My son who is 8, in en route to New York. Unfortunately his Jetblue plane was 23 hours late last I heard. However, he got on the news.

In a bit of synchronicity, the soldier’s son who lives in another country will also be in New York at the same time… we have no idea what to make of this.

In the meantime, my daughter and I are on the Mercury Retrograde road heading to see the soldier and having follies galore. For example we have been locked out of our hotel room not once but twice this morning and although we know we are in Nebraska, we have no idea if we are headed to Iowa or Illinois, though we’re pretty sure it’s one of those.

And you?

I returned my rental car on Sunday and got a ride to the airport from a grinning, wisecracking, pontificating Sagittarius. He kept saying, “The way I see it, blah, blah, blah…” And,”I figure, blah, blah, blah…”

I liked him though. He was tall, super skinny and amusing and I decided en route to double my standard tip in appreciation of the entertainment. And then this:

“It’s always the business guys who show up late. I had a guy the other day, he showed up late and he was so rude. He came right up to me and said, you better get me to the airport immediately!”

“Immediately?” I asked. “How are you supposed to do that? Beam him like Star Trek?”

“Yeah. I was supposed to get him there immediately. And hey. I have no problem with someone being late and needing me to rush. I’m happy to do the best I can. But this guy? He was rude.”

“Sounds like.”

“So you know what I did?”

“What?”

“I dropped him off at the wrong side of the terminal. Yep. I dropped him as far as I could from where he needed to be. I figured to hell with him. Pulled over, got his bags, said have a nice flight! He got right in my face and I don’t have to put up with that shit.”

Sitting behind him, I smirked. And I still double tipped him. After all, I got this story didn’t I?

This is great! John and Susan Townley on where to vacation, by sign.

Here’s a sample. I’ll use Scorpio since you all won the sun sign poll… and handily.

John and Susan write:

Scorpio: Spain. Dark-eyed flamenco dancers, mysterious Don Juans, underground dungeons of the Inquisition, deep red wines, Gypsy fortunetellers, all mark the brooding, passionate Scorpionic quality of Spain — even its opposite sign, the Bull! We haven’t an argument with that creature, though, so we’d rather dig into a tasty paella with shrimp and shellfish fresh from the Bay of Biscay washed down with sangria and a chaser of Spanish brandy, sweeter and smoother than French Cognacs. Try a simple repast of Seville oranges and other excellent local fruit. Torrid tete-a-tetes in a Madrid cafe about epitomize the mood, but there’s a light side, like Antonio Gauidi’s sand-castle architecture, and a glorious side, like the Alhambra, a treat for the eyes and the spirit. Or, if you have that Scopio urge to just lay out in splendid self-indulgence, the Mediterranean beaches are paradise en Espanol. And don’t forget who sent Columbus on his way — you can get into exploration mode on replicas of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria in several different versions and locations! Lady Scorps will want to take home some sultry Spanish lace, but guys might rather collect a Toledo blade or two, still some of the finest edged steel in the world. Steely, dark-edged and passionate, the Scorpio world of Spain.

~~
Check it out!

Heavenly Vacations — Go There, Live There By John Townley and Susan Wishbow Townley

*Dirty Word Alert*

I read poetry on the plane which was a first. I read Leonard Cohen’s, "Energy Of Slaves", or bits of it is more accurate. Because it’s the kind of book you have to put down. The words are so powerfully evocative you have to set the thing down and think about what you just read, at least I do. It’s my plane version of turning off the lights and lying down on the couch, I guess. Because I would read a page or two, then set the book in the seat pocket and close my eyes.

And it was not just the words, but the astrology. Many of the poems in that book were written when Uranus and Pluto were conjunct… the late 60’s this is. So the book is like a time capsule on that level. Uranus and Pluto conjunct marked the sexual revolution among other things. And I don’t know about you. But when someone says their music is not merely naked, but open-legged, like a cunt, which Cohen does in this book… well I just have to stop right there, put the book down and think about what I just read. Because, I mean come on. Reading that is like running head on into a train.

And this is one heck of way (recommended) to fly across a country. Because the seat back in front of you is boring and this other is just so consuming.

