Scorpio 18° (November 10)


Didn’t have the fullest night sleep in Reading but it wasn’t too too bad. We had some Thai food last evening and ice cream and watched a little Leminy Snicket. And it was so good just to give in and hang around and take some baths. And also take our time getting out of here this morning. We still managed to leave around ten thirty or so and I was feeling fairly relaxed on the drive and then very much so. We had a late breakfast at one of our favorite places on the Cape, Sunbird, in Orleans, where we did a tiny shop and grabbed some Chinon for a send-off on the wine for the next week. We are vagabonds, we really are; and as such you either have to relax into it or bemoan it and seek to stay put more often. We need to fall more firmly into the first category. I had salt cod hash with fried egg; and the chef working is the son in law of farmer Jim where we live. It’s already very quiet here and I am once again confronted with the fact I have no friends, really, in the area. People don’t have friends though—this is something I’m coming to realize. As we get older we have our partners and rotating acquaintances but we don’t have the kind of close friendships we had in our youth except when we see those characters with whom we’ve managed to preserve said bond. Anyway, I’ve got to stop saying anyway.

Reading this back I realize it’s probably not true for many people. I find women have a better time at amassing friends as does the gay male population, community having been so determinative in their experience and evolution. For the more straight identified male, who is more loner by nature I suspect (it happens in nature as well) one must be forced all the more into communion. The bro mentality centers very much around sports or place of business or industry. Tradesmen, for instance, in this quasi-sleepy New England town in which I find myself might be loners in their individual jobs but on the whole, when gathered together for a beer or meeting at Cumbys or Dunks or wherever a plethora of pick-up trucks might be spotted, bond over their comeraderie within the field. And here I sit, day after day, alone here at my computer, waiting for the next client interaction, often my only human interaction, for weeks on end. All of this is about to change, I realize, to some degree as I return to city living; but that is just yet another natural landscape that is more populated by humans, whom I will see and in with whom transact, but only, really, to pay the check or apologize for taking up too much matt space in yoga, or with the odd tourist asking me questions I may or may not be able to answer.

So it was decided I should make a pasta—red onion, anchovy, carrot, pan-roasted tomatoes, oregano and parsley, some chicken stock. We had a cocktail of left over La Stoppa and some Chinon, and then waved wine bye bye for quite awhile. We caught up on a little TV but not even really. I think we mainly just spaced out in front of the fire. I’m not writing this à la minute in case you didn’t know. I wrote to Mark to connect about this season and next and did begin a good starter list of artists we could present. I have some fairly specific ideas about fundraising too. I need to get back to the twins. It will be whirlwind week and I’m trying to get my head around that before we head to New York. That should be fun though because we will see David Mills perform and we have three (male!) clients which I’m also excited about. I like some cock in our consultancy. I know that was crude but it does break things up a bit in an otherwise pussy driven private clientele. Again sorry but I just felt like putting it that way. And I am the only one reading this probably. Funny how, especially in the middle of the night or upon waking, when you still can’t be assed to get out of bed, you are flooded with ideas; and then when you head to your typey box so many of them scatter.


To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.


Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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