Protecting the things you love most is busy work because it tends to have a constantly changing agenda. You have to open your mouth and sing, sweet Taurus. This week it’s important to communicate your little heart out, even if the fool you’re supposed to be chatting with is you. (SFBG)
You are the lord of all you survey! I swear to God! I’m almost tempted to say that you now have the power to command whirlwinds and alter the course of mighty rivers! At the very least you will be able to mobilize the ambition of everyone you encounter and brighten the future of every group you’re part of! Act with confident precision, Taurus! Speak with crisp authority! Your realm waits expectantly for the transformative decisions that will issue from the fresh depths of your emotional intelligence! (Free Will Astrology)
Conflict between career concerns and personal obligations could leave you slightly frazzled. You won’t be able to handle everything, so prioritize your time and do the best you can. (Aquarium Age)
"He began to be comforted by three things. One was a set of drawings of the 88 Buddhas of the Shikoku pilgrimage, whose outlines—robes, haloes, calm hands—he devoutly painted in. The carbonised, face-down Buddhas of his tanka found peace again. The second comfort was in “simple acts of kindness”. And the third was an image of his life as a baton, passed on every time anyone heard or read his testimony. All these batons might form, together, another human raft."
When someone says, “Oh Taurus, that’s so you," you want it to be for something awesome — not for being a stick-in-the-mud who gets so totally overwhelmed they act out. Cope better with your worrying ways so you don’t sabotage the support offered you. (SFBG)
I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, and I certainly don’t want to encourage you to do something foolish, but if you’ve been pondering the possibility of storming the castle, this would be a good time to do so. What exactly am I implying with the phrase “storming the castle”? Well, anything that involves a brave effort to fight your way into the command center of the empire … or a heroic attempt to take back the sanctuary you were exiled from … or a playful adventure in which you work your way into the heart of the king or queen. (Free Will Astrology)
Jupiter has the potential to infuse all of your interactions with optimism. Use this current to accentuate the positive and you’ll create and maintain a joyous attitude. (Aquarium Age)
Tonight is poor man’s red wine and remembering summer. Cold summer, and wind on my parent’s front stoop, drinking wine and Diet Coke in blue tumblers. I rode around the forest preserves and streets on my blue road bike and listened to this man’s sad voice and the woods for hours, in dusk and heat. When dark hit, it dropped degrees, and I felt guilty for radio silence. Tonight I think about DeKalb and the long interstate there (only an hour and a half, only the month of June), songs on repeat on my car stereo, on my headphones. How dusty it was, how I always felt languid and lean on her couch. How we slept like the dead in her grandma bed, we baked bread and smoked too many cigarettes, and walked in summer storms. Bad temporary tattoos, mopping the floor, making art, her sweet, sticky skin and hugs I never jolted away from. How everything feels fragile and without hope right now, even though I know it isn’t. Even though I am so far away from summer and those months. But I’m still sitting inside that same person, just more brittle, maybe.
“Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Now you’re all gone, got your makeup on, and you’re not coming back.
Bleachin’ your teeeth, smile and flash, talkin’ trash under my window.
Stop that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.”—
"Anthems For a Seventeen Year Old Girl" Broken Social Scene
(This song going through my head all week. I think it means I need to do an introvert turn. C’mon. How could I spend all this time constantly around people and not feel just slightly off? Go home. Turn off. Get to it, man.)
I need to go home and beat the hell outta some bread dough.
Bernard Clayton? Your Cuban bread is GOING DOWN.
5-6 cups bread or all-purpose flour (I prefer Gold Medal Better for Bread) 2 packages dry yeast 1 tablespoon salt 2 tablespoons sugar 2 cups hot water (125F) Sesame or poppy seeds (optional, and I’ve never used them)
“Late at night I get the phone, you’re at the shop and sobbing all alone. Your confession (it’s coming out): you only married him, you thought your time was running out. But now you love him, and your baby—at last you are complete. But he’s distant, and you found him on the phone pleading, saying, Baby, I love you and I’ll leave her and I’m coming out to California. Let’s not forget ourselves good friend. I am flawed if I’m not free. And your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me.”—Rilo Kiley, “Does He Love You?” (I had this on full-tilt this morning, belting and pretending I had sequined accessories)
Now is the time for you to boldly go where you have been meaning to go for some time but have been too scared to act. Focus on the corner of the puzzle you are working on and try not to get too distracted by the picture on the box. To do things right, you can only do one step at a time — so clarify the steps and get to it! (SFBG)
"The common idea that success spoils people by making them vain, egotistic, and self-complacent is erroneous," wrote W. Somerset Maugham. "On the contrary, it makes them, for the most part, humble, tolerant, and kind." I think the trajectory of your journey during the last 12 months tends to confirm his theory, Taurus. According to my analysis, you set new benchmarks for your personal best in 2009, while at the same time becoming a wiser, riper human being. Congrats! Now get out there and capitalize on the grace you’ve earned. Be as organized as possible as you share the fruits of your progress. (Free Will Astrology)
As the Solar Eclipse deepens a longing for spiritual sustenance, you could find yourself starting to meditate or meditating longer. Be willing to explore, and you’ll find the balance that works for you. (Aquarium Age - Ralfee Finn, you’ve been going wonky lately. Get it together, man!)
Solitary dance party in my living room last night. Electric skin and wishing for a little more sun, or the hazy days where when you look up at someone’s face, their eyes are always shadowy between humid leaves.