And in contrast, I was sitting next to a Navy man. He’d just graduated boot camp and was scheduled to leave for Italy on Valentine’s Day. And he was so young. Too young for my book, I thought. He was pimpled.

And I thought it ironic he was leaving Colorado for Italy, sitting next to an Italian woman on what would be his last domestic flight for three years, and I told him so. “I’m here so you can get used to people who look like me,” I said. I noticed a boot drawn on his hand in pen and I am so stupid…

I am so stupid I thought it must have to do with boot camp. You know. Some kind of ritual. They get out of boot camp and draw a boot? Who knows. This stuff is foriegn to me and it was only several days later I realized it was Italy that he’d drawn on his hand. Hah!

But anyway, the Navy man was not alive when Leonard Cohen wrote his brave, dirty poems and sitting on the plane thinking this, Snoopy smiled.

Do you read when you fly? If so, do you have a preference, what?

Skip to May.. The Soldier and P at the Laundromat

Briiinnnnng! Briiiiiiiiinnng!

“Hello?”

“My plane is boarding,” I said.

“I’m on my way to the airport.”

“You are?” I was surprised. “You’re going to make it?”

“Yeah.”

“How will I find you?” I asked.

“You won’t. I’ll find you.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.”

“Why is that?”

“I dressed. I’ll be the only one who looks like I came in on a doghouse. Just look for the flying ace. For the stylish dog.”

*click.

~~

I value experience over anything. Anything. I don’t even care if the experience is good or bad. It only matters that the experience is as acute, over the top and/or as singular as I can possibly manage and I do everything I can to facilitate this.

And because of this, the people around me have enhanced experience as well. I mean you’re only going to pick up Snoopy at the airport, once. And you can see how this sets the whole tone of the trip.

What do people get when they run with you? And where is Jupiter in your chart?

Skip to Ugly Pants - Episode 4, Astrology, Travel, Poetry…

On the subject of cultural differences, Miss Cilantro… who outed herself on the last blog and I discussed the difference between what we do, or would like to do when we visit a new city. She, being Korean liked to see all the sites. Allllll the sites! So being my hostess, she was standing by ready to research and make the most of my trip and I just had no clue how to take advantage of this kind of grace.

It’s not that I didn’t understand. And I certainly appreciated her offer. It’s just that I am so different. I am pretty much completely visceral and I struggled to explain. I couldn’t quite get it said… how it did not matter in the least, what we did or where we went, but yesterday I was writing, HQ and it crystallized for me.

I told him I could be standing in front of the Eiffel Tower and I would surely look at it, but what I would most aware of is the energy of the person standing next to me. That and how the air or the sun or the chill felt on my skin or the side of my face and this is a fact.

So in the case of Miss Cilantro… well she has five planets in Scorpio so am I happy or what? I’m in the room with a force of nature.

And their cat was all over me. The one who hates everyone, especially non-Asians. So if you think about that and understand me at all, you can imagine how happy I was. I was thinking about the cats in my past and the wine in my glass, feeling totally blissful and all beneath the wire.

When you go to a new city, what do you like to do? And do you think your culture influences this?

I use Saturn Neptune techniques with my children all the time. I would! And themes run in families so it’s no surprise my daughter has Neptune in Capricorn (Saturn ruled) in mutual reception with her Saturn in Pisces (Neptune ruled). My son has a Saturn square Neptune, so basically we are a family of suggestible fairies and I’ll give you some examples of how that works.

I was flying home from Mexico with my daughter when she was about five or six. We hit some pretty serious turbulence and she became frightened. Actually, she is naturally very high strung, so she became extremely frightened.

“Give me you hand,” I said to ground her. “And look at me.”

She complied.

“I want you to imagine the airport back home. Can you see it?”

“Yes.” She was staring at me with Scorpio rising, Pluto conjunct intensity in pure terror..

“And when we get off this plane, what are we going to do? We’ll get our bags, right?”

“Right.”

“Can you see the baggage carousel? Can you see us leaving with our bags? Imagine (Neptune) it (reality, Saturn).

“I see it,” she said nervously.

“Okay, so do I. I see that too. So this is how we know this plane doesn’t crash. There will be no plane crash. Now if you couldn’t imagine that, then we may need to be worry, but we can see it clear as day, right? Can you see us leaving the airport?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. And we look fine in the vision, right? We’re not upset?”

