- “A plague on them, they ne’er come but I look to be wash’d!”
- Shakespeare’s Pericles [II.i.25-6]
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 1.29.2015
Aquarius: I’ve moved so many times, I kept living in a set of moving boxes as it was just easier. Sort of like living in a suitcase, only different but the same. I was going through an old box marked, “Wires.” It held a couple of old school “Power strips,” including one that wasn’t grounded. There was a keyboard that once figured in my horoscopes, as it was — at the time — a fancy, tactile, wired keyboard. Instead of a new computer I got a new keyboard and that helped me for a few months. Then everything changed again. There were phone line connectors, RJ-cables, and splitters. Wow, I hadn’t seen — or owned — a wired phone — in more than a few year, five? Ten years now? These are relics of an era gone by, important technology at the moment, but not so much, now. I rescued three items out of the big box of wires: an audio patch cable about six inches long, a cable TV splitter jack, and a power strip (grounded) — for the Xmas lights. Big box of dead stuff, all in the trash, now. It was downsizing, but not downsizing. Trash.
The keyboard, half a dozen years ago, held sentimental value. Time to jettison that which does not serve Aquarius.
Pisces: The Texas Gulf Coast is quickly becoming a second home to me. Beach attitude, and in one place, I finally saw a t-shirt, maybe it was a bumper sticker, one of those short lines that made perfect sense to me. Summed it all up in a single expression. “Living my life in flip-flops.”
Of course, to me, the term applies to standard-issue beach-ware, the ubiquitous sandal. These days, anymore, my flip-flops tend to be “sport sandals,” as in a thin plastic sole anchored by webbing to my foot. Tevas and Chaco are examples. Honestly, I prefer Piper Sandals, but again, this is about the spirit of the comment, not the actuality. Sandals, from a beach climate warm enough that the sandals are considered year-round attire. Appropriate and comfortable. Beach attitude.
I’ve got some clients so far north, they will never see sunlight or even beach, for at least another month. Not what this is about, it’s about an attitude. Beach attitude. Living a life that is lived in sandals. For me, I can do that about ten months out of the year, and this next month? Maybe. However, I can start thinking, acting and behaving along that more relaxed attitude. At least for Pisces, the next few days? Even if it’s not physically possible? In your mind, Mars and Venus, especially Venus bringing sharp focus to this dream? Think about arranging it so you have a life lived in flip-flops — or whatever defines your best comfort zone.
Aries: Some of our determining factors in life are genetic. I prefer to think of genetics as determined by the stars, but the outcome is the same, some factors in our life are beyond our control. Some factors in life are learned, as in, we’re programmed by our family, by our upbringing, by our education.
I’ve studied several theories, most suggest that the behaviors are set and locked before we start first grade. Finally, there are some factors in life that we adjust to as adults. Behaviors, thought patterns, mental processes, and in the case of Aries, physical processes, too. This is a chance to break free of some of that programming. However, to rewrite your own history, to unshackle yourself from the chains that bind you, to set your Aries heart free? The first part of this is recognizing the source of the pattern. Genetic? Learned (via family)? Picked it up later?
In my family, for example, one cousin asserts that fishing is clearly a recessive gene, passed from male to male, and none of the females seem to suffer with the affliction. Recognize from whence it came.
Or, to use the fishing as an example, that’s a habit I don’t want to break.
Taurus: In some cultures, a fairy tale begins with “Once upon a time…” In my circle of friends? A fairy tale begins with, “Ya’ll ain’t gonna believe this …” To spike that ball, to borrow a hackneyed sports metaphor, the local version of that fairy tale? Almost always ends with a feller nicknamed bubba, saying, “True story. No lie.” Straight face. That expression, “True story?” That is what is classically defined as “irony,” saying one thing and meaning the opposite. Only, with my buddies? When they say it? At least one of them, I know, he means it. He thinks his tall (and improbable) tale is now true.
With that one buddy, repeating a lie, over and over, that doesn’t make it true. Nice try, though. As a Taurus, though, you have to look at what is, and what is going on, and you have to ask, is this really a true story? Or am I just trying to make it true by repeating it often enough?
Gemini: With computers, it’s possible to quantify and measure every keystroke. With some of the software I’ve seen, eye movement and hand gestures are easy enough to record. The question is, do you need all that data? As a Gemini, yes, of course you need all that data. As a Mercury Person, all that data is overwhelming. I’ll relate a story to you and then, as this week unfolds, you can use the tale, adjust as need be for audience, to make your Gemini point. A “league,” especially as used by the first Spanish explorers as a measure of distance? A league was defined as how far a man — or a horse — or man on horse, or a man with horse, how far one of those could walk in an hour. My average winter pace? A league would be about three miles. Maybe a little further. Summer pace? I’ve been known to go as slow as two miles in that allotted hour. See how the measurement is totally in-exact, and quite imprecise? That’s the point. Instead of suggesting measurements in terms of inches, feet, yards, miles, or as an expression of time, like, “Austin is about an hour from here,” instead of those measurements, use “leagues.” As a totally chaotic way to measure, yet, for the Gemini mind and the way events are occurring, even now? Perfect way. Austin is ten leagues or more.
Cancer: We’re approaching an inclined plane with relatively low coefficient of friction. As a good Moon Child you realize that this is a slippery slope.
