Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 10.9

    “In nature there’s no blemish but the mind;
    None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind.”
    — Sir Andrew in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night Act 3, Scene 4

Horoscopes, the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 10.9.2014 by Kramer Wetzel

LibraLibra: There’s a distinct, palpable change underfoot. As a Libra, you can’t not feel it as this occurs. Birthdays are good, and this isn’t a big problem, but as Mercury slides backwards into Libra, with Mars marching forward in Sagittarius, there’s a hint, a feeling, and more than one suggestion that things are difficult and only getting more so. It’s not true. “Ok, smart guy, you come over here and do my work!” I have no snappy retort for Libra, but I do want to point out between M & M? Mercury and Mars? There’s friction and energy, and instead of trying to push the door open? Read what the handle says, “Pull.” Makes sense, and works easier.

Scorpio: Big flood, terrible rain. Good rain, but lots of water. I was chatting with a nice guy who makes me coffee some mornings, “Yeah, I live off New Braunfels — every time it rains — I’m not sure if I can get home. They built a street in a dry creek bed. What were they thinking?” The conversation continued, and for those who are not familiar with the idiosyncrasies of San Antonio and rain?

“New Braunfels,” as a street, floods dramatically with the slightest provocation, i.e., rain. Don’t even need rain, just the hint of rain, and the street seems to flood. As a Scorpio, I have no idea how you’re getting home tonight. There is the usual impediment. Not unlike my little buddy, though, I’ll bet you know the other way around. Might be a bit longer, but you can avoid the usual Mercury mishaps. Some days, the long way is the short way home.

Sagittarius: Many years ago, “throbbies” were the rage on web pages. A “throbby” was usually an animated button or link, and I even I built them into web pages. Run a mouse/pointer over the button and the button on the page would light up, or appear to glow, grow larger, change colors, mutate. It used to be a simple bit of code with interlaced graphic files served up to perform the throbbing effects. I’ve found simpler is better. I shy away from effects like that, now, and tend eschew complexity. I was thinking about those throbbies because I happened across a site with the animated row. I got stuck, for a few moments, sliding the mouse up and down, watching the animation. Between the throwback with Mercury in Retrograde, and Mars? Old-school, bright, shiny objects can capture attention, and that can be a distraction.

“Wow, look at that!”

Capricorn: “BOO!”

Scared you, didn’t it? You seem a little more skittish than usual. A little jumpy? Almost like you’re scared of your own shadow? Look over your shoulder, see what I mean? Sage advice, besides the usual “Mercury is Retrograde” platitudes? Just because you’re more paranoid than usual? It’s a function of Mars, more than anything else, but just because you’re paranoid? That doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.

A little paranoia, or even just “pre-Halloween jitters” goes a long way to making you feel better.

Aquarius: Mercury Retrograde can bring out the worst in bad people. New lows for low-life’s. While I subscribe to a theory that we are here to help each other and obtain our highest good, as Mercury marches backwards, there’s going to be occasions where we’ll really get to experience the worst of human behavior, especially in this next Aquarius week. Best of the best, worst of the worst, all that humanity has to offer, dumped on Aquarius.

“I can’t take it any more!”

Oh but you can, as the strongest of the Air Signs, you can take it. What this is all about. I would suggest, though, stepping out of the analytical side, other than to build in allowances for “plans” to go “not as planned.” Plan for contingencies. Schedule yourself — and others — wiggle room.

Pisces: I’ve never been able to figure out who invented the “hard-shell taco.” The taco shell? The crispy taco shell? The corn tortilla, fried in a half-shell, clam-shell way, clam-shell style? As I started to research Pisces, I kept thinking about the now-ubiquitous “taco shell,” I kept wondering who invented that version. I’ve looked, in depth, at some indigenous food — the tamale — for example. There’s archeological records that indicate that type of food preparation dates back 5,000 years to south and Central America. With all that’s going on? Who did invent the taco shell? Not the soft taco, flatbread wrapped or folded over a piquant simmering food product, but the hard shell taco. Who invented that? Neptune, in Pisces, and the Full Moon, earlier this week?

Aries: “Fixin’ to” is local slang. I think it’s local, maybe folks in other parts of the world have heard it, too. What I hear, and I’m used to it, “I’m fixin’ to (insert infinitive verb).” There’s a relativistic sentiment that is associated with the local term, “Fixin’ to,” as in, it could mean immediately, in the next five minutes, maybe the next five hours or even the next five weeks. Maybe months or even years. Factors that weigh in, desirability, function, form, duration, onerous notion associated with the infinitive verb form, and then it gets harder to calculate. As an Aries, you’re “fixin’ to” do something. Couple of projects and there’s at least one of them needs to be completed before the end of the week. With Mercury where he is? “Fixin’ to finish that thang,” is the best expression.

