Texts From R.

R:  How would you feel about me getting a different car?

Me:  I can't contribute money to that, if that's what you're asking.

R:  No, that's not a problem.  I'm just thinking of getting rid of the Hyundai for something with a bit more pizazz.

Me:  Oh R.  Don't be that guy.

R:  The guy who goes after what he wants? 

Me: The guy who wants shallow material stuff.

R:  It's not about looks, I just want something that might have a chance at passing another car.

Me:  What's wrong with being the back-line leader?

R:  It was fun for the first two years, but I feel like I have front of the line potential.

Me:  There's always a car ahead of you. 

R:  And I intend to catch up with it. 

Who's got the bacon?

Besides the recycling bins, the other thing on my mind is Other Ways to Make Money.

Alas, I still need to bring home actual bacon for R., who would eat that stuff every day if he could.  

I started with the “do what you love and the money will follow” theory, so I made a list of what I love:

Chocolate cake.  Especially if it has many layers and one of them contains raspberry sauce.  Its hard to see where the money is here, but I guess I could start eating it more often and just see what happens.

Stories.  I love stories as much as I love my opposable thumb, particularly if they’re true, and even more so if I’m lying in bed and someone is telling the story to me, which is why I’m so grateful for all the excellent podcasts these days.  Again, it’s a little hard to see who would pay me for that though.    I think if there was money to be made here, I'd already be rich.  But if you see this ad, please contact me:

WANTED:  SOMEONE WHO WILL LAY AROUND AND LISTEN TO INTERESTING STORIES.  MUST PROVIDE OWN PILLOW AND BLANKET.

My list is much longer, but it seems like “do what you love and the money will follow” only works if what you love is investment banking, surgery, or inventing the iPod, so I decided I should generate a list of possible jobs that I wouldn't have to love, but maybe the job and I would like each other well enough to keep it going.  Here it is:

1. Dog walker.  This would be a chance to get outside, get exercise, and so on.  I do like dogs, but I’m not very excited about carrying the plastic bag and all that's involved there.  And, I’m afraid that the kind of dog who has to hire someone like me might not be in the best spirits.  I’m also not sure if dogs pay very well, and they would definitely want to keep the bacon for themselves.
2. Tarot card reader.  This seems hard because of all the cards.  But, all the job hunting gurus talk about "transferrable skills".  For example, maybe you've never cooked before, but you've been involved in the restaurant industry, and by that, you mean you eat lunch out every day because you're too lazy to make a sandwich.  I think I’ve built up skills in the astrology arena that could be used in developing a Tarot card reading resume.  I think those people are anti-bacon, though.
3. Dancing outside of a business dressed as a chicken or a cow.  I’d get to listen to my iPod all day and dance, so this might be worth looking into.  I may need help making a chicken costume though, if you aren't busy.  
4. Write sayings for bottle caps. The words on the inside of the bottle cap are so often disappointing that I believe there’s a need for this.  I almost gave up on the idea, because when it comes down to it, what would I write?  But I hang out with some very smart funny people, and decided I could just listen and steal little phrases.  So I went to a party the other night, and I wasn’t there for long before Dr. D. said, “And the magic takes over.”  Score.  Imagine if you got that message when you opened a beer!  So I found a napkin and a pencil and wrote it down.  (Sadly, no one seemed to think it was odd that I was taking notes on the napkin at the party.  I know.)  Someone else said something good, too, and I wrote it down on the napkin.  And then someone, and it could have been me, spilled beer on the table, and I used that very napkin to wipe it up, which was pretty sad.  All their ideas, soggy.  But everyone was kind enough to come up with a few more, which, if you promise not to steal these (again), I’ll share here:

"Huh?”

"That’s a little business in the front for me"

"She was clapping on the one and the three like white people do."

"Some like it luke warm"

And, my personal favorite:  "He was kind of aggressive and my parents didn’t like him, so we ate him."

Anyway, this is me networking.  Tomorrow, with any luck, we'll all learn one way or another if we have jobs.

The bins

Work is strange these days because we’re playing that musical chairs game where managements says, “the music is going, sing along everyone, but just to let you know, at some point, it will stop and we’re going to remove somewhere between 5 and 22 chairs.  Enjoy!  It could be today, or it could be another day, but soon.  Anyway, get back to work everyone!”

That really brings the best out in everyone, as you might imagine.  People spend a lot of time eying the remaining chairs and making a subtle case for how their butt is deserving of at least one of them.

