Pisces 13° (March 3)

Heartless. Sadistic. My hope is that the poor chicken, about which I can do nothing in the circumstances, fell comfortably asleep and froze to death without any pain. I can’t bear the thought of it suffering any longer. That was one of my awakening thoughts today. I’ve turned the corner and rejigged my schedule. Today I will continue to make inroads. And there are some things I want to accomplish—some bank balancing, going over sidebars and intro, getting the Public Theater stuff squared away. (The chicken lives and I saw fuckface’s sister feeding it so I give up.) Food prep is pretty much done. Now back to some revelations on healing and how to get this party started right. I was off to such a good start today, truly wuly was I. However, I got a vibe from S. and got a bit freaked out, which, given the fact I awoke at 2:45 am, resulted in some panic-attacking; nothing to terrible, but I don’t have bandwidth for the stress. Upon awaking, after trying to fall back without any drama, I decided to do a meditation which, as I realized, is pretty astrological, since it was a relaxation technique the went from head to foot. I kept naming areas of body, starting with the Aries ruled head, and worked my way down. And what I realized was that there were a gazillion things to relax, physically, just speaking about the head. Really specific things. Then I was working into the throat and there was this overlap of signs and then I started relaxing things like “sense of smell” and so forth and it dawned on me that there could be more figurative elements in these suggestions as I worked my way down, and other physical things to like blood and flesh and fat. When I got to throat I had to change my position because my soft palate actually relaxed so much it closed up the airway. I had this weird moment where I saw this child and when I asked who are you? my entire head was bathed in healing electric chills. I had this very resistant, tense pain up through my face and, breathing into it, my back cracked in the exact spot of one of my earliest accidents, falling downstairs, where I got the wind knocked out of me. I realized in the reverie that this was real but also metaphoric. Gemini could well be prana. Speaking of her I do need to get a move on with the chapter today but I guess I just wanted to say that this could be a book. A living book to which can be added ones own additions to “the script”, a guided meditation that you could read into a voice dictate and change daily. Allowing my words to become the reader’s words—this is a concept that made sense in the moment. Well I did a pretty thorough job on the first phase and I was working into the second and could do a bit more before moving into the third which I really want to do. That familiar panic that you’re going to forget ideas. But the fact is, with this one, that the ideas are all already there. I’ll report back with more of this tomorrow I imagine. Oh yes there was also a moment where something moved inside me on my lower left side, close to the haunches, and it made me jump, quite dramatically, off the bed. I think I have found something powerful; not to say that this guided meditation isn’t something that I used to do with regularity in my mid twenties because it is, quite exactly.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1676-1680. 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.

So we went out for a little sushi last night which was nice and got enough sleep I suppose. It snowed overnight so I had to go down and scrape off the car and we set out at a pretty decent hour. There was no traffic and it was a bit like driving inside a snow globe. We were meant to meet Alice at this tea today but we got a request to have lunch in J+N’s suite so we had to redirect. Got to the Pierre around noon and of course our suite was incredible. Life seems to offer wonderful things and terrible things all in the same day. We didn’t realize exactly what was lying in wait to ambush us this day but it would be devestating and the effects would last for days on end. Whenever we get broadsided like this I lose my ability to keep this Blague going. I have to say I’m at the end of my tether with this specific thing. I will have to address this whole thing at some point and I will figure out a way to do this I suppose. But then what happens is that I risk the relationship with the agent. I really feel that I’ve worked so hard on our relationships with the new folks at our publisher but something is dogging us. I am hiding the lead a little bit here perhaps but the fact is this day ends on quite a sour note (and then a little bit of silver lining). We quickly unpacked and then made our way over for lunch. We had brought a little bit of chocolate as a gift and were handed presents upon arriving that blew ours out of the water. Such is the way of things. We had a lovely lunch (Caesar salad for me) and then went and got ready to meet A. Just as we did S. said there is an email and it isn’t good news. Which it wasn’t. It seems the editor who kept us for two and a half hours wasn’t going to be offering us anything at all. We were so hoping everything would have been flushed out but instead things were rotten in Denmark. Macmillan: F,S+G, Picador, Thomas Dunne. S+S: Howard, Scribner, Touchstone. Anyway, we went to meet A. and the Lowes and talked about how we can do these things on our own. I’m still going in and out of depressive feelings. I would like to get to the bottom of why it is this is still happening, when, in fact, it is so, so long ago. I suppose we must also come to grips with the fact that this might not be our direction. Still I will explore every route possible and that can include small press, electronic only and other entrepreneurial paths for the writing. I was tempted to cance going to dinner but we decided to follow through on plans to go to Café Lux. And there we got a little bit of a sign.