Taurus: Floating on some website someplace, there’s a picture of me in a black blazer, tipping a cowboy hat at the nice woman taking the picture. I’m in front of the old Apple Genius Bar, in London (UK). Perhaps one of the nicer Apple-branded stores I’ve ever been in. Huge space in a city where every square centimeter of real estate is pricey. The cowboy hat always brought up questions, and the most common, “Do you ride a horse to work?”

Seriously.

Toyota started making trucks in Texas because it made economic sense. We have cars, trucks, vehicles of all sizes from smart cars to behemoth “Monster Trucks.” Riding a horse to work?

Seriously?

Certain myths prevail. That’s one. Conversely, I do have clients who ride horses as work, but that’s different. Myths, what myth is prevailing in Taurus at the moments, and all you can think?

“Seriously?”

Gemini: Some days, you just need to be heard. Some days, as the effervescent Gemini that you are, you just need to be heard, as in, folks just need to acknowledge that they received the messages you’ve broadcast out on the Gemini airwaves. Tweet, post, email, text, call, talk, left a note, whatever it was? You just need to know that the message was received. For years, I had a small attachment in my email signature file that — theoretically — could be tracked and traced. In theory. Took too much work to track down the stats on it, but supposedly I could. I don’t use that anymore, as I don’t have time/can’t be bothered. You get the message or you don’t. If you do get the message, I tend to get a reply. Here’s the deal: no one seems to be acknowledging receipt of the “oh so very important” Gemini message. I’ll send a two word, maybe a single word, reply, like “Thanks!” Or, “Got it!” But that’s me. No one else seems to admit, much less comment upon, whatever it is you’ve got that is mission critical. I can’t change the other people, but I can let you know, this is a horrible little joke perpetrated by Mr. Mercury, your planet, and it’s going on all week. Gemini in a communication vacuum.

Cancer: There will be a series of cantankerous encounters for Cancer. Can’t stop that. I was getting a cup of coffee and the girl, normally affable, growled at me. “Grrrr.” I backed away.

I started to cross a street, and I almost stepped in front of a city vehicle that was possibly speeding. Guy honked at me, and made a gesture.

I stopped at a gas station to get a lotto ticket. Woman behind the counter was curt and decidedly unfriendly.

Three examples from my own life. I would figure once was just me, but three times in a row? It’s Mercury, it’s the Sun in Libra, and it’s the Full Moon. Pick one, two, or all three. You’re going to run into a series of upset folks over the next week. Don’t bite back, don’t react badly, and please understand, in this case? It’s them, not you. Show some compassion. Well, as much as you can.

The (mighty) Leo: Middle of October, finally, “Nice. It’s getting cooler out. Been waiting on it to cool off some.” There’s a terrifically amusing — to me — iteration of local conversation. Right now, in South Texas, the tone is, “Finally! It’s cooling off some!” What we were all waiting for, after a hot summer, right? The first (Mercury is Retrograde and Mars is in Sagittarius) prediction? Next spring, by February, folks will be saying, “Nice, it’s finally warming up!” I remember being able to swim as late November, and I can also recall freezing conditions in the same month. But this October and it’s almost pleasant outside. We all seem to want whatever it is that’s over there. The weather is an innocuous example, the local weather. “Wish it’d warm up,” or now, “wish it’d cool off some more,” then, “it’s too cold.” Or too hot. Instead of worrying about Mercury, Mars and so on? Be in the moment. It’s good, right now.

Virgo: A week ago? I think it was last week, I wandered into a familiar coffee shop, and I looked at the Virgo guy behind the counter.

“Usual?” He asked then started to pack coffee into the basket for triple cappuccino. It was Friday. I wanted something different. It’s almost cool out. Not really, but with a slight overcast tinge to the morning, low coastal clouds scudding by, felt like an ominous presence overhead.

I shook it up. I got a regular cappuccino — just two shots of espresso and small amount of foamed milk. To shake me up further, I opted for regular, whole milk. With all the fat. Just something a little different. Not too different. Similar, but not the same. As the Virgo week seems to fall off the rails? Similar but different.

“Usual?”

No, try a different concoction. Maybe just a little different. After skim milk or no milk for so long, that regular milk was a treat and tasted like heavy cream, which, in turn, made the rest of the day look better, if only for a moment.

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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