We know this game so well, because we’ve been downsizing for years – from 400 people a few years ago, to 100 now, and each time, we go through the same exercise, which involves endless speculation and scenario-building. Due to the union contract, layoffs are entirely based on seniority, but there are complicated rules, like Calvin Ball, so it’s never clear-cut.  Everyone has gone through this scenario so many times that sadly, we pretty much have everyone’s adjusted union membership date memorized.  We speculate on who might or should retire. Twenty seven percent of our office consists of people over age 60 now, and after this next round, it seems like they may need special accommodations for walkers and pill storage.

Rumors circulated that the music would stop Wednesday, and we did observe the now familiar pre-layoff behavior, which involves all the Big Guys going into each other’s offices and closing doors and not making eye contact with anyone, but nothing happened, so we were hoping it would happen on Thursday. At the end of the day, we learned that they’ve sent the names for “pre-approval” downtown, which sounds good, right?   Like, “based on your outstanding record, you’re preapproved!”

It’s hard to explain the whole workplace without delving into way too much minutiae, but just picture a cross between The Emperor’s New Clothes, Alice in Wonderland, and The Hunger Games.  Sort of a sketchy post-apocalyptic, drug-induced fantasy without the drugs, if that clarifies it.  I know, that’s a little hard to wrap your brain around, so let me just give you an example. 

Anyone who’s worked in a bureaucracy before knows that there’s some level of dysfunction built into the system, and you find little ways around that.  The thing here is, we’ve stopped working around it.  


As an example, we have a copy room that has two large recycling bins in it. That’s convenient, right? Recycling in the location where some paper is generated?  But last August, the recycling bins were observed to be upside down, making them impossible to use.  Someone, probably trying to be helpful, righted them.  In a household, this would be the equivalent of replacing the toilet paper – something you see needs to be done, and just do it without being asked.  But this act was followed by a global e-mail explaining that we aren’t to do that without proper authorization, and it won’t be authorized, because the recycling contractor finds it inconvenient to empty the bins from the copy room.  Of course, I do recognize that as public servants, we’re here for the convenience of the recycling contractor, the contractor who emptied these bins from this location for the previous 10 years.

But something changed, and now we’re allowed to have one barrel right side up, and one remains upside down.  I guess they’re willing to be mildly inconvenienced to do the recycling.  Let’s remember that this is a bureaucracy that requires everything to be submitted in triplicate.  Our barrel fills quickly.

For a few days, people were curious about that, but now, it’s just how it is.  Huh, we have two bins, one over-turned, don’t wonder about that.  

There are so many weird things that we really don’t have the strength to get worked up about most of them, but here’s another example.  A few weeks ago, they sent e-mail out saying that we’re down 22% in permit volume from last year, so they’ll need to lay off accordingly.  Staff, though, looked at the permit history, which is a public record, and noticed that we’re actually up in numbers from last year.  Here’s how that went down:

Staff:  Hmm, why did the e-mail say that we’re down in permit volume when the numbers are actually up from last year?

Mgt:  Ohhhh.  Where did you get that, that we’re down in permit volume?

Staff:  From the e-mail that management sent out. 

Mgt:  OH.  So you thought that when they said we’re down 22% in volume that we actually had fewer permits.  OHHH. 

Staff:  Uh-huh.

Mgt.:  OH.  No, that’s not it at all.  We’re just actually down 22% in complexity of review required.  So even though permits are up, complexity is down.

Staff:  Really?  How would you know that?  No one has really asked us about how complex anything is.

Mgt:  Well, we have a formula to figure it out.

Staff:  Wow.  Can we see the formula?

Mgt:  Well, actually, it’s embedded in an Excel spreadsheet.

(At this point, N. turns to me:  “Do they call that a logarithm or an algorithm?”

Me:  Shush, N.  )

Staff:  So, could we see the formula?

Mgt:  Yeah, see, it’s embedded in this excel spreadsheet.  We don’t have enough paper in the building to print it out.

So anyway, you can kind of see how things are going down.  There was another little document available to the public, a financial summary showing that on January 1 we had $11 mil in the bank, and have make $100K since then, and permit volumes are on track.  N. had the same conversation with a different guy about that:

N:  So, it looks like we’re doing okay, based on this.

Mgt:  OH.  So you thought when it said we are making money and permits are on track that we’re doing okay.  Well, actually, that doesn’t take into account a lot of factors.  We’re actually losing money.

