It had been a while since I had really gotten all that into my weekly horoscope.
Once upon a time, I used to think they were loads of fun to read. But somewhere along the way, I started to realize that no matter where I was reading – the information contained in my horoscope was typically nonsense.
At one point in time I even fancied myself becoming a horoscope writer. I figured all it would take was a creative use of the English language and the ability to blow rainbows up people’s behinds.
I could definitely do that.
I pretty much stopped reading them entirely. Even for fun. I just no longer saw the fun in reading something that seemed so blatantly made up.
That is, until I was introduced to Cal Garrison and her weekly horoscope readings at Real Detroit Weekly.
It was a co-worker who first introduced it to me. She was swearing up and down that this horoscope site was the most spot-on she had ever read. I initially showed no interest, but when she sent me the link and I checked it out just to appease her – I was immediately hooked.
I can’t remember what the circumstances were that first week, or how the horoscope fit. I just remember nodding my head emphatically in agreement with every single thing I was reading.
It was like this woman knew me. Knew my life. Knew what I was going through at that exact moment.
And from that point forward, I was addicted. Anxiously waiting until Tuesday afternoon (sometimes late into Tuesday evening) every week when the new round of predictions/advice/prophecies would come out.
I devoured those weekly horoscopes. And most weeks, they were just as spot on as the first. The rare and random weeks when I couldn’t quite find a connection to the words on the page and my own life, I just attributed to the fact that every Aries can’t possibly be having the same life challenges and luck every single week. It made sense that it wouldn’t always fit.
And anyway, it fit more often than it did not. So I remained hooked. Even getting Mrs. King in on the excitement. To the point that over the last few weeks, she and I have even been talking about taking a spa trip to Sedona, Arizona with the singular purpose of meeting Cal Garrison and finding out how it is that she is so in tune with us. With the stars. With the universe.
I have praised this woman and her horoscopes on countless occasions. Recommended them to friends, raved about them online, and generally allowed myself to be guided weekly by the words she puts on paper.
Now, don’t get me wrong. She writes a short paragraph every week. Just a few sentences. Typically, it’s some commentary on the emotional climate of the week. Rarely is there much advice. It’s not like I read this article and change any of my other behaviors. It’s more like I marvel at the fact that something in the stars could predict some of the obstacles I would be experiencing, or the happiness I would be coming upon. I don’t exactly let this weekly horoscope effect me in any way beyond that. Nor do I think it really tries to. It’s just… interesting. And it often leaves me thinking there may be more to astrology than I ever really gave much credit to.
More than anything, I’ve always just been kind of blown away with how true to life this weekly column has been.
Week after week after week.
Until this week that is.
Because this week, this is what my horoscope said:
ARIES: March 21 – April 20
Too much of this has gotten to be about you. It would be great if you could see that other people have a say in things. And if you could ever get to the point where you begin to understand that their needs and wants are as important as yours it would be awesome. This business of thinking you're the only one who counts is an old pattern. What developed in you as a child is totally inappropriate to the conditions you face now. It's time to grow into the realization that you came here to share and loan as much space to others as you do to yourself.
Yes, you read that right.
Aren’t feeling sufficiently stung enough? Maybe you should read it again.
Because Cal Garrison basically put me (and all other Aries in the universe) over her knee this week and spanked us. Hard.
I'm pretty sure my butt cheeks are still red.
Me thinks Cal may have gotten slighted by an Aries or two recently.
At least, I hope that’s what it's all about.
Because otherwise - I might be a selfish, crappy, awful person.
When I first read this week’s entry, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was either that, or write hate mail to dear old Cal. And since I’m not exactly one for putting all that energy into spreading hate, I went ahead with the laughter.
Meaning: I forwarded that horoscope of mine to a few of my closest friends.
Hockey Wife immediately responded back with “Where did you find that? Horoscopesthatmakeyoufeellikeshit.com?”
Gotta give credit where credit is due. That witty little title comes courtesy of my more creative than me friend.
We laughed about it a bit, and then moved on to her upcoming move to Germany. The move that will leave me without one of my favorite people within arms length of me. The move that will take her and her little one away. Far, far, away. Forget the hockey opportunities, and the chances for her little boy to be immersed in another country. They are going to be leaving me. For what seems like the umpteenth time.
Stupid hockey season. Doesn’t it know that I would much rather have all my friends near to me all the time?
Doesn't it know that it’s all about me?
I then spoke to Mrs. King, who was the one who informed me of the spanking I had just received.
I’m not sure if some of you realize how often these amazing friends of mine really do contribute to the creativity I like to claim as my own here. I should probably start giving them all bylines.
After she and I discussed the merits (or lack thereof) behind this week’s readings (for the record, she was raving about how on the nose her horoscope had been), we moved on to her weekend plans. Weekend plans that involved her anniversary. Weekend plans that might have gotten in the way, just a bit, with plans I had hoped she would partake in with me. I may have pouted a little.
Because let's not forget; it’s all about me.
Finally, I talked to Loo. Loo who assured me over and over again that I am not a selfish, crappy, awful person. Loo who could not stop laughing, because she just thought the whole thing was so preposterous. Loo, who I’m pretty sure decided that this is what I get for reading my horoscope so faithfully.
Loo, who then told me about the promotion she's been asked to interview for. The one that would be kind of a big deal. The one that would involve her moving home to Texas – where both her family, and her man are. The one that would take her away from me. For good. Forever. For keeps.
And right then, right there, I started to cry. Real, big, crocodile tears. I sputtered how happy I was for her. How much I knew this would mean to her, and how much I believed she deserved it.
But then I cried some more, and told her she wasn’t allowed to take it. Because she’s my best friend. Because she’s the one I go to first. Because she’s always there for me. Always. And I can’t imagine my life with her thousands of miles away.
I cried. Because it’s all about me.
And then I realized – this week’s horoscope may not be so off after all.
I am a selfish, crappy, awful person. I try. I like to think I have a good heart. That I am kind, and caring, and that I give of myself all the time. I have a career where I help people, I am someone my friends come to for advice, and I have patience with the people in my life that I think exceeds normal standards.
This time last year, I absolutely would have told you that I was in a selfish place. That my need/desire/yearning to be a mother had taken over everything else and I had ceased being a good daughter/employee/friend. But I really thought I had grown past that. I really thought that these last few months especially, I had been returning more and more to that old version of myself. The one who gave as much as she took. The one who was open, and compassionate. Sincere and accepting. The one who thought of others first, instead of the other way around.
But nope. Cal Garrison set me straight.
I am a selfish, crappy, awful person.
And I don’t want my friends to leave me. Period. I want them all to stay right here in Alaska with me always. And I want the ones who aren’t here to move. I want to live in a little bubble with the people I care about most all within arm’s length. They can have all the love and happiness and employment opportunities their little heart’s desire. Just so long as none of it takes them away from me. Ever.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
Apparently, Cal does.
And at horoscopesthatmakeyoufeellikeshit.com, she made sure to let me know.
So at this point, if you too are a selfish, crappy, awful person (i.e. an Aries), I’m going to need you to tell me about it in the comments below.
Preferably with examples of what it is exactly that makes you such a selfish, crappy, awful person.
I’m pretty sure that’s what it will take to make me feel better about myself now.
Which is important after all, because it is all about me.
ADSPACE