See, you get a good offer in the next few days, a reasonable solution to a problem, and it looks good, but the Cancer’s “spider senses” are tingling. Something isn’t quite right and you’re not sure what. “We’re approaching an inclined plane with a low coefficient of friction.” Borrow my phrase. Some folks don’t get it, while others, first time I heard it, I had to pause to sort out the big words, and as a Moon Child, that pause while they turn over the expression is to your benefit. At least one Cancer is going to tell me, “No, I need to know, NOW!” No, no you don’t.
The stars, planets, really, present us with a slippery slope, and while this solution looks good on the outside? Are you sure?
The (mighty) Leo: Phones now have the “airplane” mode, the “silent” mode, and the variations on themes “mode” wherein they vibrate or beep, or chime, or something, but it’s not noisy. The problem being, sometimes it’s too quiet. With the current state of the planets, most notably, Mercury in apparent retrograde motion opposite mighty Leo? Quiet. Quiet is important. Absolute silence is even better, but that’s not going to happen. Still, a little quiet goes a long way.
“I’m sorry I missed your call, I didn’t hear it ring.”
Clue. That’s the clue for now. With Mercury still opposite you and still backwards in motion? Might not be so bad if you missed that call.
Virgo: Double up at work. It’s that simple, redouble your efforts to make the job go smoothly, as smoothly as it can go when your main planet — Mercury — is in apparent retrograde motion.
This next few days will see a “work thing” seem to blow up. Go awry, fall off the rails, insert your favorite simile here. Something seems to crash and burn. “Cratered, dude. Totally cratered. No hope.”
That’s where I come in to help. There is hope and there is a way to rescue this and there is way to fix it. It requires some of that Virgo analytical ability and then, it requires — to normal people — what seems like twice as much work. It’s not really twice as much work, just seems that way. Double the efforts and reap twice the rewards with a single warning, that double reward? Double bonus points for Virgo? Twice as many frequent flyer miles, whatever the reward is? Won’t see it for a few days. Didn’t say you wouldn’t get it, just not quite as fast as we both think you should (get it).
Libra: I’m Sagittarius, and I’ve been working as an “intuitive” for many long years. I’m used to opening my mouth and being pleasantly surprised at what falls out. Same with writing, I’ll have one destination set, and off we go, in another direction. What I heard, and as a good kind of way to hang onto your Libra sanity for the next couple of days? Think of this comment, “I guess I should look before I start talking.” As I suggested, that’s never bothered me. I’ll start talking and try to steer myself in the correct way, but I’m not Libra.
The comment was worth its weight in gold, as a reminder to look before engaging the mouth. Extemporaneous commentary is wonderful, and to me, an art form unto itself. But I’m not Libra.
I can get away with this, on some occasions, but I’m not Libra. As the (usually) more balanced and better defined Libra, perhaps looking at the subject before you start talking? That might help a great deal in making the waves of this week’s planetary miasma more negotiable.
Scorpio: The tattoo itself, on a young lady’s neck, back of her back, it was a cupcake. In the scrolled ink underneath the cupcake? “Revenge is sweet.” Simple statement, and eventually, I had to find out, yes, she is Scorpio. Hi. Revenge is sweet, like that. There was a long story about boyfriend, jilted love, then the part about not extracting revenge even though a situation presented itself. She resisted the lower Scorpio impulse to “get even,” and she opted for a higher form. Revenge can be sweet. This last little Aquarius Mercury Retrograde thing will push up an opportunity to get even. I’ll agree the rat bastard deserves your full retribution. I’ll also suggest, like that cupcake tattoo reminder? Serve the higher Scorpio goal not the base one. Better, sweeter reward — eventually.
Sagittarius: Jupiter in Leo, right? I had on a pair of my “fat” jeans, a waist size too large for my current condition. One of my business associates (Scorpio) poked fun at me. Mocked me. The pants hang loose at my hips and appear to have no butt. Ask most of my friends, and yes, I can be a be butt-head, not the question whether I have one. Or not. Or am one. The ribbing and mocking seems to cut a little too close to my bone. I felt like I had my feelings “hurt.” I believe the correct expression might be “butt hurt.” All for a lack of ass in the sagging pants. This is case where I listened to someone else, and I wore their contempt like a sagging pair of britches. Part of the problem with this Mercury in his current disposition, makes for a weird time, and we get our Sagittarius feelings hurt over something that might — or might not be — a big deal.
Listen to the criticism. Maybe don’t take it all to heart. Listen, but maybe, don’t embrace, like I did, and maybe we don’t get all “butt hurt” over something that might not even be a consideration in another week.
Capricorn: Little Capricorn child. Golden hair of youth, two, maybe four, I think she was about two at the time. I was stand-in babysitting, as I do from time to time. Not a big deal. I nuked the dinner entree for her, some kind of prepackaged kiddie meal, and she toyed with her food, ate about half, offered me a piece of it, too. Taught to share. I demurred. She slid off the seat and went to the ice box. “My tummy is hot.” Big, sad kid eyes. Adults like me are hopeless in the face of those eyes. Solution, as offered by the child? “My tummy is hot,” means, translated, “ice cream.”
Clever Capricorn child. With this Mercury Retrograde still hammering the way it is? Capricorn needs a new catch phrase, and that’s one that I’m offering at the moment, “My tummy is hot.”
