It's like describing a card trick

Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  Do you sometimes feel like you're sort of out of it, tied down with responsibilities, and then suddenly, you realize, wait, I'm totally in the thick of what's happening, because there I was at the Grand Opening, for godssakes, of the new Goodwill?  Yep.  You've definitely got it going on.  This week, look forward to going on a trip across the water with your friend.  (And all those other people.)

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  Does it sound far-fetched that we're planning a manned trip to Mars?  It sometimes seems hard to sort out fact from fiction these days.   Your week will be awesome, as it should be.  Do the dishes already, make your mama proud.  (I think that I could be arrested for having Aaron Carter on my iPod, by the way.  Isn't there a certain age past which it's just creepy?)

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  Sometimes random strangers come to the door and tell you stuff, like, "hey, you should really rake the moss out of your lawn," or "have you tried Jesus?"  It's hard to see these people as helpful.  In fact, it's easy to suspect that they are part of the dog's spy network, and there's a code being passed, because that's strange, right?  Take heart.  They're there to remind us how lucky we are that we never ever have to go door to door.  Ever.  (Unless the children are selling things.)

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21): Courtney Love is a Cancer too, which you probably knew.  But did you know that with the assistance of "renewed devotion to Buddhist chant, and the assistance of several life coaches and therapists", she is getting her life back on track?  That's what the NYT says, anyway, which caused me to seek out this video.  I will just say that Courtney describes Buddhism as the most aggressive, amazing religion, where you just chant for what you want and you get it.  She's got a list of what she chants for that includes "perfect man, perfect house, stay sober...".  Sounds pretty Buddhist to me, that aggressive getting your way thing, just like the Dalai Lama.  But the rest of you Cancer's seem to have inner Buddhism that will allow you to experience great joy this week.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  I think Daniel Pinkwater will love to get your letter.  In fact, he was probably about to write to you anyway.  Enjoy this lovely spring and keep posting pretty pictures. 

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22): Oh, my imaginary Virgo friends, why do I never see you?  I don't even know what your obsession d'jour is.  Make that stop!  And your week, well, wear a hat if that makes you feel better about the bald spot.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22): This week go find that grave and try to figure out who, or what, is buried under there.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  This morning I went to the mailbox and found a book, "I Was Told There'd be Cake", which made me so very very happy, both because of the sweet surprise, and because the other book I'm trying to read is The War that Killed Achilles, which serves as a constant reminder of how tiny and insect-like my attention span is.  Your week will be excellent, and you should swing by later if you can.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): This week, you'll probably do more time traveling, but sadly, no one will really believe you because, of course, you won't appear to be gone, your work won't even suffer.  And, it all happened a long time ago anyway.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): So, here's a tip: if she gets up and leaves at 2 am saying 'you seem really distant', and you're all, 'huh?  I was asleep, what's wrong with that?'  There were probably clues before you went to sleep.  (Just a wild guess.)  This week, be curious.  Pay attention, see if you can figure it out.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  Did you know that your key planet is Uranus?  (That sounds like some coarse joke, but it's really just a fact.)  And right now, Uranus is in Pisces, which causes great difficulty through May 27.  The deal is, though, that it takes 84 of our years for Uranus to make it around the sun once, so after 5/27, you should be good for a long time. 

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  Sometimes I cheat on these horoscopes, and think, hmm, what are people interested in these days, uh, turns out I have no idea.  So I use the little google insights tool to see what people are searching for, and realize, yup, I have absolutely no knowledge of the things that everyone is researching, so I stray off and do that research, adding to the number of people searching for that stuff.  So, to put an end to the madness, I'll tell you here, Pisces, what's going on in the world, based on the top rising google searches.  (Stick it out, there will be a horoscope at the end.)

#1:  Michelle McGee is the woman, raised Amish, who became a tattooed stripper who had an affair with Jesse James, estranged husband of Sandra Bullock.  Sandra Bullock is a famous actress, I'm told.

#2:  Erykah Badu is a soul singer (kind of smooth jazz, ick), who walked to the site of JFK's assassination, stripped, sang a song, staged a fake shooting, and mimed being assassinated in front of children and other tourists.  What she said?  "John F. Kennedy was a revolutionary; he was not afraid to butt heads with America, and I was not afraid to show America my butt-naked truth." Um, okay then. 