“Nope. We’re just getting our bags on one of those carts…” she said, calming.

“Okay! Well that’s the reality. That’s exactly what’s going to happen so you may as well enjoy this turbulence as part of our adventure.”

At this point her fear (Saturn) had dissolved (Neptune) completely.

“It is kind of fun,” she said. “Bumpy.”

“Well I’m not surprised you like it. It’s actually a bonus adventure on the way home,” I told her 9th house Moon trine Jupiter in Sagittarius. “We travel and this is part of it.”

But she’d quit listening by then. Gemini Sun, she’d picked up a magazine and started to read.

Read more -> Parenting Redux

Airplane follies? Yeah. Okay, I’ll tell you what happened.

I was seated next to this business guy. You know. A suit. Now at the time, I thought his clothing indicated he was important, but you know that didn’t stop me. I turned to him and started babbling. I told him it was my first time on a plane and stuff. I don’t think he was sure about that at first but believe me, I convinced him eventually.

He started out kind of irritated and with cause. Because I was really excited about this experience and I had lots to say. I was chattering the way I do, and it must have seemed a bit of an assault. But eventually I had him pretty amused. I told him I was going to Michigan to get laid, for example.

Now I know this is commonplace with the Internet these days, but back then it innovative and eventually he became engrossed in my story.

“Where in Michigan?” he asked.

I held up my hand, the way my boyfriend had showed me and pointed near the tip
my index finger, facing my thumb. “Here,” I said.

“Oh. Well it’s nice up there.”

“Right. That’s what he says,” I beamed.

“Does he want you to move there? To be with him? Does he want to marry you?”

“Yeah. Yes he does,” I said. “I think so.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m finding out. I’ve never been there. Right now, I’m just going to get laid and look around. And then, I’ll see. I mean, how am I supposed to know if I want to live there or not? I have to go there and see how it is.”

He looked at me oddly. “Well if you love him, and you want to marry him, then you will have to go to where he is.”

“No I won’t. Why can’t he move to where I am? It’s cold in Michigan, right? He doesn’t like it. That’s why he comes to the desert every winter. So maybe he can just move there forever.”

“What if he doesn’t like the desert heat?”

“Well we don’t know, do we? We don’t know if he likes the heat, or if I like the cold. But we like to screw, for sure!” I said, laughing. He laughed too.

“So you’re going to Michigan to screw some man?” he asked.

“Right! That’s what I said.”

“So you did,” he nodded. “So you did. Well it sounds like he has some money. Maybe you can live in Michigan in the summer and spend the winter in the desert.”

I nodded back. I hadn’t thought of that. I hadn’t thought of living two places, or about whether or not my boyfriend had money. I had so many problems with my own money; I never worried about other people’s. It was outside my scope. Everyone had more money than me. I knew that and it was of no consequence.

“Yeah!” I said. “Hey. That’s a good idea. Um…I have to pee.” I laughed.

But I’ll tell you something. I didn’t really have to pee. I wanted to pee. I wanted to see a plane restroom, actually, just because I was there. I was on a plane and I just wanted to see all the sights.

“Er… They’re in the back,” he said. “Can you find them?”

“I don’t know. I think so. Are they hidden? Is it tricky?” I asked with a snort.

He chuckled. “No. There are signs,” he said smiling.

“Okay, good. I’ll follow them!” I said.

Well, I’ll tell you, the whole thing intrigued me. I thought it was sort of a puzzle and as I walked towards the back of the plane, it happened. A habit of a lifetime formed.

I never fly anywhere without using the restroom on the plane because it hit me on the way that afternoon, that I was moving while I was moving and I thought this the coolest phenomena going. I still think this, and I never miss a chance to experience this sensation but anyway, I found the restroom with no trouble.

So I was sitting in there with my skirt up and thinking, “If my friends could see me now”. That and reading. You know. I was reading all the little signs. I was absorbing and this is when it happened. Someone barged in on me.

Oh fuck!

They pulled the door shut with a slam, but not before I caught a glimpse of a man in white shirt, who shouted to me, “You’re supposed to lock the door!”

Oh fuck. Uh…never mind. I already said that, didn’t I?