We were at the host station when this man approached and asked S. if her earrings were Ted Muehling, which they were. He is an opera singer at the Met but he is also a goldsmith and a jeweler with a home base in Stonington, Maine. That would be super on target as you know. Anyway we will meet him when wecome back in the Spring, which is going to entail a tour of New England, anyway, exploring all the options. I am going to put my attention into the investment operations and put on my big-boy pants and pull up the old bootstraps. Had some lambchops and frites and some so-so Priorat and tried to word notes to M.T. but I couldn’t come up with anything even remotely salient. I definitely want to catch up on all that needs doing. And yet here I am having to recover and somehow field the feelings that will come and go and come and go. Everything in life is so up and down on this score. It would be nice to get to a place where we don’t have to be in such a state of flux, but I do believe that is up to me. And we need to relax, regroup, and recalibrate so to meet the chanllenges before us. I decided I am not calling or writing J&L. If they want to drive us from Edinburgh that will be great and we can split the cost of the rental no problem. But I am really a bit in need of taking the proper status. The view from the thirty-ninth floor is spectacular at least thought it bothers me that I cannot ever fully enjoy the fantastic things in life. I feel, too, that I might be hitting a bit of a wall with what I’ve considered fun enhancement in the past. I honestly do feel at my very best when simply relaxed and meeting life on life’s terms. I will need to find a way to address the toxicity still lurking in that particular well. I think I have to give myself the gift of being finished with today’s entry.

I woke up feeling pretty crappy. I’m not used to drinking cocktails and also I find that when I do so to drown any feelings of sadness or anxiety I get into a deeper hole that I then struggle to dig out of. S.  has morning appointments so I’m going to take some air and just walk around the neighborhood. I had some poached eggs on hash and it seems to have sat well. We are being texted that we are to have another lunch which is great. I should feel leveleled out by then. Which I do. We met at Georgette and I’m planning to pick up the tab. Quite a nice restaurant. I order some artichokes as my main meal. We talk about Lumos and filmmaking and it is all pretty fascinating. I am guzzling Badoit. We will go back and regroup and make ourselves pretty for the evening. S. decides to go back out as she needs to bring a cash tip to one of her people who serviced her this morning. I will take a bath and slowly put myself together. I am trying not to have a bad day but it is touch and go I must admit. Impeachment is happening and tonight we will see Nancy Pelosi. The phone rings and they say Juan Carlos is here. I say I don’t know who that is. They hang up. I’m in the bath and S. comes back and says she overheard the staff say that the hairdresser had yet to arrive. Uh oh. I realize that perhaps the call that Juan Carlos was here was actually meant for the suite across the hall. S. goes to tell them but here’s they are already on the phone with him, whom we assume, is here to do J.’s hair, but of course. I’m dressed too early but that’s okay. I think things look relatively decent on me. Our driver is meant to be downstairs and five thirty. It is quite cold out and I pop out and approach a couple of cars but neither driver is him. I go back inside and we call him who says he’s right outside. Okay well can’t you see me going around soliciting drivers? We finally get in and he asks where we are going. It is to the Hilton on Sixth. We go to the main entrance and check in and we are ushered to the VIP party which is great. There are interesting looking people yet nobody seems to be dressed all that well. Or rather they are all over the place, some in gowns and tuxes, some in cocktail apparel. There is a place to get photographed. We do so as a lark. We have something barely bearable to drink and lean on a table where this couple talks to us. He is the Tweezerman and she writes feminist fantasy literature. They have a 240 acre property in Rhinebeck and we are invited to visit. They say they like to skinny dip. I don’t think we are going. Then again maybe we can go for lunch in the winter when there won’t be temptations toward nudity. We can stay in Tivoli. It might make a nice trip. I’m still drinking to drown the sorrows of yesterday but I have to pace myself. We are called into dinner.

We find our table and are immediately greeted by a man who turns out to be a Sir. He is with Lumos and he is very sweet and seated next to S. the seats next to me remain empty for a bit and I actually switch my plate with the one next to me as mine is missing a sauce. It is a burrata of sorts and I’m starving now as I only had an artichoke at lunch and it is now getting late. There are bottles of wine on the table. Nothing is great shakes nor would it be. There are Kennedys everywhere. When they introduce J. it is every Kennedy kid on the planet who is brought up on stage. Joe Kennedy, who will be senator, first introduces a video about her. J. is third up after Wendy Abrams and Glenn Tullman, both of whom have done extraordinary things. After J. it’s time to honor the Speaker who gets the most applause of the night as is right. Adam Schiff is here. Ari Melber is here. Katie Couric. It is an elitist Dem gathering of the first order. One of our clients, an actress, is here and we hang for a hot minute. These things are very odd in that, unless I was invited as a guest, I would never be in this room. The table next to us is all young teens and they are talking right through everything, tempting me to tell them to shut it, which I cannot do. Who the hell am I. Nobody. We get to shake hands with the Speaker and her husband which is pretty exciting in and of itself. The security forces are in full swing. J & N are leaving directly after Nancy speaks. We will meet our own car.

We get back tot he hotel and have a little champagne and watch the UK election results. Boris Johnson has a resounding, sweeping win. This is very sad. Brexit is soon to be. Also there will likely be a reunification of Ireland in our lifetime as well as an independent Scotland. These are historic times. I’m eating a ton of cold friench fries, I am drinking glasses of champagne. I know we stayin the suite until an ungodly hour of three a.m. and the next day all I think is what did I talk about that whole time. I can barely remember which is not a good sign. I hate that feeling of not really knowning. I pretty much pass out—you can’t call it falling asleep; and I only have a few hours of unconciousness. I am in the throes of angst and sadness underneath the surface and I am aware that the wine, which would have helped in the short term, was going to back fire on me in the waking hour that comes too soon. This will prove to be correct.

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.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2021 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2021 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.