N:  So when it says we started with $11 million and now we have $11.1 million, we’re losing money? I’m confused.

Mgt:  Yeah, see there are a lot of factors that aren’t shown there.  Like our move.

N:  You mean the move that’s being funded by adding 5% to the cost of all permits?

Mgt:  well, actually, it’s going to be very expensive to move.

N:  Wait, but I thought we were moving in order to save money.

Mgt:  Well, we are. We will save a lot of money, but it’s going to cost a lot of money.  We’re going to need to take out a loan.

N:  So, do I have this right?  We’re moving in order to save money, but it’s going to cost so much that we have to take out a loan? 

Mgt:  Yeah, see, there’s a formula we’re working with. . . 

One of the questions that no one has asked, though, is why are we keeping these bins anyway?  They’re big and ugly and take up space, and we aren’t allowed to use them.  Like, wait, we finished the last olive.  Why is the jar of brine still in the refrigerator?  Are we saving that for something?  That’s the kind of thing I can think about.  No logarithms or algorithms, just  a tiny concrete little problem.  So I went around today and asked people what they thought.

I started with Tennis-Man.  

Me:  Hey, what do you think the deal is with the over-turned recycling bin?

T-M:  We just got an e-mail that they won’t be repairing the color copier that we all use.

Me:  Really?  What happened to “reduce, re-use, repair, recycle?”

T-M:  I think the County cars are next.  Next week, you’ll be driving a County car, and if something goes wrong, just leave it, get out your bus pass, hitchhike, whatever you need to do to get to your next field site. Be prepared for that.

Me:  Thanks for the tip. What about the bins, though?

T-M:  Yeah.

I leave and go over to Ms. Clicky Click, whom I sometimes borrow hair from. 

“I’ve got to know what you think about the overturned recycling bin,” I begin.  But asking that question drew a small crowd.  I was all, “I know.  You guys are as worried about the bins as I am.”

Everyone looks at me blankly, and someone says, “We aren’t thinking about those bins, Betsy.”

“Really?  Come on.  It’s pretty much all I can think about these days.”

My boss gives me that look (the "Medication.  She needs medication." look), and someone says something like, “Really, Betsy, why is this coming up now?  Those things were turned over last summer.”

I’m not sure if I should actually confess out loud to these people, but I go for it.  “Remember Hogan’s Heroes?  That doghouse wasn’t really a doghouse.  You know?  It wasn't actually a doghouse at all.  Do you see where I’m going with this?”

And everyone’s looking at me, shaking their head, and I can tell they’re thinking, wow, she’s gonna have a lot of trouble getting a new job.  

But really.  

Guidelines for Breaking Up

As I mentioned, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to teens, relationships, and breakups, and I’ve decided to pen some instructions here.  (Do you like how I used “pen” as a verb?).  I’ve been on both ends of the break up so many times, and consider myself a rather sorry expert on the matter.  

So here goes, guidelines for decency.

For the Dumper:

Be sure you mean it before you break up.  There’s nothing more cruel than using your partner as a yo-yo.  If you think there’s any chance of continuing the relationship, don’t do it!  It’s hurtful and unkind.  Once in a while, after a break up, you learn more about yourself or your partner, and are honestly compelled to try again based on new information.  That’s cool, but don’t use breaking up or the threat of it as a tool, and don’t be cavalier about ending a relationship.  That’s just wrong.  

If you aren’t sure whether your discontent is break-up worthy or not, consider these questions:

Have you tried to communicate about the issues that bother you?  Have you felt listened to and understood, or do things remain unresolved?  Sometimes, you momentarily feel generous enough to move on without resolution, but the same things will come up repeatedly until there’s either acceptance or resolution. 

Are things unresolved because, when it comes down to it, you have different values, communication styles, needs in a relationship, or are lacking the tools to work through things together?  Sometimes, the issue that sets things off is pretty minor, but in trying to resolve that, you learn something worse than the original problem, like that your partner doesn’t have the capacity to listen with generosity and an open mind, and accept you at your word.  

Do you still enjoy each other when you spend time together, or is it effortful, stilted, awkward?  Have the unresolved issues eclipsed the fun and/or highlighted qualities that don’t work?  Do you admire him/her?

If the answers to these questions suggest this isn’t a good fit for you, don’t linger!

