Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sixth house of Work and Health, I am leaving you behind for good. Oh wait, not the Health Part
It's time to put my inspiration to work... After pretty much scouring the availability of jobs, I have firmly decided that there is absolutely nothing available that I want to do. Maybe it's all in my head, but the concept of drudgery, stress and subordination to someone else's dream is not in the (tarot) cards or stars for me. I want to launch my venture but I am currently still lacking the expertise. So universe, lend me a hand, will ya? I am willing to do the work but I need the missing pieces of the puzzle to just miraculously appear before my very eyes.
Having said that, my sixth house sucks. Why? Because natal Saturn is in Aries which is at its weakest point. I hate taking orders, I hate having to act on someone else's stage, I have people who think they have control over others and I hate being told what to do if I didn't ask (but of course I don't have a problem dishing out advice). Aries is not into taking advice. Saturn is all about shoving advice down your gullet and if it's not taken, then you get punished and roughed up a bit by the authorities. I am thankful for my great health (aside from a little sugar addiction). I don't mind following the rules if it's for my own proactive benefit and I get to call the shots.
So trying not to start and stop and stop and start, I am going to complete other projects I started doing within the next week.
1) I am trying to catch up on my business plan. Can I get caught up this Memorial Day weekend? Who knows?! Being that this is my third business plan in three years, I hope I get it right by now. UGH, it's hours of research. I don't know how I thought I could do this on my own. I secretly hope I didn't waste those countless hours of my life.
2) I still have to hone in on my target market for the Lunology app. Then I have to finish all the Lunology text. Then I have to refine the design and user interface. Then I have the animation frustration.
3) I am going to decorate the envelopes of six new leads for Nicolas' gigs. Three have been completed.
I think I need to take my apple to the doctor before my protection plan is up.
Did I mention that I have to find a place to live and move?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
fourth house crumbling
According to my marketing class this past Wednesday, we should be blogging every day. If not every day, why bother. I have a tendency to write too much, wait too long, then become inconsistent. So really, I am going to keep it short tonight.
I have been looking for an apartment since April. That's nothing in New York minutes, but it seems like a long time, especially when you consider that every day my kids are breathing death (we all are, but lead dust is just a bit more toxic, a bit more insidious, a wee bit more unsettling). Today we got kicked off the possibility list of an apt we almost had because I wrote the reason for leaving was due to lead poisoning. It turns out that the owner of the building got sued for the same thing recently and just couldn't think of that happening again. It was a large building two blocks from where I live now, up four flights of stairs. I guess it wasn't the one.
Taking my chances, I looked at another apartment that was in a private house. Four blocks from here. Perfectly nice block (all west indian–my hoe they moved to Brooklyn at the right time). The apartment was downstairs. Someone was supposed to meet me at five. My girls and I got there a few minutes before and waited until seventeen after. I took them around the block. Someone sitting on the porch of a lovely large home, smoking a sick cigarette started hollering and swearing up and down that I looked just like Joyce. She probably had just downed a glass of what I am drinking now (but not such a nice brand) and may have had a few hits of something else. This made me wonder why all these people have been able to do it and I haven't.
That's what frustrates me the most about NY. I mean do these people "deserve" what they have? I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't know how to do it.
We went back to the house and I forgot to mention the first time we went there, someone upstairs poked her head out and shook it no that she was not the owner but whomever it was that was supposed to meet me would be there in a few. Mind you that mysterious show person still wasn't there after our one block tour, so I decided to force the flimsy front door and of course it opened easily. I left the kids on the sidewalk since I decided to run in and out. To no one's surprise, my three year old started bawling, causing the only white couple in a two block radius to stop in concern until they saw me running back down the stairs.
The apt was a hodgepodge of crappy thin grey carpet, hardwood floors, and cheap linoleum squares. In desperate need of one of those home improvement reality show crews, just to get it rented, let alone sold, I now know why the house had a FOR RENT sign in the front window and $1450 monthly fee is usury.
