Friday, September 23, 2005
I've put about 10 seconds of thought into this and I've decided to write my own horoscope for today.
I've mentioned before that I'm fascinated by religion, but I'm fascinated by train wrecks too, and I don't plan to get involved in either one any time soon. It's not that I don't want to believe, it's just that I'm so hard-core practical that my brain won't shut off and let me. I've always been that way. My parents claim that on Christmas Eve the year before I turned 3, I came up to them and said, "Let's get this straight, there's no Santa." Mom said all she could tell me was, "You're right honey, but please don't tell your older sisters. You'll ruin their Christmas." When Mom tells that story, I remind her that no 2 year old talks like that. She swears I did.
So I was a child prodigy at cynicism.
I don't believe in horoscopes any more than I believe in fortune cookies, but that doesn't take the fun out of willfully misinterpreting their contents. The trick, as everyone knows, is to add "between the sheets" to your fortune cookie saying.
Someone writes horoscopes, and I've decided that it might as well be me. After all, who has a better grip on what I need to hear? I thought about warning myself to beware of low-flying butterflies, or even chaos theory type butterflies flapping their wings in Asia and causing hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico, but I want a practical, no-nonsense good fortune.
Therefore, for Capricorns like me, the outlook for today is that I will come up with an incredible story for a lesbian science fiction anthology, the person reading my novel will e-mail me with a "I couldn't put it down, you're the greatest writer ever" message, my lotto ticket will be the sole winner of a huge jackpot (I'm not greedy. 37 million should cover my needs), and when I walk through my front door tonight, my SO will be safe at home - between the sheets.