 Um, #3 is Jesse James, but I think we've covered that, so we'll skip to #4, which is Topeka.  Yes, the capital of Kansas.  I have no idea what's going on there.  Did I miss something? My research shows that they're having an art walk, they have a huge budget deficit, and the name means, "dig good potatoes." (Fyi, Topeka is #4 rising google search nationwide, but #1 in Washington State.  Huh?  Are we still reminiscing about April Fool's Day?  Personally, I'm trying to move on, but maybe it's not that easy for everyone?)

 #5:  "Masters", which apparently refers to a golf tournament.  Golf is a pastime  involving lots of white men, white shorts, and chemically managed lawns.  The Masters Tournament is held each year in Augusta, Georgia (which doesn't seem to be getting as much attention as Topeka), and the compelling thing about it is that people stand in silence and watch other people try to hit a tiny ball into a similar-sized hole across a super-manicured lawn.  (I'm kind of on Topeka's side here, actually.)

 Does it seem sad that things like, "Pulitzer" didn't even make the top 10 this week?  But Pisces, back to you:  the point here is that there's tons of stuff out there to be interested in, so just pick something and go for it.

Jockomo feena nay*

Yesterday when I got in the car I couldn't select, from all of the things that were on my mind, which thing to think about, so instead, I started listening to the various versions of Iko Iko on my iPod, trying to decide which I like best.  It’s still a toss up between the Dixie Cups and Cyndi Lauper (!), with Dr. John a close second.

I decided to stop at a Starbucks in a place I don't usually like to stop, because I was suddenly aware of how completely unfocused I was, and thought I should be at the top of my game (if there is such a thing anymore) for a presentation to the New Boss, which would be my first real encounter with him. All of the bosses between he and I also asked to attend, either because they were nervous that I'd screw up, or (long shot) because they thought my presentation would be interesting.  At any rate, it seemed like a good idea to be clear headed, if possible, and it seemed like I should allow maximum time for the caffeine to take affect. 

The Starbucks is in a big new development that I spent months and months walking around on when it was still forested; now the trees are mostly gone, and it's populated with ugly cheap houses, and it seems like there’s no soul left at all, but I did want the coffee, so I stopped.

  Being that it wasn't yet 6 am, there was only one other customer in there, and I instantly found her really annoying.  She was just talking too much about boring stuff (I know what you're thinking.  But really, stick with me…), like, "Hmm, I think I'll have a scone today.  No, make that banana bread.  Later, I'll come back and may have a cookie."  Blah blah blah.

It kept going like that, and my first thought was, hurry it up, lady, but then I realized how ridiculous that was, and how spoiled I am, Um, yes, I want my gourmet coffee NOW.  I don't have two more minutes to wait for some lonely older woman to prattle on.  So I breathed, and stood there, and tried to decide what I was going to think about for the rest of the drive, when Angry Man entered the store.  He stood there waited for 10 seconds, noticed that Nothing Was Happening, and then did that thing of trying to make eye contact with me, like we were accomplices, joined in mutual irritation, but I was having none of it, and wouldn't look at him, and listened instead to the song in my head, which was saying "my grandma and your grandma were sittin' by the bayou…", and, without making a perceptible motion, bringing my hands to my heart center.

Angry Man waited another 2 seconds, and then said loudly, "HEY, COULD I GET SOME COFFEE?", causing Irritating Lady to turn around and notice me for the first time.  She seemed to assume we were together, and said “Wow, Lady, calm down.” I didn’t look at her either, because it just seemed to be shaping up to be one of those ‘don’t make eye contact' sort of days, and I ordered my coffee in the kindest voice I could muster.

Irritating Lady stepped over to the Dressing Up the Coffee bar, and turned to Angry Man and said, “what’s your name?”, but she said it like this: WHAT’S YOUR NAME????

And he said, like this, “ED.  MY NAME IS ED.”

And she said, “WELL ED, I JUST HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY, ED.  HAVE A GREAT DAY, ED.”  But her tone suggested that she wasn’t at all hoping he’d have a good day, but rather that he’d get some kind of flu. In my sleepy head I was still singing, “my grandma told your grandma she’s gonna’ set your flag on fire.”

I drove away, forgetting to think about the other things on my list and just thought about Angry Man and Irritating Lady.  How these two random strangers basically wrecked the first hour of each other’s day, and feeling a little sorry about that, and wondering why we do that to one another.

