Vague Predictions



Aries (3/21 – 4/19)
 The other night I went to Italy, or at least a cheap Italian restaurant.  More like a cafeteria, if you must know.  But we call it Italy.  Aries, the point is that you can believe you're in a newish suburban mall-like complex built on the bones of a beautiful old farm, or you can believe you're in Italy.  La scelta è la vostro.  Yeah, I used google for that too.  Take your week somewhere good.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):   I'm reading this book, and ahh, it's so good, and it makes me feel like I waste way too much time when I should be out and about with a vasculum around my neck.  This week, strap that vasculum around your neck and find stuff.  (Do you even have a vasuculum?)

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  So on our way to Italy, the young people were talking about how they went to see the King Tut exhibit, and among other interesting facts, it came out that every 15 minutes, the museum lets 40 people in, and each person pays $25 or so.  Every day of the week, every fifteen minutes since last May, 40 times 25 dollars, which, without even doing the math, you can tell is bucketloads of money.

"We should totally open a museum," I suggested.

Without missing a beat, one of the lovely young people said she had an old wooden elephant statue that would be good in a museum, and it turns out I have a wooden elephant myself.  Coincidence, or kismet?  The other young person has a very old (circa 1993) nerf gun.  It's going to be an amazing museum, and you may want to just go ahead and get a lifetime membership.  Otherwise, you'll be standing in the mob, 40 people at a time, every 15 minutes, elbow to elbow with the commoners, trying to peer over the heads of someone tall to glimpse the ancient nerf gun.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  Today I was talking to someone who was complaining about his job, how much they expect of him, work work work all day, half the weekend, and into the evenings, making software for the masses.  It reminded me of my own work, which is almost exactly like that, without all the "work work work" bit.  This week, for example, 'll meet a customer for a Happy Hour drink to talk about his project. (Is that weird, or kind of metro?  I can't tell.),  And then on another day there's a very important e-mail I must send.  It just never stops, I tell you.  Cancer, slow it down this week.  Be right here.  Put that rock down.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  I went to Seattle the other day with The Librarian, which was extremely fun and involved laughter and food and so on, but we weren't just goofing around.  We were on a mission to gather supplies to make our own shoes, and although it seems a little weird to be going from the land of the roadkill into the big city to buy leather, it turns out I'm okay with that.  Anyway, the store has every kind of skin you could imagine except dog and human.  You could make some badass shoes if you know what you're doing, which of course, I don't.  I just can't decide between being a museum curator, a cobbler, a person with a vasculum around my neck, or the kind of person who meets people for a drink to talk about their permit.  So many choices.  At any rate, I approached the lady behind the counter.  "So, we're thinking of making shoes.  Any tips?"

Long silence, followed by, "Take some old shoes that you really like," she suggested, "cut them up, and use them for a pattern."

I have a bad feeling about that, so I'm not doing it.  But, my dear Leo, what you could do is pick an old week that you really liked, cut it up, and pattern the coming week after it.  Or, you could just make a fake week out of felt and wear it for a while, which is what we'll probably end up doing with the shoes.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  Speaking of shoes, I bought some converse sneakers at Value Village a few weeks ago, and they were marked $5, which, if you're the kind who doesn't balk at buying used shoes, is a pretty good deal.  I took them up to the counter, and the cashier looked at me and said, "Do you get the Senior citizen discount?"

"Uh, no."

"Really?  It's 65.  You only have to be 65."

"Uh, no, I'm not 65."

"Or older."

"Yeah, I don't get the discount.  But thanks."

He gave me the discount anyway, and made a big point of circling it on the receipt and pointing it out to me.