A sidebar about breakups.  They're always mutual, but sometimes there's a problem of rectifying the mutual-ness on the time-space continuum.  One person has already figured out that it's not a good match, and names it.  The other person also knows it isn't working, but is either willing to settle for less, is just generally more optimistic about the prospects for change, or, things are working for them.  (This deserves a side bar within a side bar, but that’s not the kind of blog this is.  No no no.  But maybe if I can garner the focus, I’ll come back to it later). 

In the name of bringing more peace and kindness to the world, don’t drag it out, because that’s cruel.  Think horse with broken leg.  But first, prepare.  Prepare by summoning all of the compassion you can muster, because it’s painful to be on the receiving end of a break-up.  A breakup touches the persons’ deepest core of worthiness. Be kind. As someone once said, “It’s like smashing a kitten.”  I know.  If you’re having trouble coming up with compassion for the person, think about their inner kitten.

Also, try to understand the true meta-story line that allows each person to leave the relationship with their dignity intact.  Because that story is always there.  A break up is about two worthy people, each right for someone, just not each other.  Sometimes, you have to squint through your irritation, sadness, and frustration to see it, but if you do one thing at all, figure this out before you talk to the person. For example, “you and I want different things out of life”, or “our communication styles are so different that it leaves us both frustrated,” or, “we are looking for different models of a relationship – you seem to be looking for X, and at this point, Y is what I need” are non-judgmental explanations that don’t degrade the other persons’ self-worth.  And, the work of identifying that story will help you in the future.  Trust me on that!  (Oh wait, I'm the one about to get all the cats.  But really. . . )  Don’t plan to use a tired old untruthful cliché, like, “it’s not you, it’s me,” because everyone deserves better than that.  

Do it in person.  Even though you might be tempted to e-mail or call, show up and give the person the chance to honestly talk to you.  

Don’t be surprised if your ex lashes out.  This is, thankfully, pretty rare rare, and its a sorry indicator of your ex’es maturity level, but keep in mind that they’re doing the very best they can, and try to have compassion.  They’re obviously hurting, and it’s probably related to wounding that happened long ago and far away, unrelated to anything you’ve done or said -- you've just pulled the scab off.  But the sad fact is, they’ll try to hurt you back.  Remember that Dreikurs, who identified the levels of discouragement and matched them with types of behavior?  Yeah, the ones who are only mildly discouraged do attention-getting things, but the people who are extremely discouraged try to hurt others.  Think of him/her the way you would a drowning person.  They’re swimming for their emotional life, and will suck anyone they can down with them, especially you, because in their mind, you’ve pushed them off the boat.  

Sadly, this behavior confirms that you’ve made the right decision, and soundly eliminates any opportunity you two would have had to leave the relationship with everyone’s dignity intact, or maintain any kind of contact, let alone friendship.  Distance yourself from the person as much as you’re able.  Efforts at explaining your side will go nowhere with the angry drowner, because their primary goal is to hurt you.  Even though it’s tempting to try to defend yourself against the barbs that he/she will sling your way, don’t go there. It’s okay to name the obvious, though, e.g., “This behavior right now illustrates why we can’t be together.”  At all costs, don’t get pulled down to their level. It may take extra effort to manage your own hurt, anger, and frustration in this scenario, but try to picture your ex as the angry toddler that they've become.  Be the adult.  Remember, it’s how you behave in the difficult times that reveal who you are. Everyone can be easy-going when the going is easy.

A much more common scenario is when the person has a lot of questions for you. Be patient, and keep coming back to the positive story that you’ve teased out of all the heartbreak and disappointment.  See if it resonates with them, and if not, see what, learn their thoughts on the meta story.  Don’t get bogged down in details, because they can be hurtful.  This person is trying hard, through their hurt and disappointment, to be mature, but it’s not easy.  Appreciate that. Try to gently encourage your ex to look at the bigger picture:  that you’re both lovely people, but incompatible romantically.  Even if you think it might be helpful for their future relationships to tell him/her something distasteful about the way he/she behaves, smells, or dresses, don’t be tempted.  This isn’t the time or place for that.  Even if the pants do make their butt look big, and they should have pitched that hairstyle in 1983.  Confine your comments to the truth, and to what's positive about your ex and the relationship you shared.  

