Aquarius 26° (February 15)


Today we are going to talk about all of it…and doing so might spill over into tomorrow. I will be writing the equivalent of three Blagues a day to “catch up” by March 3 when I see John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask (and Amber!) in their Boston appearance of the Origin of Love show. But what has happened to me between today, somewhere between February 15 and March 3? Good question. Well last you saw us we arrived to help out someone who was undergoing a procedure. We learned in the days after that some existing pardigms had shifted very far in one direction due in large part to one individual. That individual doesn’t read so I’m in no danger of giving anything away—I learned that lesson when I accidentally put the name Erin Markey into my Blague, once, instead of initials or some petname as I typically do (I’m assuming, Erin, that you Google yourself or how else would you have found this Blague in the first place lol! Love you. Mean it!).  Remember when you had to hit the space bar twice to signal the end of a sentence?  Well here I am both doing the best I can and also fucking up more than I ever have. I have notables in my midst and sometimes it’s a challenge not to fall into beta mode. Thing is, I might very well be a beta. I would tend to be in same-gender situations as I’m only attracted to those who are more alpha than I. Otherwise what’s the point? I think females make the best femmes, not to say that a slew of males who are so inclined don’t individually debunk that generality. I actually wouldn’t know. There are so many things now as an adult, so many “guy things” that I wish I had been taught. The irony being that my own father shunned me because I wasn’t interested in his particular macho things when I was three years old and thereafter—boxing, American football, base/soft-ball—but he was an asshole. And I can say that because: I tried my whole life with him to find a common ground and he was, despite very good qualites, a terrorist eighty-five percent of the time. The bad qualities of my father were further embodied, one-hundred and fifty per cent by his daughter.


(Actual) today I noticed someone had tagged me on social media with a portrait of The Fallen Angel by some artist from 1898 or 1868  ( I don’t have the information in front of me and I’m not in the habit of going to look for things as such). Anyway I expalined that Lucifer (light bringer) is akin, archetypally to Apollo who challenged Zeus and also got “cast down” Zeus. We have not fully gotten into any of the myths pertaining to anybody but we all know (we all know) that the messages are there and ready to be said. And that we are the queen/queans to do it. Don’t you think? So anyway, I’m here to fill in since I got derailed on Valentine’s Day. There is a certain brand of narcissism that makes even other’s challenges about them; coupled with that, there are those for whom certain challenges aren’t actually dramatic or tragic enough so they embellish, bringing would-be tragedy into the plot even though it is entirely made up. Then, on a day when would-be scenarios should be happily avoided, it’s almost as if they wanted bad news. So they invent more problems. And you get away with murder when nobody is looking. But sometimes these sick people, who also tend to be quite stupid, pick on the wrong people. And they won’t know it  until they wake up at some point some morning weeks or maybe months from now to realize, hey, where’d Quinn go? Another good question. I hope the answer is: in Paris or Venice or some such. (Actual) today is a real turning point, the details of which I can’t yet get into.

We consoled G. this morning at 5am; and it took exactly two seconds to snap her out of crying. Then we played for a few hours and S. took her to school. I stayed in to write but the dog was acting really weird. It was hiding under my feet, tail between leg, shaking, eyes imploring balls of coal blackness. The walker had taken her out earlier; by the time she came again we chatted about how weird she was acting, the dog that is. And the walker agreed but took her out anyway for a short spell. The dog was still shaking and hiding under the hallway bench where all the shoes were. I mentioned to S and G when they returned. But soon the inlaws arrived. They had had a hard day as they attended, with S., a dear friend’s funeral. But I think they were so happy that they had good news that day from the hospital—we all were. Except, seemingly for one person, who arrived home after eight in a mood, a bad one, which he took out mainly on my beleagured inlaws which was not only mean and wrong it was so ungrateful and unspiritual it took every fiber of my being not to read the riot act. But I held my tongue. Until now when I choose to vent albeit masquedly. I’ve decided that’s a word.


To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols cluminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days. 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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