I got to work, and did the little scramble, and got set up to give my power point, and waited with it queued up to the first slide, which was a picture of Edvard Munch’s The Scream.  And the second-biggest boss arrived, and sat down, and said, “what’s that around your neck, is that a scarf?”

“Yep, it’s a scarf.”

“What’s the deal with those?”

“This is deal with those:  I got up at 5, tossed clothes on, thought, oh, I’ll add a scarf and look super put-together for this important presentation.”

“Oh.  Is that how you look, super put together?  Huh.  Do guys wear scarves?”

“Just David Geffen.”  Which blew right by him (‘…your hat strategically dipped below one ear, your scarf it was apricot…”).

“What’s that movie about the scarves?”

“Love Story?”

“Yes!  That movie has lots of scarves in it.”

And the scheduled meeting time passed in this fashion; The Dude never showed, because something Very Important came up, and I have to say, the two bosses that did arrive looked kind of nervous about The Scream being up there, but no one mentioned it, and I never did give the presentation after all.

Update

Remember those pants?  They're back.  Yep, she disappeared for about a month, and then, with no comment, re-appeared, hung those cat-pee-smelling leather pants up proudly on her cubicle wall,  re-decorated the walls with her papa's war medals, and resumed whatever work it is that she does.

I dare you to try this at your job.  The whole thing: smelly outfit, disappear for a month, reappear...

Obesessed.

I finally purchased chemicals for my weed problem, which is rather a big deal, not unlike losing one’s virginity.  First, I went to the nursery and found this organic clove oil- vinegar compound, which technically is not a nasty chemical, but still, who wants clove oil and vinegar in your eyes?  And if you’re some little microbe in the soil, it has to be horrible to get doused in that stuff. 

I felt kind of awkward because it was in with the super nasty stuff like “moss-be-gone” (By the way, who would want the moss to be gone?  I never understood that.  People want something low and green to cover their yard, but if something low and green comes in on its own, it must be killed?), and the guy who worked in the store was helping a man who acted like he thought all plants were bad and wanted to kill everything in his yard, and the guy working there didn’t look like he liked that plant-hater guy at all. 

Anyway, I was strangely worried that it would seem like these were my people, and especially since I had to kind of scoot in front of them to grab the large jug off the shelf, giving the appearance that we were sort of mingling.  When I grabbed the jug, I accidentally dropped it, causing me to yelp just a tiny bit, because the very same thing happened the other day at the grocery store, and it went like this:  I hurriedly grabbed the large jug of laundry detergent, and dropped it, causing the plastic cap to split, and allowing a dinner-plate sized puddle of soap to ooze onto the floor.  I went to the front of the store, the way you do, and said, oh, I’m so sorry, I broke this.  And the clerk, the one who’s been there forever who’s name starts with C. just looked up and said, “goddamn you!”  Which I sort of liked, because it was pretty honest compared that phony, “oh, no problem” response.  Then she just tagged some random 12 year old kid who was in line with his mom and tossed him some paper towels and asked him to go clean up the mess.  The kid gave me a kind of eye-rolling dirty look, but went and cleaned it up. 

So I was thinking about that when this big 2 gallon jug of clove oil dropped.  Fortunately it didn’t break, but the woman who was ringing stuff up said, wow, what was that about?  I told her, in the briefest way possible that I was afraid it would be a tiny little Bhopal-ish thing right there in the store, and she, strangely enough, said, “oh, you didn’t yelp because you were afraid we’d laugh at you?”

That doesn’t seem right, does it?

At any rate, I brought it home, and sprayed a little test area on Saturday, and nothing seems to be happening, except for it smells kind of like Christmas.  I re-sprayed today, thinking maybe I didn’t douse it enough, but seriously, if I have to go through all that, pay money, and spray twice, I’d rather just pull it, especially since it’s become one of my top three obsessions.  I dunno.

