Pisces (February 18 - March 19): Your thoughtful manner and loony sense of humor mask so much. Few suspect the warlock lurking just beyond that nurturing Pisces facade. Now, with aggressive Mars and the lucky sun hyping your travel house, the time has come to trot out the old trick-or-treat bag and go for it.
Sunday. So, I'm still hobbling about, but I'm thinking ahead, thinking, when this foot goes away, I'll wrestle less with this aching sinus-head thing and get on with whatever is happening. There are worse things than having your sinuses giving you grief. Combine them with immobility and I'm learning you may really have a problem. So, back on my feet pretty quick, back to mobility, and when I get back, get out and do the things I'm always carping about. That and perhaps work through the web sites, actually working as opposed to talking. But we drift off the road again, best to stop before we hit the ditch.
The usual breakfast at the usual café, by the way, nothing too different there. To bed last night before eleven, although I found myself waking up wide eyed a couple of times thinking what in the hell is happening? Could be the two naps yesterday, both of them for just over an hour. Sloth in the Land of Nod, the land across the bay from the end of the rainbow.
The horoscope is included from today's Chronicle not for any thought of accuracy (although I have a trip planned for next month), but for the fact it's cool. Warlock indeed. “Thoughtful manner and loony sense of humor.” Sounds good. A nice mask for Halloween I'm thinking.
I was also thinking, as I picked up my Chronicle on the way to breakfast this morning, that maybe the coming (they all say it's coming) recession will finally shake out the newspaper industry. None of them are doing well, I've heard The Chronicle is losing something like a million a month and The New York Times, which I have delivered during the week, is rumored to be on the block now that the members of the founding family have evolved another generation away from the founder. I do like to read the damned things, but I'm precisely the demographic that does anymore and my demographic is well on its way to hanging up its glasses in old folks’ homes.
Youngsters evidently don't read newspapers. Maybe some future model of the “download a book, download a paper” Kindle will replace presses and paper, made in some more relevant format that allows it to be spread out on a (breakfast) table. Fuck reading it from a three inch screen, they're bad enough with images. But again, just a thought, waiting for the elevator this morning with the paper. If this coming recession becomes what they're projecting, failing newspapers will not be first thing on anybody's mind. Except, perhaps, for mine.
My sister suggested I get a Facebook account. I've avoided most of the sharing sites, having gotten so far under the hood with this one, but I have been on Friendster since the turn of the century and have a Flickr account, although I've done very little with either. I see a number of our family members on Facebook, though, my sister pointing to a Variety review of our cousin Mr. P's son Scott whom you see in the picture terrorizing cast member Nakia Syvonne. After a negative review of the entire production and cast, Variety says: “One exception is Scott Palmason, whose Mr. Swordo rendition of "Insecurities" (ably backed by the Jenn & Jen vocal duo of Fenten and Packard) is a highlight of the show.” Scott, that's almost scary. Good luck, my man. Good going!