The reason you stop stalking people on the internet is because you happen upon a pretty ugly picture over social networking sites of that one. That ex. And then you happen upon the picture that I’ll try and be better about? and not link to? because THAT makes me a good person? that is of a fucking teardrop tattoo held up to that face. This picture so surprises you and that ex looks so out of it that you almost don’t recognize them. And you think, A TearDrop Tattoo? When did you join the Bloods? The Crips? I can never keep them straight. But you think, man, I dodged that bullet. Because this person wants to be known as a murderer (or, according to Wikipedia, an Australian Child Molester) all over the internet. Because that’s cool, right? Successfully stealing marginalized cultural signifiers? That is so. fucking. dope.
I’m almost over hating myself for not jumping ship, but not quite. What’s nice is that it seems that how you stop is just becoming so disgusted with that person you tried to love, that you will them out of your memory forever.
“We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.”—The Virgin Suicides, Jefferey Eugenides (I have this book + movie on my mind today)
jenny lewis with the watson twins/rise up with fists!!
This was posted about a million years ago. No? Just a month? Hm. I am listening to lots of Rabbit Fur Coat lately and feeling all soft and messy and hard and gimlet-eyed (even though I have hazel, not clear, eyes). I do not think I like it, but then again, jolts. Augh. Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins make me feel good about giggling on the phone and smoking long cigarettes and having messy hair, raccoon eyes and a husky voice. Tonight I’m going to go home and turn the lights low and write and shimmy.
Like when you wake up behind the bar, trying to remember where you are, (having crushed all the pretty things) There but for the grace of god go I.
But I still believe. And I will rise up with fists.And I will take what’s mine.
In the bitter cold on Monday night, a man and woman picked apart a pyramid of clear trash bags, the discards of the HM clothing store that reigns in blazing plate-glass glory on 34th Street, just east of Sixth Avenue in Manhattan.
At the back entrance on 35th Street, awaiting trash haulers, were bags of garments that appear to have never been worn. And to make sure that they never would be worn or sold, someone had slashed most of them with box cutters or razors, a familiar sight outside H & M’s back door. The man and woman were there to salvage what had not been destroyed.
He worked quickly, never uttering a word. A bag was opened and eyed, and if it held something of promise, was tossed at the feet of the woman. She said her name was Pepa.
Were the clothes usually cut up before they were thrown out?
Here's the New Year, here's the Horoscope Wednesday!
April 20-May 20
This is not the time to pick at scabs or rock any smoothly sailing boats. You may be in a warring mood, but pick your battles wisely this week. You just need to deal with your own moodiness a bit better. Cultivate a sense of humor, carve out some down time for yourself, or take it out on the dance floor — don’t stir shit up. (SFBG)
Can you pull off a mid-course correction while hurtling through the air across a chasm during a leap of faith? If anyone is capable of such a feat, you are. However, I’d prefer it if that wasn’t necessary. I’d rather see you prepare a little better, like by procuring the help you’d need to create a safety net or sturdy bridge that will stretch across the chasm. Or by getting one of those jet packs to strap across your back and allow you to fly. Or by taking as much guesswork as possible out of the details about how you’re going to get from the edge of one cliff to the edge on the other side. (Free Will Astrology)
You’re reviewing and consolidating systems of every ilk, internal as well as external. As you sort through the various categories, pay special attention to what brings you joy, and make that a priority. (Aquarium Age)
Never fear, astrologers, I am watching every single fucking move this week.
I wrote this in an ancient journal to approach 2009. Really good idea looking back and evaluating? Sure, if you’re a total masochist, like I am! Let’s see, let’s see. Bold print is current evaluation.
"maybe i made goals for 2009. (I can’t even remember making goals. I do remember ranting and raving in Artemis with Franny over ice cream). which are stop fucking moping around so much. (Ha! Welcome to summer mopefest 09!) even if life hurts, just pretend it don’t. (Kids, when do I not engage in this behavior?) and life don’t hurt that bad. (Amen). call my grandmother more, write her a letter. (We did write letters, we did not talk on the phone) thank you notes, too. (Getting better at this every day!) apply for jobs. (150+) volunteer somewhere— 826 valencia, no one dies alone, it doesn’t matter. (Trying to get on this this year. Feels more possible.) you have time. you have plenty of time and you do fucking nothing with it so get it on. (This is true, but I didn’t have time, there’s never enough time) two hours of writing a week. (On average, this ended up being true, due fo thesis) minimum. write the first bits of your thesis before you get back. (Nope). go to sproul at cal and sit with your computer and work. (The computer broke, but I did do this! So many books, so many) even if you’re poor, make better choices. manage the money, because you know you can. even if you have to be balls up, do it, because people can’t hate you forever. (One, they can, this is just not true. Two, I didn’t balls up, but everyone lived) be better at being a partner and lover. (Didn’t matter, probably didn’t do it, and why did I feel the need to be “better” anyway?) stop fighting with everyone so much. (Withdrew, didn’t fight) just fight with yourself. (Oh, yeah, we went down for the count) walk more. be with new and more people, hang out at irish jenny’s and drink whiskey and roll around with loverboy. (Done and done!) keep your relationships good, but pick up the phone, still. (Abject and utter failure) make parents proud. (Jury’s still out) finish some sort of tiny book. (Yes! I did! Score one for me, wifey, and Eucalyptus Press!) maybe not a big one. be a good t.a. (Oh, I was. And they wanted me. What’s that, I’m power hungry? Never).
there’s lots more. but i need to stop just drowning myself. enough is enough. you have to live life anyway, and its gonna be fucking hard. but i might as well do something about it instead of waiting for the world to just turn me out of a pumpkin. (I have done that, slightly)
mark might be right about this. time to balls up and be a better person.”
No goals or resolutions or diddle for this year. Tarot reading, maybe. Life seems exciting, and possible. I am not going to commit to anything this year.