It's never too late

Aries (3/21 – 4/19): You know that situation where a soon to be divorced neighbor calls and asks if he can move in, and you're kind of speechless, and say, um, um, instead of saying what you're really thinking, which is, wow, that's crazy! Instead, you say, oh, it sounds really hard, and he's all, yeah, it would be easier, though, if I could fall into the arms of another woman, and instead of saying, wtf, you say, 'have you tried heavy drinking? and he says, yeah, I'm all over it.  And for a second, you think you're  a rocket scientist? Yeah, I know. Anyway, don't try the heavy drinking yourself. Do yoga.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  Have we confirmed that you subscribe to Radio Lab podcasts?  Because if not, you should.  You would know the full story of the guy who infected himself with hookworms to cure his allergies, the chimp who thought he was human, and the origins of morality.  By the way, not that anyone asked me, but there's nothing wrong with a rebound affair; many great things start that way.  Have fun, my friend.  (Except I'm not a fan when it's lame and pitiful, like the Aries thing, above.)

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  Okay, I was doing some actual research on your sign, my dear Gemini, and learned that it's a mutable air sign, which means you might be willing to move from one thought to another without finishing the previous one, or even moving from book to book before finishing the previous one.  Then, just when it was getting to the really juicy part, it required a credit card to continue.  That seems wrong, so I'll give you this, for free:  I don't think you're mutable.  I had to look it up, but you seem pretty solid to me.

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21):  Does it seem like everyone wants to tell you their problems? I think that's just how it is to be a Taurus. You'll feel your energy waning along with the moon this week, but next week will be better.  Keep hiding bills under the mattress.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22): You know that bitter, hate-filled little man for hire? The one who's motto is, "Don't tell me what to do?" Um, don't hire him. I'm just saying. This week, focus on creative pursuits. Make stuff, look at pretty pictures, cook.  Paper maiche, that's always good.  Here's some pretty food; enjoy. 

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22): Does it make you just furious that Patty Murray's life was threatened repeatedly by some whacko who believes we're on a socialist path? Me too! Oh, wait, that's not your horoscope. Give me a sec.  Okay, here:  This is a good week to take action on that nasty chore list. The weather's lousy, the kids are out of school, just do it.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  Same ole.  Another week like the last one, and the one before that.  But that's okay, right?  (See Pisces.)

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21): You know when someone dear asks you to write about them on your blog, and you think, oh, how sweet is that, and you get kind of nervous that you won't be able to capture that quirky, delightful person very well in just a few words? I hate that. But I'll try. Stay tuned.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): I know. You look at the internet history and think, yikes, who was looking at Playboy, and then you realize, oh, that's just my mom, she's actually just reading the articles for material for the horoscopes. How awkward. I would hate that too. By the way, you'll have to share the family knife with your sister. (The bad news just keeps piling on.)

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): Did you read about this woman? I know, no one clicks on the links, so here you have it: she's 82, and went deer hunting with her son, traipsing across rugged terrain for 5 days in the Montana cold, and shot her first deer although she's half blind. Let's do that when we're 82, shall we? Yes, you Capricorns, who are so yin now, but give it a few years and a lot of target practice.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18): At some point in the future, you'll look back on Right Now, and think, wow, I had beauty, brains, youth, lovely children, health. That was the best. See if you can think that right now.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  Yeah, they say you have a watery demeanor.  That doesn't sound right, does it?  But this, on the other hand, is quite interesting, because it demonstrates that you can be simultaneously at home watching The Simpsons, and in Oklahoma visiting your aunt.  Or, in your case, possibly administering chemotherapy and gambling.  At the same time.  At any rate, take heart, this will be a good week.

The fun never stops

I’ve been asleep for much of the time since I returned home from the dog party Saturday, which might not be related to the party, but you decide.

As soon as we arrived, me tagging along with a friend and her three children, ages 5, 5, and 3, and her large black lab, 9, the dog immediately ran over to a potted plant and urinated, which I thought was good because maybe it meant less of that happening in the pool, but the woman who worked there looked surprisingly horrified, and ran over with some little pellets to Do Something about it.

The dog spent the rest of the party trying to mount the other dogs, who were diving in and out of the water, retrieving tennis balls and other saliva-soaked chew toys that were lobbed over the top of the childrens’ heads and floated all around the pool. There were definitely more canine guests than children, and all of them were quite large: german shephards, labs, etc.

Most of the adults stood on the sidelines drinking beer (I know! Let’s add alcohol to this situation, shall we? The only thing missing was firearms.) A. and I did get in, each accompanying one child (her third child, showing excellent judgement, took to a chair out of tails reach upon arrival, and stayed put the whole time.) Every so often a dog would grab the flotation device, or a child would start gumming a chew toy.