Rules for the Dumpee

If it’s a decent relationship with a mature person, you won’t be surprised when you have the breakup talk, because you’ll have been involved in difficult conversations that remain unresolved, and you won’t be enjoying each other’s company any more.  So when your ex tells you the relationship is ending, stay calm, and learn what you can.  This will be useful to you later, as you begin to heal and move on. Be grateful that they had the courtesy to end things cleanly, rather than let you two nit-pick each other to death.  Forgive them for taking on the nasty task of breaking up, and recognize that they, too, are losing a relationship that started with hope and optimism.

Don’t delve into the details, because you’ll learn nothing that helps you.  I’ve mistakenly gone down that road and learned that various people found me fat, unattractive, unable to hold a smile for long enough (I know!), am low-energy, not very interesting, and not athletic or funny enough.  None of that has been particularly useful to me.  

If you’ve been dating a chicken-shit, you may be completely shocked when they end things, because they haven’t brought up a single problem or issue.  Maybe they’ve seemed a little busy and unavailable lately, but you thought they really were busy. The good news here is that the people who surprise you with the break up never do it in person.  You’ll get a text, e-mail, or phone call.  At least you don’t have to face him/her right away -- you'll have privacy to gather yourself before seeing them.  Be grateful for this, and realize that, as inconsiderate as it feels, they too are doing the best they can.  This is all the conflict they can handle, and they’re afraid, as ridiculous as it sounds, of hurting your feelings. I know, like the sting is removed if you’re dumped over a text message…

Remember that no one owes it to you to be in a relationship.  Unconditional love is for parents to give children, but a peer-to-peer romantic relationship should be one that both parties enjoy.  Forgive them for wanting more. 

Try to understand and come to terms with the meta-story of why you aren’t right for each other.  If you're quick on your feet, you can even help the person who just dumped you see it in a more global way.  Remember, this is a mutual break-up -- they just said it first!  

For both parties

Remember who you are, and keep your sights on who you want to be.  Some of the less mature humans on the planet blame their ex for their poor behavior.  Like the abusive guy who is driven to beating his wife because “she asked for it”, some people feel like the behavior of another gives them license to act poorly. Don’t let someone else cause you to behave in any way less than awesome, thoughtful, respectful, and full of self-worth.  If your kids or your mom knew how you were behaving, would they admire you?    

Take care of yourself.  Spend time with friends who love you, do things you like to do, talk to a therapist, eat ice cream in bed.  In short, do what you need to move on gracefully without antagonizing your ex.

There.  Not that was one long preachy blog post, but that's what's on my mind right now.  Thanks for reading.

Best Breakup Ever

I’m currently in the middle of teaching a 27 week sexuality education class to 20 middle-schoolers, as part of a small team of fine adults.  There’s a bit of looking down at shoes and squirrelly-ness on the part of the youth, and there’s a lot of letting the silence and squirrelly-ness be okay on the part of the adults, but overall, I feel honored to be part of an excellent program with such a thoughtful group of young people.  

The program offers the message that healthy relationships, which take many forms, are consensual, non-exploitive, safe, and based on trust and good communication.  It’s interesting to work with youth as they develop vocabulary and confidence to head towards that.  I hope it works.

As I think about relationships, though, a bit of me feels exhausted on their behalf for all that lays ahead. All of the broken hearts and disappointment they’ll undoubtedly experience in their lives.  As The Other R. says, it’s good to jump into the rock tumbler and get the jagged edges ground off, but sheesh. Anyway, this whole train of thought made me think fondly of the best breakup I’ve ever been in.  It was someone I hadn’t met, but we connected on the internet.  He wrote to me, I replied, and then, I never heard back.  

Aha, I thought.  Here’s my chance!  (Come on, you were thinking that too, right?)

So I wrote again, asking if we could just meet to break up.  “Here’s how it could go,” I outlined.

We’d chat for a few minutes, and then one of us (and sure, it could be you, I’m okay with that) says,  “We need to talk,” while looking down at your shoes. I’d look down at my shoes for a minute while I put on a brave face, and say “Uh, what’s on your mind?”

You’d do that speech, “Really, it’s not you at all, but, um, well, um, it turns out that I really need to focus on some other areas of my life.  Like my cat and stuff.  But don’t get me wrong, you’re terrific.”  And so on.  I’d be really cool about it all. For a brief moment, I’d try to win you back. “But think back to how great it was at the beginning,” I’d say. And you’d remind me that the beginning was only five minutes ago, and I’d put my game face on and be very mature about it all. There would be no sobbing, clinginess, or weird displays of anger.  

