Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Balloons and the Ancestors Redo

Sophie died in a fiery balloon accident

Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  I found myself listening to a podcast about the history of Sophie Blanchard, the balloonist.  (I know.  Who cares?)  I care!  She was the Chief Air Minister of ballooning under Napoleon, maybe the first woman air minister of ballooning ever, and she drew up plans for a balloon invasion, and died a terrible death while lighting fireworks from her balloon.  Aries, see if you can get people to call you Chief Air Minister of Ballooning, and then live up to the title.  The point is: there's hardly anything that doesn't interest me.  So why is so much conversation boring? Do what you can to stop this!  All week long.  And listen to This American Life episode about the 7 things not to talk about.  She's totally right.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I went to a hearing last week, something I would have scoffed at when I was an idealistic 20 year old, but here I am, not 20, not idealistic, making money where I can.  I had to put actual pants on, not yoga pants or jeans, and I couldn't actually remember the last time that happened.  2009, maybe?  But that's the kind of people we are, Taurus.  We show up with pants on when the situation demands.  Keep it up.  (And if you know anyone who needs a good pants-wearing consultant, bring 'em on.)

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): I read on the internets that 10,000 pieces of space dust fall on your car each day.  I haven't washed my car in about a year because I'm collecting all of that dust so I can create a small planet eventually.  People laugh, but they won't be laughing so much when I'm driving down the freeway with a small homemade star oribiting around my vehicle.  Gemini, you're like you're own planet, with your own weather system and so on.  Come orbiting with me this week!

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21): I've been wondering if I should make little icons for each sign.  What do you think, Cancer?  There are the normal ones:  twins and crabs and so on.  But perhaps everyone could get their own thing?  Like graffiti, or a pollinator, or quite possibly a fossil from a different era?  Cancer, your week will feel not unlike the fossils feel like when they're unearthed from another era.  Breathe and be here.  

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  I got new glasses this week because since my regular ones melted in the car last summer, I've been wearing old ones that my daughter unearthed from her glove box.  Maybe 3 rx's ago?  The glasses guy (who I have a secret thing for -- oops, I guess that's not a secret any more) told me I can pull off "geek" and hooked me up with some very nerdly glasses.  I'm having a bit of buyers remorse, not for the reasons you'd think (they make me  look like a cross between a bug, a librarian, and Ira Glass).  I'm okay with that.  But more because the sharp vision is alarming.  There's so much to see, and some if it is so far away, but I can still see it!  So much detail out there.  How do people make sense of it all?  Leo, keep the focus close to home, or better yet, close to the nose.  Things within about 12 inches of the nose, yes!

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I was looking around on Amazon the other day and noticed that you can buy all manner of things that seem unlikely, like the electrical stimulation device that they use at the PT, with an accupuncture extension.  Yes, that's right.  The helpful instructions say, "don't pierce accupuncture points in your chest or skull".  I'm tempted, Virgo.  I could open up a little storefront here, an artisinal accupuncture studio.  What do you think?  (If we have electricity, which is sketchy at this time of year.) But back to you, Virgo.  This week, you'll feel like woke up from a nap a cross between groggy and refreshed, but also feeling like maybe you should do some laundry, a handstand, run for office, memorize the Dewey Decimal System, and learn the word for when people accidentally spit on you when they're talking (gleek).  Overall, it will be a great week.  Bring snacks.  

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I was shopping for a pillow on amazon the other day, not for me, and a question came to mind:  Does it seem weird that online stores combine health and beauty into one category?  Is that because sorting is complicated?  Here's a quiz:

diabetic test strips:  health or beauty?
mascara:  health or beauty?
bondage gear [I'm not making this up!]:  health or beauty?

Anyway, Libra, back to the pillow.  Did you know there are 489,000 pillows for sale on Amazon?  All new.  Does that freak you out?  Where are they all now?  Even if there's only one of every kind, that's 44 acres of pillow!*  Is that what's going on in Area 51?  Filled with fluff? If we stretched all the new pillows end to end, we could build a [flimsy] bridge to mars, but it would be a lovely symbol of pillow diversity for people everywhere to model their lives after.  All manner of filling:  organic, memory foam, faux down, touching seams all the way to the red planet.  Your week will involve the red planet too. That's all I'm saying.

But even more remarkable than all of the pillows is this: there are thousands of reviews for each pillow.  Who are those people?  Writing reviews of pillows?  Libra, try not to worry about all the other pillows.  Keep your eyes on your own pillow.  Ok, put your pencil down.
Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  I was in a Starbucks recently (I know.) and see that they sell a device for taking credit cards with your phone.  "I'd like a dry short cappucino, a cookie, and I guess I'll open a small business."  The weird thing is, I considered it for a minute.   I'll have a madeleine, an extra-hot latte, and the ability to accept credit cards, please."  Scorpio, be wary of the impulse buy.  And think about the cardinal locations:  north, south, the internet, the coffee shop, the yoga studio.  That's all you need.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): Speaking of madeleines, do you think that the only reason people eat them is to be ironic and fake-literary?  Because really, wouldn't everyone rather have a chocolate chip cookie, given the choice?  Like, "I eat only madeline's because I read Proust and I know why they're important."  Does everyone already know how to prounounce Proust?  Is it just me who says it wrong?  Sag, eat the cookie you really want this week.
The path of the salamander

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): I found this little salamander in the middle of many yards of pavement.  I carried him to the nearest big non-paved area, which was the lawn of a YMCA.  It's been about a week, and I keep thinking about it.  How did it get there? How did it feel about the ride?  (I'm guessing a little anxious, given all the defacation that occurred.)  It always boils down to that same question:  why did the salamander cross the road?  Free will!  That's why.  Exercise free will if you have any, Cap.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):   The salt is done, 4 cups, and it feels as satsifying (almost) as splitting wood and having it neatly stacked but without so much back pain.  

