Libra 4° (September 26)

Woke up at 1AM. This is not a typo. Watched yet another entire season of yet another show, thinking I would fall back but this did not happen. So I just got up and started working, cleaning, going to the dump. I was up so late last night too, which means I had about two hours sleep. I precooked a whole bunch of food and then made myself delicious tofu steaks with miso, ginger, carrot and scallion. So at least I don’t have to pull much kitchen duty today. The Cape is more crowded than I ever remember it being in September. The people are pushy and awful—so many New York and Connecticut plates—even going to the dump is a stresser. But I am not letting any of it get me down. Countdown to my birthday I am truly going to enjoy this coming year and by focusing on wellness first. I feel I am truly ready to do this, and when I say this I mean: I’ve really lived and let live and now I’m fully back in my school shoes. And I have shortened the amount of time that I need to stay chained to a desk. In fact I shall not be chained. I will work for five hours in the morning and have a late breakfast, and then the rest of the day can be for other things, many of which I have in works. I wrote out some more ideas on the tv front but also on the wiki project. It’s an ongoing thing. S. returned and we unpacked groceries cracked some birthday wine and I made a delicious mean of ginger salmon and spicy haricot verts. I have been all about the food these last couple of days and I see nothing wrong in that. There is a lot below so have a good time reading.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 896-900. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

I honestly feel sometimes, as we likely all do,  as if I’m born under an unlucky star. I would much rather have no opportunities than false ones, dangled in front of me, getting my hopes up only to have them dashed. I didn’t ask for the great assistance I was supposedly being given. It was offered. And I suppose I’m supposed to feel bad for having waited patiently for six months while people mull over the proposed work I handed over to them, only to have some great conference call, long-awaited, being just one more Unfortunately….

The whole reason I left the business of managers and lawyers and agents who lie for a living was so I didn’t have to feel this way. But the most incredible seeming opportunity lands in your lap, an offer really, let’s be frank. So you say okay. And then half a year later it’s turned into an excuse to wield some power of rejection. I never asked for it in the first place. People are freaking sadistic they really are. And what? I’m supposed to comfort myself with some belief in karma that they’ll get theirs? I’m not sure it works that way. Sometimes good things continue to happen to bad people. And this is exactly why I took myself out of the game: I am nobody’s reject. I am nobody’s victim of whim or avoidable circumstance. I decided long ago not to be led up some garden path. But you figure it’s such a close friend presenting you with the opportunity. And a very good friend indeed who shall remain so—not their fault. And what were we supposed to do? Say no to the opportunity. But how these things get turned around is beyond me. I just don’t want this sort of energy in my life as I did nothing to invite it. So I must just as easily let it fall to the wayside.

Meanwhile I’m mostly pissed off that I will lose another day to upset. I waited six months for a call to discuss the opportunity but instead the call was to dash it. Did not see that coming. And now I’m so upset I can’t even focus on the work that is at hand. My own work. The work nobody assigns me. The work I do for myself. Because I am a self-sufficient person who has never been really worked for anyone nor been on any kind of assistance nor had anyone give me any handouts. I have been working a job since I’m fourteen years old. And, like my father once said in the handful of praiseful things I remember him saying: “you live by your wits”. He meant that as a compliment.

Oh well live and learn; this too shall pass; insert cliche here. At least now there is no sense of being beholden. And, as is my blessing/curse, I already see the bright side. But I’m bone weary of wear from this emotional running raggedness, which is only the result of sloth. Still that bright side of not feeling pressured or to owe anyone anything. I have what I need and to have more or less is a choice. I don’t owe you or anyone anything.

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Holy Crap. It’s been over 90 Blagues since I’ve written and (if you know me at all) I will hoe the tough road of filling in each and every one. I may “cheat a bit” but not really because I would only be cheating myself. I have to learn to love to write again. Today is actually Capricorn 12° not Libra 12° so, yeah, I’m 90 days and Blagues “behind”. So behind in fact that I hadn’t checked to see what it is I last wrote. Only to discover….no the fuck wonder I haven’t written this Blague in over 90 days. Holy Fawke. It was the day I learned of a certain rejection that sent me off this particular rail. However, in the meantime I did write an entire new show for performance and twelve year ahead horoscope books for 2018. Not to mention the fact I took a trip to Europe and I’m currently now on a boat somewhere off Grenada. Coriacou I think the island is called. So I now revist this Blague, full circle and will italicize new bits I’m writing whilst leaving unitalicized and bits and bobs I managed to quickly type into the word document I keep as home base for formulating my ideas before cutting and pasting them onto the site you’re reading. It is January 3, 2018 and I’m full of cautious intention. Last year I spent that first whole full week of 2017 writing a book proposal which has not seen any real light of day. I am actually “giving myself another year” to accomplish that which I wanted to see take root last year. Come March 20 I will start my fourth? fifth? year of Blague. (I’ll find out which and get back to you) and I have plans on that score as well. Anyway the following bit is what I had as a placeholder here for this day, October 12, 2017:

