Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Horoscopes and the Art of Womanliness

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  A friend has been promoting The Art of Manliness website, and it's caused me to consider womanliness, which has a pretty big branding problem.  Manliness conjures someone strong and capable, a stand up guy who wouldn't stiff a waitress or lie to a friend, the kind of guy who could change a tire for you but wouldn't just assume you need help, someone who knows how to cook an omelet and comfort a child.  The guy with the trick to opening a bottle of wine with a shoelace.  (Wait, I know that trick!)  Womanliness?  I'm curious what you all think, but for me it conjures curvy and sensual.  Nothing wrong with curvy and sensual, but shouldn't it also involve integrity and being capable and strong?  Here's how I know it's not a great word:  a man would be insulted to be called womanly, but the reverse isn't quite so true.  Pisces, see what you can do.

Aries (3/21 - 4/19):  Acting on a tip, I watched the video, How to Make Small Talk With a Stranger, which didn't teach me a whole lot, but it did have a little mnemonic device (I just had to look up how to spell mnemonic.  This, apparently, is the first time I've ever written that word.  Could that be?).  Little memory devices always makes things seem solid and like there's new complicated information.  But the video essentially said to notice something about the person and comment on it.  But the video took the strategy into the ridiculous and hilarious, like, "Oh, I see you're wearing blue.  Do you like blue?" and almost, "Hey, I see you have boobs!  I like boobs!"  


Anyway, shortly after watching, I went to meet a new customer and I thought for a minute that we were IN the video.  As we stood by my car he said, "Oh, I see you have a yoga mat.  Do you do yoga?"  And, "Oh, I see you have a carhart jacket.  I have some carhart pants." And so on.  It felt so much like we were in a parody of the video that I almost said something but I wasn't sure if I should.  What's the womanly thing to do, I asked myself?  Aries, you'll have plenty of chances to small talk with strangers.  Remember the rules:  notice and comment, self reveal, and encourage sharing.



Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):   I listened to the latest 99% invisible podcast, Structural Integrity.  Go listen.  But in case you don't, here's the gist [spoiler alert!]:  The Citicorp building was built in 1977, and in 1978 a Princeton undergrad studied it for her senior thesis, and had questions about why it would stand up if a strong wind hit the corner.  Turns out it wouldn't!  The lowly student's questions of the world-famous architect caused them to secretly re-engineer the thing, drilling and reinforcing during the night while hapless employees trustingly spent their days in the building.  


Anyway, the architect spoke of it 20 years later, and referenced the anonymous student as a male, when in fact, it was a woman.  A woman who, by the way, had never been told that they took her questions seriously; she learned about it 20 years later.  She assumed she had done the math wrong, because duh, she was just a lowly undergrad and the building was standing up.  I could go off on a tiny tear right now about how infuriating the whole thing is, in so many ways, but fer crissakes these are horoscopes, people, not rants.  Taurus, be wary of the corner winds this week.  They'll knock you down.  

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  Ok, just a tiny bit of the infuriating tear.  The architect was lauded for his humility, in bothering to listen to an undergrad, and acting on it, and telling the story.  Right?  Apparently its an extra special grand trait if a person listens to someone with less education than himself?  The woman who asked the questions wasn't called a hero, even though her questions potentially saved thousands of lives.  I think saving lives is so very womanly. Gemini, continue to save lives, the way you do.  Every single day.

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21)
:  
So, speaking of womanliness, the 6 pounds of honeybees (22,000 ish) bees just arrived.  It's been a while since I had bees, and I'm indescribably excited about it, because bees are fascinating, and dare I say, womanly?  It's all girls who make the honey, in case you didn't know that.  But I ordered a bee suit from the internet because I wanted one that fit, not some big zoomy floppy thing that makes me even more uncoordinated than usual.  Eventually it arrived, and sheesh, it has a little embroidered bee on the ass.  Right?  GRRR.  Does womanly always involve a bee on the ass?  Is that what girls really want?  Cancer keep the bees off your ass in all the usual ways.  

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Every day, Leo, it's breathe breathe breathe.  All day long. Cool or tedius?  COOL! It's what connects us with all the other breathers on the planet.  Be sure to exhale at least as much as you inhale, Leo.


Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I have a customer who owes me a bunch of money, and everytime I send him a bill, he replies with a medical and financial dossier on himself and his family.  The brother in law was misdiagnosed, the wife and her surgery, and so on.  I gather it's offered by way of explanation for why he isn't ever going to pay, but each month I look forward to our little exchange.  I almost said womanly little exchange, because sometimes there's stuff about breasts in it, but sheesh, do you see what I mean?  Not paying is NOT WOMANLY.  Woman up this week, Virgo.  


Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  Sometimes I scan the horizon, looking for signs of hope, and it stretches out flat as far as I can see.  Sometimes there are situations and people in our lives that, at the very same time, both create and dash hope.  But maybe, Libra, the fact of the horizon itself is the hope.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  If I had to pick a super power, I used to always select invisibility.  (I know, that's the creepy one.)  But when I really stop to think about it, the superpower I really want is the ability to swap perspectives with people, get into their heads, see how it feels to be them, see if I can understand things better.  Scopio, you're pretty good at that naturally.  Keep it up!


Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): I'm spending a lot of time trying to learn more about bees -- reading books and listening to bee podcasts and so on.  And I've noticed this one thing.  (Well, lots of things, the most obvious being some podcasts are just lame.  But that's not your horoscope.)  It's this other thing about metaphors.  People come up with a metaphor for something, and then act like it's relevant.  Example:  the question I was trying to understand is: when is the best time to add more boxes and frames to the top of the hive?  There are a billion different opinions. So one video I watched showed an experiment with fleas.  When put in a glass jar with a top on it, they jump to hit the top once, and never jump that high again.  When put in a topless glass jar, (I used the word "topless" to get more hits to this blog, btw.) they will jump higher.  This, the video claims, proves that you should add extra hive boxes before they are needed.  Huh?  Different species, different goals, different everything.  Sag, never confuse yourself with a flea circus.  You're so much better than that.  

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Ever since the little thing that allows me to play my iPod in the car broke, I'd have to say, my quality of life has dropped down a tiny bit, and it's made me think about how lame radio is.  I want to be able to turn on the radio and hear things that interest me, like breakthroughs in poetry and paleontology, and weird coincidences that people have had, and I want someone to explain quantum entanglement in a way that I can apply in my own life, and of course, I want good music that i've never heard before, and I don't want sports to even be mentioned unless there's a seriously relevant human interest angle, and I want the suffering in the world told in broad brush strokes, because I already get it.  I know that people are starving and being murdered and drowning in water and mud and manipulating systems for their own benefit; I can't keep hearing about it in such gruesome detail. Is that really so much to ask, Cap?


Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  The bees only live for a few weeks, and they work hard (well, the womanly bees do) every single day until they die.  BUT, they do change jobs.  There's room for advancement, and the highest job of all, the culmination of a bee life, is the field bee.  She gets out of the hive and visits flowers all day every day.  Well, for like, 5 days maybe.  It's such a womanly heirarchy, Aquarius.  Out of the office and into the garden.  Do that this week!  And work on rebranding Womanliness!

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Horoscopes: The taco truck edition (corrected)

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20) How about that, Pisces, you're first!  

I went to the new taco truck yesterday, and since I was at my booty call job, I was in The Man's truck.  There are a few men sitting at the picnic table, and one said, "So, you work for the County?"

"Yep."

"Oh.  It's just weird to see your trucks so far off the beaten path.  Usually I just see them on the freeway."

I was kind of happy with this conversation, because for route talk, it was way better than the usual, and I was already sort of amused. The beaten path?  


We did the 'what do you do, what do you do thing, and I learned that he delivers appliances.

"Weird coincidence.  My son has a washer and dryer," I replied.


He turned to his coworker, as if I were invisible, or at least deaf.  "Did she just say her son has a washer and dryer?"


"Yup."


He turned back to me.  "Did you just say your son has a washer and dryer?"


"Yes. He's sort of a man of means.  Or at least the means to wash some clothes."


I could tell he didn't think it was funny at all; quite possibly he thought I was not quite right in the head.  In the gentlest, most pitying way, he said, "You can have lunch with us if you need to."


(Of course I said yes.  You knew that though.)  


Pisces, in the least pitying way ever, you can totally have lunch with me if you need to, or even if you just want to.


Aries (3/21 - 4/19):  I downloaded some new podcasts, and I picked one called, The Why Generation, because truly, isn't "why" the best of the question adverbs?  So I listened to a few, and at first it seemed kind of random.  One about the hosts childhood experience with a pervy stalker, then one about Amanda Knox (sort of local, sort of timely).  And then one about Jon Benet Ramsey.  (Does she ever sleep, you may wonder about me?)  But then I get to one about Ted Bundy, and I realize that this is a true crime thing.  


Aries,  in your opinion, would listening to tales of young women being raped and murdered be a reasonable cure for  insomnia, or even a pleasant way to pass the time?   Your horoscope:  claim the question adverbs as your own.  Use them for curiousity but try not to stray into prying.  


Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  Meanwhile, back at the taco truck, my buddy looks up at the sky.

"So, what do you think about the contrails?, he asked.

(By the way, I'm quite pleased that already, we're on some weird topic and no one has even taken a bite of a tacos yet.)


"Hmm.  I'm not sure.  How 'bout you?"


"Well, my friends say that the government is seeding the air to help prevent asperger's and alzehimers.  I don't know about that."


"Hmm.  So you think they're just starting with the A problems, and when they have those licked, maybe they'll move on to the B's?"


"Maybe so.  I just wish they wouldn't do it.  I wish I could look up at the sky and think it was pollution."


He was dead serious, Taurus, and that's the kind of earnest joyfulness I wish for you this week.  Get to a place where pollution is the bright side, and mean it.


Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  I was at a little party the other day, and the bucket list topic came up.  One guy said that he doesn't have a bucket list; as soon as he thinks of something for it, he just does it.


"So, what are some of the things that you've done?" I asked.


"Well, one thing is I learned to fly."


"That's so cool! Can you do a demo for us?  Just fly around the room a little?"


