Sheer Amazement issue

Aries (3/21 – 4/19): We were wondering why this certain park is called Wilmott Gateway Park the other day.  Turns out it really is a gateway park.  Start here, and pretty soon, you'll be going to other parks.  Maybe even national parks, if you can stand all that government involvement in your life.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I had to fill out a form at work the other day, and the guy who took the information, whom I've known for about 10 years, asked my middle initial, so I turned the question around because I'm on a kick of using the most boring conversation starters ever.  Where could that possibly go, I thought to myself.  But he says, "well, all I got was a middle initial. I didn't even get a name."

I questioned him about that, because seriously?  Besides the obvious, like what kind of lazy-ass parents do that, there's the math of it all.  How does something become the middle when there's nothing in front of it? An open-faced sandwich is not a sandwich, people!

He explained that he was actually named something like Addison, after his father's friend named Greg, but he just went by the letter "T" until he was much older.  Got that?   Let's go over it one more time.  He actually did get a name, Addison, although I know him by Dennison.  But he was told that he was named after Leonard.  I think the oddest part besides all of it is that he calls that just getting the middle initial, "T", which he went by for many years.  The point, dear friends, is this:  even the most boring conversation started can get you somewhere.  Test drive that thought this week.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): The ladies on Slate's Double X podcast were talking about the need for better PR for the IUD, because although it's the safest, most reliable form of birth control, only 5 percent of women use it.  Freaky.  Why would that be?  Oh, wait, I have an idea:  could it possibly be because women get a little nervous about a piece of coiled copper being (painfully) inserted into their uterus that prevents pregnancy through unknown mysteries related to a mild irritation of the uterus?  That could have something to do with it.  As Jessie said, "Science fiction going on in my vagina?  No thank you."  Who made that up, by the way?  "I've got an idea.  Just relax, it should only hurt for a minute, I'm just gonna stick this piece of metal in there. . . Anyway, this week won't even hurt for a minute, Gemini.  You're golden.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21: Should we laugh or cry about this, Cancer?  According to a Baylor University study, reported all over the internet, "About one in five Americans combine a view of God as actively engaged in daily workings of the world with an economic conservative view that opposes government regulation and champions the free market as a matter of faith."  Really?  I hope rapture really happens this time.  

Leo (7/23 – 8/22): So many amazing things about this, Leo.  First, 50-year-old bride in white.  Then she gets arrested for identity theft during her own wedding.  Could that picture represent a stolen identity?  Anything is possible, is the point. Step out of your comfort zone just a little bit this week.  Please don't wear that dress though. Enough is enough.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22)
:  The rant I posted on my blog last week got attention from Random People, which was fun and heady for a few days, especially because no one said anything unkind.  The disagree-ers quietly went about their disagreeing, and the only even slightly critical thing that came my way was a fond reproach from my uncle wondering if I really needed to use the f word to make my point.  Now my hit counter can relax again -- it’s back to the usual, “hmm, not very many hits  -- is Todd on vacation again?  Did PC oversleep?"  This is gonna be a grand week for you hard working Virgos.  

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  In an effort to simplify, I've kept it down to just having Yard Pets.  The bunny that lives out there is named Jeffrey, and there's a deer who doesn't want her name revealed in this blog, and so on.  They feed themselves, and if I go away for a day or two, I just mention it, but I don't need to make arrangements.  When they're injured or sick, I suppose they just talk to the other animals about it.  They never come whining to me.  Libra, let's see what else we can do this way -- having more self-sufficient nouns in our lives that hang out in the yard.  Dishes?  Bills?  (Is this the thinking that got Appalachia started?)

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  They say that in every relationship, there's a reacher and a settler.  The problem arises when the reacher thinks they're the settler, and they get all condescendingly apologetic, explaining that they have to move along.  On behalf of Scorpios everywhere, I'd just like to say, you people are the settlers, and the reach was so high that the reacher didn't even realize what was going on.  Maddening, but far better to be the gracious settler than the condescending reacher who mistakenly believes him/herself to be the settler.  If you followed that, scroll back and read the Taurus horoscope.  (Is this turning into one of those, "choose your own adventure" horoscopes?)

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  People are going nuts over the changes to FB, have you noticed?  I think it's just one more way for us to express our fear of death, but that's just what I think.  Other people think it's because FB was perfect before, just the way they wanted it, and now it's different.  Stuff happens, Sag.  Get used to it, be a friend of change, and fo' sho' don't get caught up in a bunch of first world problems. 

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): R. was talking about the kind of teacher who, when you ask a legit question, says, "Why don't you tell me what you think?"  "Mom, are you familiar with just what kind of rage goes on when you get that answer?"  I think I know what he means, Cap.  Just give out the answers this week.  Don't make us work so hard.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18): Speaking of working hard, I would like to mention one other thing.  R. was sitting on the couch begging me to walk out to his car to retrieve his backpack so he could do his homework.  When I declined, he got all, "wow Mom, I'm not even gonna call you if I get addicted to some really serious drug, because it's clear that I can hardly count on you for support."  Aquarius, can I count on you for support?  Just say yes already.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  Writing is so hard sometimes.  Most of the time.  It's usually like crawling naked up a steep blackberry-covered hillside on a hot day, and the blackberries aren't even ripe yet, and you don't even know why you're out there in the first place.  And you try to tell someone about it, and they just look at you like what is wrong with her?  Could this be solved, maybe there's an intervention or something. . .   But every so often, it’s not like that.  This will be that rare week, Pisces.  Go for it.


  1. In my very family is a horticulture teacher who can't be counted on to know the names of flowers we see on our hikes. I think she uses the Socratic Method in her classroom because she doesn't know the answers herself. That might have been S's whole point.

    And elsewhere in my very family: my sister's middle name is V . It was short for Valentine. Valentine was her mother's name. Her mother hit the road and Dad flung her name out after her with the suitcase, I guess.

  2. New here and infatuated. Be on the lookout for a Double Aries, Moon in Virgo.

  3. Interesting, Murr. PC, I've suspected as much! And Nance, thanks for reading. I see you're a UU. Me too!


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