There are the obvious things make it a great break-up (such as: you haven’t gotten attached to a pet or child that you’ll never see again.  No one has left their favorite fleece jacket at the other one’s house, so there wouldn’t be that awkward, “I know I just dumped you, but I’d really like to get my coat back…” And of course, if there’s a formula saying that it takes half as long as the relationship actually lasted to get over it, we’d be completely ready to move on in 2-3 minutes.).  

But there’s a whole ‘nother benefit resulting from the arduous 25 miles between our abodes.  Here’s the deal: when you break up with the lovely gluten- and cruelty-free vegan woman in Wallingford with the ironically named fish, (who, I might add, would judge you for pouring milk on your mass-produced breakfast cereal), you run the chance of running into her at your favorite coffee shop when you’re on your next new date.  Awkward. 

Or worse yet, you’re sitting in your favorite bar with your MacBook, scanning OK Cupid, and she’s there on a date, and they look like they’re having tons of fun.  

No, actually, here’s what happens:  you drag yourself out of bed and toddle down to the store in your pajamas one evening to buy some Thera-flu.  You look like crap, and feel worse.  You haven’t bathed or shaved in days, and, in addition to the flu, you’ve got a bad case of adult acne.  Your pajamas are unbecoming.  Your slippers make you look elderly. And there she is, at the store with a handsome man in tow, buying red wine and condoms. You hope she doesn’t see you, but she does, and tosses you a breezy hello.  Anyway, this will never happen with us.

I concluded by saying I hope it didn’t seem unusual to have a random stranger ask to meet to break up, but I hoped it would be as good for him as it would be for me.

He replied with a correction on some of the details, noting that it’s not unusual at all; in fact, andom women call and write him all the time asking if it might be possible to break up well before he's met them.  And because it’s so common for him, he’d come to accept it as a service he can generously offer, in much the same way that way AOL handed out free CDs in the ‘90s. 

He clarifyied that the ex and her new guy weren't buying red wine and condoms, but rather, a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, a can of whipping cream, and copy of the Sunday New York Times, but acknowledged the accuracy of the Theraflu and pajamas.

So he obliged me.  We met for a drink and a break-up, and I still think fondly of the whole relationship, which lasted, if you count the part I spent in traffic on the way there, about 2 hours.  (I don’t think I get to count the return trip, right?)

More horoscopes

Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  Today, the receptionist called me on the phone and said, "You have a delivery!  It's for you, you should come down right away!"  She said it in a cheery voice, so as I walked downstairs, I tried to think -- is it my birthday?  I bet it's flowers or chocolate!  Did I actually win the lottery or some other contest?  But when I got there, it was a skeevy process server.  Subpoenaed.  Court on Monday for some stupid project I never even worked on.  Grr.  That, my friend, is a lesson in not getting your hopes up too soon.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I realized today, as I was listening to a podcast that involved a granola throw down, that I'm so easily amused that, well, it actually is funny.  Who does that?  Who listens to a podcast of people sitting around talking about which granola and chewing?  It's come to this, Taurus.  See if you can liven things up.  Please.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): I have an ex that one of my friends calls, "The Outerwear Stalker," because he has shown up unexpectedly demanding pants, coats, and boots back that he gave loaned me for Christmas.  Let this be a lesson to you, Gemini -- wear clean, respectable underwear in case someone shows up demanding the pants you're wearing.  Don't be caught in a thong.  And while we're talking about the pants area, don't ever ask whether your pants make your butt look big.  Just be grateful you have pants.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  We're on Republican debate number 26 or something, and the thing I've been wondering about is whether any of the candidates been infected by Toxoplasmosis.  You've all read this by now, I'm sure, but in case you haven't, do it right away!  (I know, I've already confessed that I listen to podcasts about granola, but seriously, it's quite interesting.  I think Newt has the cat parasite.  That's my prophecy, Cancer.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  (Did you like how I called that a prophecy, Leo?  I know.)  Anyway, there's a bunch of stuff I know nothing about, but you do, like Downton Abbey or whatever it's called.  I have a TV, but sadly, the room that it's in is about 35.5 degrees, and ever since the damn government made us get the converter box, I haven't really known how to use it.  Am I missing anything, Leo?