So I was just sitting on the toilet there, mortified. Was he right? Was it my fault? And then I saw it. The door instructions were right there. They were right there on the knob at eye level. Oh brother. The guy was right. I felt like such a putz. He didn’t walk in to me! I was as supposed to lock the door. Crap!

Well, I was so embarrassed, I thought about staying in there forever which of course would not work, so I clutched it up and left the restroom blushing.

I walked back to my seat with my eyes straight ahead so I would not see the man who saw me, but you know what happened don’t you?

Right. It was my seatmate that walked in on me. And believe me; I’d have never known this if he did not explain door-locking to me when I sat down. I’d have never recognized him, because to me at the time?

Well all those white business guys look alike. Everyone knows that.

Here is a Jupiter / Sagittarius / Travel story for pure amusement. It’s true of course. Jupiter rules the truth! Jupiter rules storytelling for that matter. And travel, planes, what you believe, bluntness etc. all of which are prominent in this bit, which is clipped from the middle of a much longer story…

I was working in an old man’s bar. I met a man from out of state, who was in town for the summer, and we took up in passionate fashion.

He was a guy who liked to go, so that is what we did. We went here and we went there. He was a hip guy, so I was a hip girl at least for the summer, in a Jim Morrison sort of way, just by standing next to him. Two months passed in a whirlwind, and then he left for home, and there I was.

Well, I always knew he was leaving. I’d never lost sight of this. The old guys in the bar were protective of me and did not let that happen, but I was still nineteen and there was some drama and a fair amount of angst. And in the end?

Well he went home to Michigan and after he did, we spoke on the phone. We wondered if we should take steps to be together. We spoke a few times, and he had been home a few weeks when he called and invited me to Michigan to visit him and meet his family. He’d told them about me and he said he wanted me to move there to be with him. His whole family did.

Michigan, huh? Well, I’d never been on a plane, so I was both exhilarated and scared.

“That’s a long way to go for a piece of ass, Elsa.” That’s what the old guys at the bar said, but what do they know?

My boyfriend was 26. Time to settle down! He said the word “married” which was pretty fascinating to me in a fairy tale sort of way. What nineteen year old girl doesn’t like a fairy tale, anyway? It was definitely something to contemplate, you know?

And he was going to buy my ticket, which sort of flipped me out. It seemed this incredible amount of money at the time. It was just an overwhelming sort of gesture in my mind. Me? Me, the little desert rat on a plane? That’s the kind of thing I thought. I really didn’t think I belonged on a plane but in the end, my innate desire for adventure and sex won out. I told him that I would come, but it wasn’t easy.

See, I’ll tell you how poor I was. The ticket cost more than I made in a month, for starters! But when the old guys told me to pack a sweater…well, this is when I really started to sweat.

“A coat?” I asked. “Bring a coat?”

“No. It’s summertime. But you’ll need a sweater in the morning. Or when you go out
in the evening.”

“A coat?” I repeated.

See, I didn’t have a sweater. I was so poor and all. I was supporting my mother and all that. I was totally in the land of Goodwill clothes and a sweater, like a purse, was not a must have item. If it was cold I put on a coat. If it was kind of cold, I either put on a coat, or just felt kind of cold. I didn’t know any different from this.

“No. You don’t need a coat, but you will need a sweater. Don’t you have one?” asked one of the old guys.

“No,” I said. I felt like I was going to cry.

“Well you’ll have to get one.”

“Are you sure?”

“That you need a sweater in Michigan? Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll get one, then,” I said.

I believed them, but I wondered how I was going to pay for it. I crossed my fingers and hoped I could find one for three or five dollars. I hated Goodwill. I hated shopping, period. I sure as hell didn’t have the money for it.

I wondered if I should write my boyfriend and tell him that I couldn’t go, but that’s not what happened. What happened, is I got a sweater for three dollars and I got on the plane.

To be continued.

skip to Jupiter Story - Part Two

It doesn’t work out. She can’t get the address of the SML because there is no SML.

“Well, how do you like that?” she said. “Now what?”

“Kathy, I don’t think it matters what. We can get coffee anywhere. Just drive.”

