounded like a bump? Think there was someone out to get you? Wait, there might be. No, really, it’s just Mars.
Libra: Did you know Dolly Parton cut a version of the legendary “Stairway to Heaven?” That ranks up there Texas Honky-Tonk icon, Kevin Fowler’s version of Queen’s staple, “Fat Bottomed Girls.” Or one of the tunes that started it all, originally, an unnamed cut on the CD, Prince’s “Purple Rain” by the old Austin Derailers. Each song is a rock-specific tune, and each song was re-interpreted in a singular fashion. Cover songs, in effect, but going in a new totally different direction than expected. Or what one would expect. Each tune, in its own right is a staple of a genre of rock. Each tune, has its place in the pantheon of great rock music. To hear a country singer, or a Texas Honky-Tonk bawler, or a Buck Owens group do such a staple, can, be, at one point, upsetting.
It’s the minutes, hours, days before the big holiday. Xmas in the Western Tradition. As a Libra, you feel last-minute pressure. How you choose to react, that’s your measure of skill that you bring to the table. The musical suggestions were cover songs, rock anthem, Classic Rock standards, rock opera, all good stuff. The alternative renditions are classic in their own rights. The last-minute pressure has been bearable so far, but this week it just starts to build. A viable solution is moving out of the (Libra) box. Like honky-tonk versions of rock anthems.
Scorpio: It was at a trailer in South Austin, not an Airstream, just a dining trailer, in South Austin, under a very balmy December night. Background noise was traffic, as befits the ambiance of such a place. In South Austin, just set up shop in an Airstream seemed the way to guarantee success. This place, they are part Cajun, part Italian, and it was the Taurus wife running the show, that night.
PoBoy half friend shrimp, half fried oysters, New Orleans style. Good. It was very, very good. The sauce was zesty with just enough zing to make a statement without overpowering the flavors. Watching, though, is what this is all about. I watched as she de-veined the shrimp, right there. Breaded the oysters by hand. Skewered the shrimp and dusted them with blackening powder. All done by hand.
It was not fast food. Although done in a trailer in South Austin, it wasn’t fast, or, for that matter, all that convenient. It was good. Probably great. The long story, her husband trained with one of the greats in Louisiana cooking, then they found Austin, and they didn’t want to leave, so the rest is history. The part that I was thinking about, in respect to Scorpio? Every step was done fresh, on the spot, no short cuts.
Takes longer. Tastes better. No shortcuts.
Sagittarius: Feng Shui for trailers is ticklish, at best. While there’s a comic piece of writing about that, I never found any place that really addressed the issue of the ancient art of Feng Shui and trailer parks. Or (allegedly) mobile dwelling units.
I joked about it once, as there was always the option, instead of rearranging the furniture, it would be possible to just orient the trailer on a new axis, to improve the Wood/Metal/Boar energy in a more conducive manner. With what’s going on? Consider a little bit of a household overhaul. The whole trailer doesn’t have to be reoriented in a totally new way, but a gentle change, that might help the Chi, never can tell. There’s a simple adjustment, at home, makes a big difference with a small change.