I will say that the birthday girl (a human) looked especially happy, and spent the party bobbing around contentedly with her pink waterwings, oblivious to the tufts of dog hair, smell of wet dog, and not seeming to mind when she occasionally swallowed a mouthful after getting swamped when a dog leaped into the pool, or had her toy taken away by adog.

Zombie College

From the archives, due to a sick day....  sorry f you've read this before

7/09

Last night, I began my intensive summer learning program on zombies. R has concluded that I need remedial assistance in this area, and revised my Netflix queue accordingly. No more foreign films, no documentaries, no indie classics; instead, “Quarantine”, Night of the Living Dead, “Diary of the Dead”, “Land of the Dead”, etc. For the next six weeks, every Sunday night we’ll watch one zombie movie.

It’s not like just watching a movie, though; it’s more like a class. Six minutes in, R. stops the movie: “Mom, what have you learned so far?”

“Um… Umm…”

“Focus. Think about it. We’re six minutes in. What do you know?”

“Um, that the zombies are scary?”

“Right, that’s a good start”, he says, like an indulgent teacher, “but more to the point, zombie movies start right off with something happening. Why look, you’re still awake, and people have already died! That’s one thing. What else did we learn here?”

“Ummm…”

“Okay, here’s what we know: if you see someone with blood around their mouth, don’t investigate, just get away. Are you writing this down?”

I pull out my notebook and write, “Zombie Rule #1, Don’t go near someone with blood around their mouth, just get away.”

We watch the 2-hour movie in this fashion, with R. stopping the movie frequently to explain things, or to coach me about watching, or to rewind to point out something I missed. I wrote down 12 rules that I thought I’d share, in case you need them. Some, surprisingly, apply to the rest of life, and some don’t at all. If you’re confused about which is which, please raise your hand.

Rule #2: Zombies cannot form sentences. I'd say this is more like a diagnostic than a rule, but that's probably splitting hairs. We all know people like this, but odds are, they aren't zombies.

Rule #3: Zombies feed on warm flesh, and can only be killed by shooting them in the brain. (I argued about this one; I didn’t think the movie really showed this for sure, but R. said these facts have been widely documented in the literature.)

Rule #4: Don’t ever use a croquet mallet as a weapon against a zombie. (“Why, R?” Guess. “Because its part of a wimpy lawn game?” “No, it’s because it’s a top-heavy weapon with a flimsy wooden shaft. Inadequate.”)

Rule #5: In the event of a Z.A., it’s okay to steal a toilet and throw it through the window, or participate in other such lawlessness.

Rule #6: Zombie infestations, unlike the swine flu, spread rapidly in a community, but slowly on a planet because zombies don’t get on airplanes. They are too busy milling about outside your window looking scary to keep track of an airplane itinerary.

Rule #7: When you find a secure spot, don’t leave. (We paused here to debate the merits of this in our actual life - I don’t think you can really call it living if you do this, its more like waiting to die, but we agreed that during the ZA, it makes sense.  I think real life is all about leaving your secure spot.)

Rule #8: If someone is bitten, shoot him or her in the head immediately. (Hopefully, there’s no confusion as to whether this would apply in real life. Please ask if you’re puzzled.)

Rule #9: Prioritize. Kill crazies first, then zombies. The crazies will bring you down. Example: if someone’s pregnant wife turns into a zombie and delivers a scary little zombie baby, kill dad first, because although he’s crazy with grief, he can still reason, unlike the shackled zombie mother, and therefore, presents a greater risk. (The crazies bring us down in real life, but we have other remedies, like counseling and medication. Only during the ZA do you shoot them in the head.)

Rule #10: Don’t make openings to let anyone in to your secure spot. (See #7. Again, this is the opposite of how we want to live our real lives.)

Rule #11: Communicate clearly, with complete information. Example: if someone goes into a building with a zombie inside, and you’re talking to her on a walkie-talkie from another building across the way, and you know that Andy is a zombie because he’s smeared blood on his whiteboard rather than writing a complete sentence, say, “Andy is now a zombie, get out,” rather than just saying, “Get out.” But where’s Andy? “Just get out.” (Hey, that’s a good idea! Communicate! I’m learning tons in summer school!)

Rule #12: Be a team player. Example: If you get bitten by a zombie, don’t get on the boat with your friends and loved ones, stay on shore to die. I think this could actually apply in real life too.

Happy Easter, everyone.