“Okay, Elsie. I’ll drive,” she said, grinning. “Where do you want to go? We can go…should we go to Broadway?”

“Sure!”

“What’s there?” she asked.

“Freakish people,” I said. “People who wear weird shit because they like to be seen. Er… people your age go there and…”

“Piercings?” she asked.

“Yeah. Whatever they can think of,” I said. “To make people see them. Let’s go. That’ll be fine with me…”

She waves her hand, no. “Or we could go downtown,” she said. “Want to go downtown?”

“Sure,” I said. “Ok, downtown.”

“How about I turn here?” she asked, indicating a side street nowhere. “Want to go down this street?”

“No. Nothing there. Turn if you want, but no coffee…”

“Okay, Elsie.”

We wind up going backwards down 6th. Or whatever it was. She was talking the whole time of course. As we zoom by place after place after place. I keep my mouth shut and next thing you know, we’re back on Speer.

“Boy Elsie,” I don’t know. I really wanted to go the SML…”

On that I lost it. “Of for godsakes, Kathy, what is it with you? Fuck the SML! Listen. If you keep driving this fucking car…if you don’t pull over sometime soon, I am not going to want coffee! What I’m going to want is a drink! Two of them!” I said.

She roared.

“I mean it! What are you? Some sort of Asian over-achiever?”

She roared.

“You are, aren’t you? You’re an Asian over-achiever and you meant to find the coffee shop and damnit, you are not going to fail!”

She roared. “I am!” she said. “I am an Asian over-achiever,” she said, grinning.

“Well, great! Some of us just pull over and eat any burrito we see! Doesn’t have to be the SML burrito for chrissakes! Just a burrito! And I can see this is going to be the end of burrito eating for me, if I’m going to hang with you!”

She laughed. I noticed the sexual innuendo but kept it to myself.

“And you aren’t going to let this go, are you? I bet you go home and look that fucker up on the internet. I bet you research. You’ll make calls.”

“I will do that,” she said.

“I know!” I bellowed.

“I’ll get on the internet,” she said. “I’ll try to find…”

“I know,” I bellowed again. “And you’ll find that fucker and call me up! Okay Elsie! Heeeeey Elsie! Remember that place we were going to try? Well, I found out where it is. So we can go now…”

She roared. “I probably will do that,” she conceded.

“Well, that’s fine. But right now let’s go somewhere else, do you mind?”

“We’ll go downtown.” She announced.

We’d decided to go Maggiano’s because I had some cash left on a gift card.

“I got pissed off at a car dealership,” I said (Mars/pissed, Car/Mercury.) “I called them a bunch of fucking fuckers and they gave me this card.” I explained. “To shut me up,” I added. “So we won’t have to pay! They can pay,” I said.

“Sounds good, Elsie!” she said, beaming. “Great!”

Five minutes later we were stuffing coins in the parking meter, and then we headed towards the pedestrian mall.

“Which way?” she asked, stopped at the curb of the 16th street mall.

“I have no idea. I don’t get out. Let’s try this way,” I said. “If we don’t see it, we’ll turn back.”

We walk three blocks. No Maggiano’s. ‘Think it’s further up?” she asked.

“Probably,” I said.

“I’m going to call,’ she said, pulling out her cell phone.

I just shook my head. Like I said, I’m from another generation.

“That’s it. Get your device out, Kathy…” She smiled and I thought it was more sexual innuendo on my part. I amuse myself like this all the time. Meanwhile, the gal on the phone could not tell her how to get to the restaurant, even though we were a block away.

“Shit!” she said.

“Just get the number,” I said, “Or ask them is it East or West from Welton,” I said, glancing up to check the street sign.

But no. The girl could come up with the info. She gave a cross street though, so I walked over, grabbed a map so we could figure it out the low tech way.

“Er…this way,” we said in unison.

Next thing you know, we’re seated on the patio at Maggiano’s as hoped for.

‘We’re here, Elsie! She said brightly. “It sure is a nice day! Not too hot…not too cold…

I reached for my margarita and sucked half of it down. Damned chick. “I’m going to have the waiter take our picture, okay? “Even though it’s embarrassing since you’re Asian.”

We both snort. A few minutes later, the waiter snaps our pic and there we are. The moment frozen in time.