"Oh, I learned to fly an airplane," he clarified.


I can hardly begin to describe my disappointment.  I'm still not over it, in fact.  But Gemini, you people actually can fly.  I've seen it!  Keep it up.


Cancer (6/22 – 7/21):  I was on a walk in the woods behind my house yesterday, and as I've mentioned, it's a weird sketchy vortex and although there are millions of signs of humans, many in the form of shotgun shells and budweiser cans, I hardly ever see any people.  But I was walking up the hill, and it was getting close to dusk, and I heard the very distinctive sound of someone digging a hole.  I stealthily crept a little closer, and could see a guy in the woods, about 100 feet off the trail, digging.  I hid behind a bush for a while, watching, but I was too far away to really see him, or what he was doing 

But I thought it out.  There are two reasons to dig a hole:  excavate, or bury.  What do people excavate?  Valuable minerals, or things they buried in the past (for example, if one were to rob a bank and bury the loot, they might return to exhume it after they break out of jail.)  I'm pretty sure there aren't valuable minerals here.


What they bury is things they revere (like pets), or things they don't want anyone to know about (like murder victims.  I learned about murder victim burying in my all night true-crime podcast extravaganza, in case you're wondering how I know so much.


I sat crouched in the woods for a while with no plan, and then after a bit, got up and walked home, because I couldn't really think of anything else to do.  I'll go back today or tomorrow and maybe dig up whatever it was, and hopefully I won't get implicated in a crime.
Cancer, is "why" your favorite adverb too?  If so, come with me on this expedition!  I may need an alibi or at least a witness.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  I asked another person at the party what was on her bucket list, and she said skydiving.  That's the most cliched bucket list item ever, but it also made me realize why I don't have one.  To be on a bucket list, the thing has to be something you could die doing.  It turns out I'm not that interested in doing that stuff.  My bucket list involves dying quietly in my sleep before it's too late. Leo, you can be a hero without a bucket list.  You can even be a hero without a bucket, but get one, because we might need it for crabbing this summer.  


Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I was in the field yesterday, and some customer wanted to tag along, which used to be fine but now that I listen to true crime at night, it has the potential to be creepy.  Anyway, we're crashing through the bushes, and he falls down, or maybe he sits down, and says, "OH, my hip, my hip."  [Do you remember that crutches thing that Bundy did?]  And I sit there for a minute with him until he can get up, and he does and we walk back to my car but I'm just thinking what a weird life it is, the kind of thing where one minute, you're talking contrails with a guy at a taco truck, and the next minute, you're sitting in the woods with a stranger with arthritis of the hip, and then, I dunno, one thing to the next.  Is that good?  Is there any continuity, Virgo?


Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I'm eagerly awaiting this book, which should arrive in the mail any minute now.  If anyone else wants to read it, we can have a tiny little book club.  It's written by a brilliant, hilarious, and remarkable friend, the kind of person who only comes along once in a long while, and her writing is exquisite.  I hope you all buy it.


Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  Speaking of digging things up, it did occur to me that maybe that guy in the woods had some sort of vision, like the lady who got a feeling about where Richard III was, and dug up a parking lot to find him.  More than 500 years after he died.  Maybe that's what was going on in the woods, Scorpio?  


Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  R. has asked me to draw a bee that he and his sister M. can get as tattoos.  "Why a bee?"

  
"Well," he said, "we're hard working, community minded, and make sweetness out of whatever we get handed."

That seems to be absolutely true.  Sag, continue to make the sweetness whereever you go.



Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  I was at an art class last week, and the teacher asked, "what makes us women, and different from men?".  I wanted to raise my hand and say, "Oh, OH, I know!  We have vaginas, commit fewer murders, make less money, and report significantly less happiness than men. Can we go make art now?"  But it wasn't that kind of thing, we were supposed to get in touch with the ancestors, and listen to one another's thoughts on womanhood, ponder the women who came before us, and talk about how our needs are really never met because of our caretaking instincts, and it went on and on and on until I wanted to cut off my arm, because I thought that might get us moving along towards the actual painting.  After a while I stopped listening and started thinking about that guy who sawed his arm off with a swiss army knife when he got stuck in a rock.  It all served as a reminder of what an impatient human I am, and why it's a good thing that I don't carry a knife.  (Hey, interesting fact:  the present, which we're all supposed to live in, is three seconds long.)


But one of the people answered the question by saying she got tested and has a really high percent neanderthal, and she feels really kindred with her cave woman ancestry.  That was a rather unexpected answer, so just like that, I was happy again.  I didn't want to tell her that we're pretty sure the Neanderthal didn't make art, but I did seek her out to learn what her percentage was, and she had no idea.  Couldn't remember.  Grr.  Cap, find your percentage.  Bonus points if NH#>LH#, whatever that means.


Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  Speaking of caves (were we?) I just learned that 30 million people in China currently live in caves.  So there's a much higher cave man population today than there was during the stone age.  Anyway, Aquarius, step out of the metaphorical cave and into the springtime!



I'm excited to report that the author Celeste Ng has selected m y modern love essay to read for the Modern Love podcast next week. Suc...