House of Money

I did not know there was a Zodiacal House of Money.  Perhaps this is why I am not rich.  Or there could be other reasons for that too.  Anyway, here’s what the stars are telling me on this 27th day of March.

Today the Moon enters your Zodiacal house of money, Taurus, and this month’s visit begins with a lot of financial activity. You’ll really have to be careful about spending, because the Moon forms an astrological pattern known as a T-Square that affects your financial axis, and the way it is situated in your Solar Chart, you’re more likely to let go of more money than you take in. Don’t get excited about any kind of speculative venture, and avoid spending on recreation or gifts for children or lovers.

HA!  You’re way too late with that financial advice my little astrological friends.  We’re comitted to the new furnace, I’m getting only holiday pay for a month, my shopaholic grandaughter is visiting, and I really really really needed that huge notepad with a picture of coffee on the cover and random coffee beans on every lined page, and the sparkly brown gel pen that came with it, so there’s really nothing I can do now about that very random purchase.  And there might have been a couple other ones in there that have conveniently slipped my mind.

There’s already Hunger Games merchandise at a few stores, and I could not resist purchasing the parody.  I read it last night, so if you’re looking for a much quicker less serious story, this one could be for you.

I’m not even kidding, I did not notice the dead mocking jay until I’d finished reading the book.  It’s a nice touch.  Again, I think you have to read the original book to appreciate this one and it’s warped humor.

The random word generator has prompted me to complete the sentence “Life is like……” using the following sets of words.

butterfly, concrete, paradise

pub, stars, dish

Rather than have my head hurt for longer than absolutely necessary, I’ll just use them all at once and get it over with.

Life is like a butterfly in paradise, flittering and fluttering high above the concrete, searching and reaching for the stars; and then somehow getting distracted by the local pub and a dish of peanuts and taking the night off from all that flitting around because seriously, the stars aren’t going anywhere, so what’s your rush.

That was deep.  I should try writing a philosophy book.  Maybe someone else could figure out the hidden meanings for me.  But I can’t start it today because I’m pretty sure that would come under the heading of ‘speculative ventures.’

And finally, as my dad always used to say, money is absolutely no good to you at all unless you spend it.  Mind you, I don’t remember him ever going on about the value of coffee note pads, but I’m sure he’d agree I’ll get more use out of that than I would from having a ten dollar bill just sitting there on my desk.  So life is good in spite of that ominous T-Square on my solar chart. Or maybe even because of it, who really knows.

Random Word Story

I like this kind of writing challenge – picking some random words and incorporating them into a story so that they don’t stand out in any odd-ball way.  Not as easy as it sounds, especially when the words at first appear to be completely unrelated to eachother.  I’ve used the Random Word Generator on www.creativitygames.net. and here’s what it gave me.

pocket, spit, nail varnish, telephone booth, gargoyle, stepsister

So here’s what you get.

Elise tucks some stray strands of her long red hair behind her ear and drives into the bright sunshine wearing the gargantuan sunglasses her stepsister Kate says make her look like some kind of giant bug.  She will never get a sunburn anywhere between her eyebrows and her cheekbones while she’s got them on, that’s for sure.  Her sensitive pale skin needs protecting from the sun, and so do her light blue eyes.  Sun damage and squint lines are probably completely foreign concepts to cute little dark haired Kate.         

The spa she’s headed for is very classy and modern, but it’s in a horrid old gothic buildling with two hideous gargoyle things hanging over the entranceway.  She zips her car into a cramped parking space off to the left of them where they won’t be staring at her with their ugly little faces.  She whips the car door open without paying attention, grabbing her bag, switching to her other glasses, shoving the keys into her pocket, clunking the passenger side door of the vehicle beside her.  What the hell, she shrugs.  Both cars are black, who’s going to notice if they’ve exchanged a bit of paint.  If there’s a scratch, a bit of spit and polish should take care of it.  She hopes.  She also decides not to look too closely at  it, or her own car door, because in situations such as this, ignorance is bliss.

Sitting high up on a vibrating chair with her feet in a tub of hot sudsy water is also pure bliss. She holds a magazine in her lap, but her eyes are closed and her head is tilted back on the rest and her mind empties of everything but the pressing matter of nail varnish color selection.  Purple?  One of those shocking vibrant reds, or maybe something weird like electric blue, or pineapple orange?  In the end she picks a boring coral, not too ostentatious, safe and ordinary.  It goes well with her safe and ordinary life and her boring personality she supposes.  The ugly stepsister color.  Maybe next time she’ll try one of those neon burgandy plum shades and her feet will look like theyr’e bruised and bleeding.  Right.  Maybe next time the gargoyles will fly off the buiding too.  

Elise is checking her messages on the way out when she hits a brick wall and her phone bounces out of her hands.  She bends down to retrieve it and notices that the brick wall is wearing tennis shoes, and his phone has gone flying too, and of course they bump heads and stagger backwards and appologize profusely to eachother.  Elise has backed herself into a phone booth she’s never noticed before.  My God, she thinks, do people still actually use those things?  This building is from the dark ages, with it’s gloomy foyer and narrow doorway where you can collide with some stranger who has obviously just had a massage because he’s got that faint red ring around his rather handsome face and hair that’s all messed up.  He holds the door for her and they head for their cars, which are parked side by side.  His has a small silvery dented scratch on the passenger side door and it sparkles in the sunshine.  She grabs her shades and shoves them on her face.  Messes around with her handbag and her keys and waits for him to leave first so that he won’t see her license plate number and report her for willful parking lot damage.  Never mind foyer head bonking.  

She is being paranoid and pathetic and Kate will laugh her ass off when she tells her about it.  And she’ll roll her eyes at the coral, no doubt about that.  Elise smiles to herself and starts her car.  The twin gargoyles stare distainfully into space as she drives away.