I decided to really check the house out before bailing so I towed the girls up the front steps and my older one was still bawling. Looking at the rooms and kitchen led me to wonder if the seriously overblown price might have something to do with a backyard being part of the package. There was a key in the deadlock on the kitchen door, so what the hell, I turned it and walked down the precariously high steps to the backyard. Of course the Chumpette grabbed hold of a very splintery-looking slab of wood and started stirring it in a tub-looking container full of muddy water. For her, the next logical step would have been to put her hands in the same water and put that same hand in her mouth. All this was going on while I was distracted by the dead cat carcass on the ground right next to my feet. Masses of hair had fallen off the deceased beast and its bleached white bones were there, completely intact. The whole skeleton. Ah what a lovely image. But somehow, someone had a means of buying this house. Someone who seems completely illier illiterate and as completely aware that this place was just not going to cut it.
And some asshole didn't even bother showing up.
Now I said I would make this short, so I wouldn't put off coming back tomorrow. All this is to tell you that I really hate that damned venus (in its fall, very aggressive but bellicose) conjunct sad saturn (gloom and doom, fear) and moon in aries (quarrels and contention all over the place) in my progressed fourth house of foundation, home and family. However, the nice thing about aries is that they keep going (even if its like the tarot's infamous Fool).
Tootles. BTW, just leave me a comment if you read this. Maybe its better if you don't....
I have been looking for an apartment since April. That's nothing in New York minutes, but it seems like a long time, especially when you consider that every day my kids are breathing death (we all are, but lead dust is just a bit more toxic, a bit more insidious, a wee bit more unsettling). Today we got kicked off the possibility list of an apt we almost had because I wrote the reason for leaving was due to lead poisoning. It turns out that the owner of the building got sued for the same thing recently and just couldn't think of that happening again. It was a large building two blocks from where I live now, up four flights of stairs. I guess it wasn't the one.
Taking my chances, I looked at another apartment that was in a private house. Four blocks from here. Perfectly nice block (all west indian–my hoe they moved to Brooklyn at the right time). The apartment was downstairs. Someone was supposed to meet me at five. My girls and I got there a few minutes before and waited until seventeen after. I took them around the block. Someone sitting on the porch of a lovely large home, smoking a sick cigarette started hollering and swearing up and down that I looked just like Joyce. She probably had just downed a glass of what I am drinking now (but not such a nice brand) and may have had a few hits of something else. This made me wonder why all these people have been able to do it and I haven't.
That's what frustrates me the most about NY. I mean do these people "deserve" what they have? I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't know how to do it.
We went back to the house and I forgot to mention the first time we went there, someone upstairs poked her head out and shook it no that she was not the owner but whomever it was that was supposed to meet me would be there in a few. Mind you that mysterious show person still wasn't there after our one block tour, so I decided to force the flimsy front door and of course it opened easily. I left the kids on the sidewalk since I decided to run in and out. To no one's surprise, my three year old started bawling, causing the only white couple in a two block radius to stop in concern until they saw me running back down the stairs.
The apt was a hodgepodge of crappy thin grey carpet, hardwood floors, and cheap linoleum squares. In desperate need of one of those home improvement reality show crews, just to get it rented, let alone sold, I now know why the house had a FOR RENT sign in the front window and $1450 monthly fee is usury.
I decided to really check the house out before bailing so I towed the girls up the front steps and my older one was still bawling. Looking at the rooms and kitchen led me to wonder if the seriously overblown price might have something to do with a backyard being part of the package. There was a key in the deadlock on the kitchen door, so what the hell, I turned it and walked down the precariously high steps to the backyard. Of course the Chumpette grabbed hold of a very splintery-looking slab of wood and started stirring it in a tub-looking container full of muddy water. For her, the next logical step would have been to put her hands in the same water and put that same hand in her mouth. All this was going on while I was distracted by the dead cat carcass on the ground right next to my feet. Masses of hair had fallen off the deceased beast and its bleached white bones were there, completely intact. The whole skeleton. Ah what a lovely image. But somehow, someone had a means of buying this house. Someone who seems completely illier illiterate and as completely aware that this place was just not going to cut it.
