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zalenaAQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Happy Holy Daze, Aquarius! I've been meditating on the perfect holiday gift for you. What symbolic item might inspire you to take maximum advantage of the cosmic currents in 2006? I've decided it would be a fortune cookie inside of which was an oracle based on an old Sufi saying: "I was a hidden treasure and I longed to be known." This would serve as your motto and mantra in the coming months, a reminder that it's high time for you to come out of every closet, throw off all your disguises, and reveal the curious, beautiful truths about yourself. Even if you don't do that, I bet you'll still become better known in 2006; not necessarily famous, but certainly more accurately perceived and more deeply understood.
I've been getting the dreariest horoscopes from RB all year; but this one really hit the spot.
My new bed arrived last night, and I can't help but feel I've been secretly duped by the cosmos into biting off more bed than I can handle. It is a big, high, plush, almost vulgar bed, that demands a running start to jump into. The quilt Leila sent me looks good on it; and I carted out the tea tray that was my bedside table, and carted in a piece of furniture my teacher gave me, which finally holds the lamp up high enough to clear the mattress, and makes it look more in proportion. My mother keeps teasing me about putting a pea beneath it, because the thing looks like a set prop for a play about overly sensitive princesses.
How have I been living the life of an aesthete on ill-fit hand-me-downs for so long? Sometimes I feel like my entire life is a hand-me-down, it is past time to live one that is new and my very own.
I've been getting the dreariest horoscopes from RB all year; but this one really hit the spot.
My new bed arrived last night, and I can't help but feel I've been secretly duped by the cosmos into biting off more bed than I can handle. It is a big, high, plush, almost vulgar bed, that demands a running start to jump into. The quilt Leila sent me looks good on it; and I carted out the tea tray that was my bedside table, and carted in a piece of furniture my teacher gave me, which finally holds the lamp up high enough to clear the mattress, and makes it look more in proportion. My mother keeps teasing me about putting a pea beneath it, because the thing looks like a set prop for a play about overly sensitive princesses.
How have I been living the life of an aesthete on ill-fit hand-me-downs for so long? Sometimes I feel like my entire life is a hand-me-down, it is past time to live one that is new and my very own.