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  Speaking of stuff I know nothing about, what's the deal with Pinterest?  I find it annoying, but maybe I should lighten up.  It seems like it's a convenient way for people to become corporations too, by shopping online for images and tagging them so they show up on your page.  Then other people can look at your page, and think things like, "wow, she likes some really cute boots!  Too bad she's always just schlepping around in Keens."  Anyway, on Pinterest, you tag pictures in  the same way that your 12-year-old self would cut grand houses and cute outfits out of magazines, but this is for grown-ups.  The reason that I was exploring it is because Mrs. Mitt Romney (I didn't name her that!), whom I stalk in a mild, 'keep your outerwear, Annie' way, has a page that involves uneventful recipes and "patriotic" things, which leads me on a few different rants.  One is, when did patriotism get reduced to red, white, and blue chex mix?  Seriously, can we call the Occupiers patriots, and chex mix a really inferior party snack for stoned people?  Okay, Virgo, I'll stop there.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  Today (before the subpoena arrived) they announced that they will be announcing an undetermined number of layoffs at an undetermined time, but the jobs will definitely end on June 1.  It's super reassuring, but anyway, I was telling my boss that I've been beefing up my resume by always doing self-check at the store.  "I'll be adding 'grocery checkout' as a volunteer activity, which makes me pretty marketable, right?"  I started pantomiming scanning, including doing some produce.  "Wait," he stopped me, "what are you doing right now?  "That was an orange.  First I had to plug in the PLU, 3027, and then put it on the scanner to weigh."  "How do you learn all this stuff," he asked.  I know.  Anyway, if you know of any openings for someone like me, and by that, I mean the sort of person who listens to podcasts about granola and stuff, let me know.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  Do you ever have that thing where you get an e-mail, "hey, was that your daughter on the news last night?" Yep.  The adorable one running alone in the middle of the night near the scene of a murder, saying, "I'm not really worried about it.  It happens."  That's my girl.  But Scorpio, live as if you're going to die, which we all are.  Just not right away.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  I've been having little anxiety attacks lately where I wake up at night in a panic, imagining that someone has shown up in the dark, demanding articles of clothing back, and it's hard to take a deep breath after that, so I lie there doing that fake deep breath/yawn thing most of the night and listen to podcasts, not all of them about granola.  I'd like to recommend Too Much Information, which is described as, ""the sober hangover after the digital party has run out of memes, apps and schemes. Host Benjamen Walker finds out that, in a world where everyone overshares the truth 140 characters at a time, telling tales might be the most honest thing to do."  I have so many other podcasts to recommend, it may be a whole post one day.  Anyway, check out TMI.

My beer cap log

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): For a while, it seemed like every time I opened a Redhook ESB, which is most evenings, I'd get the forecaster guy on the underside of the bottle cap, which was pretty disappointing, because all I really want out of life is a little saying.  Is that so freakin' much to ask?  I don't want a silhouette of the forecaster guy.  I think it's Inversion IPA that says, "Bravely done!"  Which is great the first time, and then seems insincere, and we're not for that, Capricorn.  But back to my point:  It turns out I really don't get the forecaster guy.  Ever.  Capricorn, maybe things aren't really as annoying as they might seem.  Keep that.  And don't forget to breathe.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  The other day I went to talk to my boss about my suspicion that he's been infected with Toxoplasmosis.  "You're kind of paranoid, and you react slowly."  He also didn't seem to mind the smell of the cat pee pants, another diagnostic, but I didn't want to bring that up.  He looked kind of nervous, and said he had a cat that he got when it was two ("or maybe it was three") months old, but because of my difficulty understanding things lately, I thought he was telling me he got a cat when he was two or three months old.  We went around like that for a while until we stopped, but I think he might be on my side.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  I stopped at Tolt-McDonald Park today to walk across the bridge and check out the flood, but alas, there was too much water to get to the bridge.  I spent a long time trying to decide whether I was sad or happy about that.  I know.  Really, Pisces, that's what's wrong with America.  Too much over-thinking.  But you kind of see my point, right?  I was excited that the flood was big enough, but also disappointed that I couldn't get to the bridge, and I really had no idea which was the bigger thing.  Don't do that, Pisces.  Just be.