Speaking of salt, I was sweating the other day in yoga and noticed that I smelled just like my grandfather used to.  (When he was alive.  Not like he probably smells now.)  That might sound creepy, but it was good and got started me on the whole madeleine/ "In Search of Lost Time" train of thought.  I mentioned it to a lovely yogini, who said, "Really?  The ancestors are coming out of your armpits?"  The amazing thing is she said it without (much) disgust.  Yep.  That's how it goes down sometimes.  Try not to judge.  

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20) If you are a Pisces that I borrowed pants from, well, I wore them to booty call yesterday and got actual comments, I won't say what they were but I might not give them back.  You'll know eventually, I guess.  :-)   I think they're like the magic brave love pants that I had the occasion to see in a painting recently.  The point of the Brave Love Pants is this:  We put the pants on and are vulnerable every freakin' day, loving our people as much as we can, way more than we thought possible.  Taking risks, taking walks, taking pills, taking naps, taking attendance, and above all, taking it all in.  And that's what it's all about, Pisces

*(area of pillow x 489K/43560)


  1. Betsy!!! I care too! Loved the Aries horoscope, I now want to know more about balloon lady and could talk your ear off about mapped the ocean floor gal. And your own planet? Gemini cracked me up! I've been all about NASA and the Hubble and the movie Gravity and Carl Sagan all week and just yes. And I love the idea of little icons. I have about 100 Gig of photos if you need any :) And I'm having a Leo week, marveling at everything I see. Excellent vision is awesome in nature, not so much inside if you're a crummy housekeeper like me. And Virgo? I just bought a home stim unit, sans accupuncture attachment, just this week. Synchronicity? And Libra? If you find the right pillow, please let me know. My neck is killing me and the pillow is an accomplice. I've tried too many to recount. And Sag.? I don't know how to pronounce Proust either, but I will confess to loving madelines and shortbreads and all things buttery and sugary. And Capricorn? I wish I only took my salamander for a trip across the concrete instead of keeping it in a terrarium in my house, which caused the ripple effect of buying a wriggling bucket of worms from uncle jims worm farm and then getting the creepy crawlies from the worms. But I digress. Your salamander google earth trip map made me happier than you can know. And Aquarius? I don't smell like the ancestors, but this morning I laughed and heard my mom's laugh, exactly, and wondered how and when that happened. And my mom is an aquarian, and it just freaked me out, all this synchronicity and coincidence in one post. And, of course, the salt is amazing! Lastly, I wish I were the Pisces you borrowed the pants from, because that means we would have already met.

    ps is it ok to comment this much to one post? Is it even normal?

    1. Oh, it's so lovely to hear all of your thoughts. I don't know whether it's normal, but that's rather irrelevant. Let me know how the electrical stim thing works. I'm pretty curious. (Does it seem weird that you can just buy that?) The pillow is a gift for someone; I don't know how to pick a pillow. But after many years I learned that I like soft pillows. I've learned that it's pronounced "Proost". In case you have occasion to say it.

      Thank you for reading. It's lovely that you take the time to comment THIS MUCH!

  2. I need new glasses so badly. MIne are not only scratched and dented, they are not up to my visual deficiencies. As a Leo, I can attest that you were right on with my forecast or whatever-you-call it. I MUST go see the eye doctor. If only I had one that was cute. Damn.

    1. Oh, yes! Keep everything within 12 inches. And take to your bed if you must! I hope you don't get what the boys had.

  3. Good morning! I found you through Ms. Moon, and I've been reading you from the beginning. I love that bloggers have archives.
    As for the icons, well as a "crabby" Cancer, I would like for once to have an icon that does NOT describe me so well! (put that together with cancer and 69, and I really feel like it's quite the unlikely trio–past, present, future?) OK, that's depressing. Please work on it!!

  4. Aww, thanks for reading the whole damn thing! And yes, I'll work on the icons. It seems like they need some sort of a theme though -- suggestions are welcome. Alchemy? Fossils?
    Anyway, thanks for your note!

    1. I'd suggest "pie" except that would mark me forever as a shallow person.

  5. Mine is the one about pants. Substitute "skirt" and it fits to a tee. I already wear the good pants whenever I go out. That started about five years ago because I couldn't find any other kind of pants that looked good and prepared me for every possible situation. Except yoga. But I've never done yoga and I never plan to, so I wasn't worrying about that. Anyhow, I always feel prepared now. And actually comfortable. Who'd have thought?

    1. I have this sweet image of you being all canadian and dressed in nice pants and a plaid scarf, and being INTERESTING when you go out, not bleeding to death on a sword. But I wouldn't give up on the possibility of yoga. You might be out somewhere, say at a bank, and there's a hijacking (does that happen at banks?) and everyone is ordered to take Astavakrasana, but your pants are too tight! It's what I'm prepping for....
      Thanks, as always, for reading! I hope life is good in NS.

    2. Okay, now I"M laughing, Betsy. I think the truth is that I wear nice pants but I'm doing the sword thing inside; I'm like two people in one :) But you're probably right about the yoga, because I don't even know what Astavakrasana IS, for cripes' sake, and I'd be the first one shot/punched/put in the corner - however, I have problems just getting up off the floor after brushing my cats, so I'm thinking yoga might just be one long struggle leading to an early death anyhow ...