Okay, sidebar: most of my life, people have assumed I'm younger than I am, like I routinely got carded when I ordered a drink into my 40's, and once when I was about 38, I gave a presentation at a professional conference, and the moderator introduced the Q & A session with, "Hey, let's help this poor kid out and come up with a few questions."  There are lots of other inconvenient discrediting things that happen when you don't look your age.  Thank god that tide has apparently turned!  But anyway, C. said he was probably just flirting with me, which brings me to the point:  If you're trying to flirt with someone, suggesting that they look like an old person who doesn't have five bucks for a pair of shoes is perhaps not the best strategy.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  Farewell to George McGovern, who was a great man.  When I was 12, my sister and I had a bake sale and mailed the $7 proceeds to his presidential campaign, and I was pretty sure it would make a difference, especially because the incumbent was under investigation for some serious shit.  That year, election day fell on the day before my sister's birthday, and I remember my sweet sister, crying as she ate her birthday breakfast, because we had no idea that he was going to lose.   Badly.  RIP, George.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  And speaking of the presidential race, really?  What is going on with these swing states?  Are there actually people who change their mind as frequently as all that?  I look at the poll history for Florida, and think sheesh.  I still don't get how people who are paying attention and planning to vote can change their mind every few days.   Most of those swing states, I think yeah, not surprising, but New Hampshire?  Really, NH?  Live free or vascilate?  You're tearing me up inside.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  So, one reason this blog isn't updated very often is that there's not a lot going on here.  As we know, there are basically two plots:  Stranger comes to town, and hero goes on a journey.  A good story does not involve, "I woke up, deliberated about whether to put on clothes for yoga or yard work, ignored the mess in my house, read for a while, sent an e-mail or two, went in the woods to look for mushrooms, blah blah blah.  I guess what I'm saying is that for the first time in my life, I have absolutely no where to be on any kind of schedule, no one expects jackshit out of me, and every single thing that happens each day is up to me, which marks the strange border between pleasure and pain.  Sag, choose pleasure every time.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Someone mentioned that my neighborhood has a posse comitatus feel to it, and I tend to agree.  But it goes along with a weird pioneer thing, maybe because we don't have running water very often.  In the past 5 days, I've made coffee out of stale tonic water twice, and each time, I go outside and there's a gush of water crossing the road and a guy with a shovel digging around.  That seems good, right?

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  I went to see this exhibit with one of my dear old friends, and I think the Suzanne Valadon odalisque is my new favorite odalisque (ousting "Olympia", by Manet from the top slot).  It makes me wish I could paint.  It's also depressing that all of these excellent artists are all crammed in to one exhibit because they have one thing in common:  vaginas.  I can't imagine a similar exhibit of men's art:  Oh, Picasso, Renoir, Toulouse-Loutrec, Singer Sargent, you each get to have one picture in our big exhibit honoring men!

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20): Pisces, I did a little research to learn what makes a good horoscope. Briefly, it involves writing general statements that can't be confirmed, putting it in the reader's lap to make stuff happen, and this last one, "Just speak your mind whatever you are feeling tell others that they are feeling the same, that way you are doing good in the world by making everyone equal." Whatever that means. So Pisces, something good is coming your way if you'll only wake up, drag yourself out of bed, put on your working shoes, and get to it. It's all up to you.

Comments

  1. I adore these predictions. Simply adore them.

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  2. That was quite the intro into politics....hope things go better this time around for you.

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    1. Yeah, if we'd had the internet, I guess we wouldn't have been so disappointed. But surely, my mother must have know, right?

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  3. I do not have a vasculum, but at least I know now what it is that I don't have ... I always learn something from your horoscopes!

    Virgo was hilarious :)

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    1. I hope you can find a vasculum to wear as you traipse around NS!

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  4. Now if I'd known
    The line up just to see him
    I'd take out all my money
    And bought me a museum!

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    1. Oh, right! Do they have any songs about old nerf gun museums? I mean REALLY old...

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  5. um i'm pretty sure my gynecologist doesn't hang her vasculum around HER neck....

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  6. the museum...the shoes...I'm in tears here!
    Thanks!

    Loving the illustrations too.

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  7. I'm an herbarium-loving, hand lens, toting botany geek. I love the vasculum references. Also i'm a Capricorn in Idaho and it sure feels like a posse comitatus attitude in my neighborhood too.

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