Groundhog Scopes

Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  Ms. Pasta stopped me in the hall the other day.  "Could we trade shoes?  My feet are killing me."  Obedient me was all, "sure!"  Soon, my own feet were killing me, probably because the fashionable high-heeled boots aren't created in the shape of a human foot (unless you have a foot that's shape like an isosceles triangle.)  What did we learn here, Aries?  I'm not sure.  But focus on comfort this week, and if someone suggests you walk a mile in their shoes, take a look at the shoes first.  Empathy doesn't require an actual shoe swap.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I love Miranda July more than you know, because she's written a whole book about what she did when she was supposed to be writing, which offers that comforting bit of irony and fate that I wish would apply more to my life.  But that would require that I accomplish cool stuff while playing solitaire, and this planet isn't about that.  For Miranda, it's as if the writing has to come out of her and if she tries to avoid it by reading the PennySaver, well, the book will be about that, because there are words in her that will find a way out no matter what.  Inside me are red twos that need to be placed on black threes, and I'm not trying to whine here, but that is a little disappointing.  Anyway, Miranda finds the tender sweet bits in being annoyed and annoying, and writes about them so that you care more about her and everyone else.  Read it, Taurus.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): Why are there flies in my kitchen in the middle of winter, Gemini?  Is it a sign?  Are they tiny little horrible spies for the other side wearing microphones, catching me saying stuff like, "R, make your own sandwich, will ya?"  Is there something dead somewhere, and if so, should I call someone?  Oh Gemini.  Fly paper?  Please advise.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  Yay for Washington for legalizing same-sex marriage.  It's about time.  Cancer, see what you can legalize this week.  Could you start with something small, like driving with one headlight out?  Because I'm probably about to get pulled over for that, and I don't want to go to jail.  No I don't.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  N'3lvra is about to retire, because along with the slow down in housing starts, there's been a big downturn in the advice column industry.  Back in the day, she got a few letters every day, but people seem to be reducing, reusing, and recycling, and generally having fewer problems, and she's all for that, except for the other part.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  Who's shooting all the sea lions in Puget Sound, Virgo?  Here in Shangri-latte, we're supposed to be ironically vegan (in a way that allows consumption of the occasional maple bar wrapped in bacon), and full of heart-centeredness.  Really, who could shoot one of those big slobbery whiskered guys?  I just hope Punxatwany Phil is okay.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I'm not worried about the short people, Libra, because they can go to the petite section of the store.  And I'm not worried about the tall people, because they can reach everything on the high shelves.  I'm worried about the mid-height people, and from now on, this blog is going to be devoted to them.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  The news is confusing lately.  The Susan G. Komen foundation, the largest breast cancer organization, has stopped funding breast exams and mammograms conducted at planned parenthood.  Meanwhile, the "don't tread on me, we're the tea party and we're not about insider Washington" is about to nominate one of the biggest insiders around as their candidate.  Is it just me, Scorpio?

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  I heard an interview with that woman who spent three unplanned nights in a snow cave on Mt. Rainier after planning to be out snowshoeing for just a few hours.  Of all the scary and arduous parts of her story, the one that really freaked me out is that they had to stay awake in the tent all night because they knew that if they went to sleep, they'd die.   Me, I hang out in my little cubicle all day, come home, have dinner and one beer, and if someone pronounced that I have to stay up until 10  o'clock or I will die, I wouldn't know how to pick.  Hmm, sleep or death... can I have a few minutes to think about it?  Sag, have another cup of coffee.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Does Mitt remind you of the Manchurian Candidate?  Even just a little? Anyway, I think there should be an "occupy Mitt" movement.  Oh wait.  Never mind.  Anyway, this train of thought reminds me of a secretary at a job I used to have who explained that if people aren't really showing up in their lives, there are aliens waiting to "walk in".  That was her term, and she was pretty sure her sister was a walk-in.  It gave new meaning to that sign you see at beauty salons, "walk ns welcome".  Yeah, they aren't so welcome here, Capricorn.  And don't occupy Mitt -- I was just kidding.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  Starlee Kine went on a rant the other day about how the phrase "it is what it is" is just so wrong, and I have to agree, even though I say it on occasion, especially about my job.  Starlee said something about that being the mantra for complacency, and we're not for that, Aquarius.  Make what it used to be what it isn't anymore.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  We won $7 in the lottery this week.  The thought of splitting that 6 ways was causing my coworkers to get out their calculators, until we agreed to roll it right back into from whence it came.  I've been waiting all day to use the word "whence", so there it is.  Anyway, the sad truth of the matter is that when winning big is discussed, the topic immediately turns to taxes, and forming a corporation to accept the winnings, and so on.  I have this weird sense that that's not normal, and it might have something to do with cubicle fungus.  Is that an actual thing?