Russell Brand has been working his book tour. The title of the book is Recovery subtitled Freedom from Addictions. Okay where to begin. I like Russell (and not just because I hear he is a fan of our work). But because he has an astounding way of communicating and a extraordinary breadth of knowledge on which he draws. I don’t really know his comedy but I will call him a genius, a word I reserve for reals (many people say that but throw that word around wantonly). He has a genius mind. You see it in the way it works. And yet, hmmmm. Many celebrities have been and are in recovery. They keep it personal and don’t exploit it. And along comes Gemini Russell Brand who is genius at expressing himself and, in this case, reinterpreting the twelve steps for…the masses?

Now I have always thought that it shouldn’t be something to capitalize upon—ones own recovery—but I guess if anyone can pull it off he can. Everyone I know who has read the book loves it. I might get around to reading it myself this year.

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I was looking forward to the upcoming trip: I don’t know what’s on my mind but I know I have to get the costumes ready for the Scotland party. People typically speak in present tense when recalling a past dream. If I were to look back on this week on a calendar, I would see that on October six, I was in New York, staying at the Marlton, meeting clients, days after Stella performed her show, Birth of the American Baroness, at Dixon Place.

It was very warm in early October, I was reeling from some events that entwined personal feelings with professional aims, mainly thwarted. I was happy to be in New York and even happier to have a bit of time to myself to sort out sadder feelings and indulge more desirious ones, which is always fun. It is always a balancing act for we Libras for whom certain enlightenment always comes at a cost, be it material or friendly relational.

I was so proud of Stella for putting on yet another grand incarnation of her piece and was so happy that synchronicity brought her good friend Griet from Belgium to NYC for that night by gum. Also in the house were new friends who flew down from Toronto and a heartwarming array of fellow performers, mainly women, who came out to show support. We ended up in our hotel suite with the Toronto pals dancing into the wee hours. So much fun, but not so much the next day when having to drive back to Massachusetts. Funny to think that just three weeks later we would be on a flight to London. I had a dozen ebooks to prepare for publication. But mainly, as I recall, I worked with clients and took daily beach walks—all October was beautiful—collecting debris for our party constumes.

(Note: That which is in ital is being written at a much later date then when this above Blague was originally meant to appear. That which is unitalicized were notes I jotted at the actual time to trigger me into writing something on that day. Over 90 days total went by where I didn’t publish Blagues. I’m guessing that some time late January 2018 I might “catch up” to myself.)

Working on Gemini book on the weekend. Found out Stella went to high school with Johni Marchinko which is a really fun name. And speaking of “Will & Grace” there have been good and bad episodes, back to back; but on the whole the show is on the up. It’s fast and furious. Rosario’s death was so sad and so funny.

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Book writing is something I have always had mixed feelings about. It is one of the hardest things a person can do and I feel the all-too-familiar pain in my viscera even speaking about it. One must devise a way to begin; and so I think it best to just begin, now, as the ball is rolling, that is to say be writing a book at all moments. I should not wait to start writing. The Cosmic Blague this year will focus on a fortnight per gender sign, as I read through Sextrology and share my insights. Almost like a radio and/or podcaster. Wait a minute, I could do a bi-weekly podcast and discuss my findings. I could make a schedule. Surfing how to set up a podcast goes to the top of the to-do list.

I can promise you, Self, that we are nearly so-called caught up to ourSelves and feeling the creative juices flowing. Why just this morning at 3:33 you were thinking a myriad things, while lying awake in the cold Cape Cod dark; for instance, how the term content creator can be read two ways. Making that a mantra moving forward. It’s actually February 4, 2018 so it’s fun to stumble upon the previous paragraph written this actual day in Libra, to find yourself doing something you’d have hoped you would. And, anyway, we are damned good writers and good thinkers and we want to make spirits bright. I know that sounded like the title of a Christmas show, but I have so much better than ever a one for this year’s performance.

Typing italically can be quite liberating, sometimes in the moment; especially when you’re in the mood or mode for the sound of the words and their placement to be a pleasing thing, your fingers just typing all the letters, errorlessly, into the white space in a flow of rhythm. Fun. It’s Sunday and I’ve been teatotalling and otherwise treating myself like a new-born baby, to which one must be wont. It’s a good time of year for it. But let’s reflect back on this actual day, Libra 15°, early October, Stella Starsky performed at Dixon Place, and we returned to Cape Cod for two weeks time before our four weeks away in the UK and France. We were collecting marine debris from the Wellfleet beaches and working them into costumes we were to wear at a fancy dress party in Scotland just post Halloween. I wasn’t dealing well with the social clime, neither am I still. Now, though, I feel the stemming tide.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. 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 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.