And some asshole didn't even bother showing up.
Now I said I would make this short, so I wouldn't put off coming back tomorrow. All this is to tell you that I really hate that damned venus (in its fall, very aggressive but bellicose) conjunct sad saturn (gloom and doom, fear) and moon in aries (quarrels and contention all over the place) in my progressed fourth house of foundation, home and family. However, the nice thing about aries is that they keep going (even if its like the tarot's infamous Fool).
Tootles. BTW, just leave me a comment if you read this. Maybe its better if you don't....
Saturday, May 22, 2010
bemusement, not amusement
I haven't had the luxury of keeping up with these posts as I am pretty occupied with my intensive ten week course, "taking care of business." Taking this course has proven to me that my business knowledge and skills are remedial at best.
Of course I have been consumed with my current situation with my little one. For legal reasons I cannot recount what we have suffered at this time. I have been aware for several months that I have progressed venus and saturn conjunct in aries in my secondary progressed fourth house. At the beginning of the year, I saw that there was more junk going on in my homelife to haunt me just enough to keep everything as interesting and stressful as possible (I have to look at my progressed chart again), but I wondered how it would manifest. I knew it wouldn't be good, though, as Venus and Saturn are in their fall (at their weakest, ugliest, most trapped and debilitated). All that time, I just didn't want anyone to get hurt. Especially not someone who didn't deserve it.
Now I am faced with another set of complex issues that affect my little contraquarian for life. I can only say that I am very grateful to have certain metaphysical knowledge that renders me capable of concentrating my thoughts upon a desired goal and manifesting that thought into physical reality (which I need to turn up volume-wise in the finance department). Having said that, I know just as sure as I am here typing this right now—that any and all of my daughter's setbacks are only temporary and I will work on her and with her to obliterate any limitations that she might face as a result of this process.
When illness strikes, western medicine, like almost all other bastions of our declining civilization, has never been a trusted, favorite source for comfort or advice. I hesitate fully to force my child to get injected with some type of frankenstein concoction that may or may not do what they say it will.
Need time to think with my higher mind.
Need to tap into that vast body of wisdom and power which is so powerful and abundant within myself and the universe...
Need to pass this test with flying colors.
Of course I have been consumed with my current situation with my little one. For legal reasons I cannot recount what we have suffered at this time. I have been aware for several months that I have progressed venus and saturn conjunct in aries in my secondary progressed fourth house. At the beginning of the year, I saw that there was more junk going on in my homelife to haunt me just enough to keep everything as interesting and stressful as possible (I have to look at my progressed chart again), but I wondered how it would manifest. I knew it wouldn't be good, though, as Venus and Saturn are in their fall (at their weakest, ugliest, most trapped and debilitated). All that time, I just didn't want anyone to get hurt. Especially not someone who didn't deserve it.
Now I am faced with another set of complex issues that affect my little contraquarian for life. I can only say that I am very grateful to have certain metaphysical knowledge that renders me capable of concentrating my thoughts upon a desired goal and manifesting that thought into physical reality (which I need to turn up volume-wise in the finance department). Having said that, I know just as sure as I am here typing this right now—that any and all of my daughter's setbacks are only temporary and I will work on her and with her to obliterate any limitations that she might face as a result of this process.
When illness strikes, western medicine, like almost all other bastions of our declining civilization, has never been a trusted, favorite source for comfort or advice. I hesitate fully to force my child to get injected with some type of frankenstein concoction that may or may not do what they say it will.
Need time to think with my higher mind.
Need to tap into that vast body of wisdom and power which is so powerful and abundant within myself and the universe...
Need to pass this test with flying colors.
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