The Luck I've Had

In the past week, I held a modest gathering to thank my closest comrades for helping me through a vulnerable time, signed a lease on a gorgeous apartment with one of my favorite roommates ever, bought a hilariously dorky car that will hopefully get me reliably to all the places I want to be (with help from my dad, whose vocal and tangible support over the last year or so has been especially touching), and drove my charming bandmates and all our gear in said car to our first out-of-town show, where we were received warmly and paid more than enough for gas and road snacks.

Maybe it comes of being a Capricorn, but I tend to focus on the things I don't have, the problems I need to solve, the stuff I have yet to accomplish. I make lists, I pine, I analyze, I wear myself out.

Today I heard a Smiths song and laughed out loud with joy. (The Smiths have that effect on me quite a lot, actually.) As much as I relate to Morrissey's yearning, most of these lyrics don't apply to me. I have dreams all the time, and a lot of them do come true. Then I'm on to the next, bigger dream, almost without pause, the goat scrambling up the cliff. So it was nice to reflect for a moment, as Moz crooned longingly, on the sweetness of my life, which often feels like so much struggle and worry.

There's still so much I want, for myself and those around me, and stopping to see what's been achieved through the collective efforts of those I struggle alongside makes me want to keep climbing. Also, I want to find Morrissey and hug him.

Seventeen by The Smiths

Please, please, please let me
Get what I want. Lord knows it
Would be the first time.

This wagon is flaggin'.
(During our road trip, someone discovered his boxers were too long for his shorts.)
(Not me.)

Cold-Cocked by the Galaxy

I've had a shitty week. Car broke down, laptop broke down, I dropped my phone and shattered the screen, on-and-off migraines, and some super-stressful work situations.

I like when I can identify some external cause for my woes, especially when it's something over which I have no control. It allows  me to shake my tiny fist and just ride it out. Enter astrology.

So I started asking around, hoping to confirm my suspicions that the sky was to blame for my difficulties. Reports started coming in that I'm not the only one who's had a week from hell. And someone showed me this: the Grand Cross.

Basically, four planets are forming 90-degree angles in four cardinal zodiac signs, and the result is a cosmic shit-show. This has been going on since January and will continue into June, and we're coming up on the peak, where the cross is its squarest.

Oh, also a little thing called a blood moon eclipse. Apocalypse, anyone?

Haiku for the Solar System Being a Dick

Why is life a mess?
Stars and planets all aligned
Flipping me the bird

This is how planets say "Fuck you."

Earth, Wind, and Fire (and Ice)

Last night, a friend was talking about winter and how it's been so freaking hard. They were explaining how it's particularly bleak for certain signs, like fire signs ("Help, it's cold!") and even water signs ("Help, I'm stuck!").

Leaving on foot, I was struck by the feeling of my relatively thin-soled motorcycle boots (compared to my snow boots, which I've lived in for months) on bare pavement. I thought about my own earth sign and how I might be adapted or not to moving on frozen ground buried beneath ice and snow. I'm looking forward to connecting to my source again.

Haiku for an Earth Sign

Walking on water
'Til the ice melts, now I feel
Ground under my feet.

You had me at "subsolar equinoctial point."

Haiku for Autumn Equinox

Shadows get longer,
The moon starts to speak to me.
Fall is my lover.

www.themoonclock.com

Let me crochet about it and get back to you.

Last night, as I wrestled with an array of communication breakdowns, with that June supermoon blasting through my window, I started on the first few rows of what will be a very large sphere.

Haiku for a Super Moon

Capricorn full moon
Challenging my boundaries,
I'll crochet your ass.

Capricorns do it and then feel bad in the morning

I can only describe it as a kind of epic stoner brunch: Piles of food on the kitchen counter, piles of bodies on the LoveSac, slow-motion sledding into bramble bushes, Tarot readings on-site, getting home at supper time, and promptly falling asleep on the couch for two hours (instead of doing laundry).