Archive for February, 2006

Hell Week

Saturday, February 25th, 2006

This could very well be the last week of my life. If I’m still standing by Sunday, well then, God loves me. May the ball turn out great. May there be no bitchy alums. May I have the right answers for the SpecPro midterm on Saturday. May my dress be ready. May the rummage sale tomorrow generate money.

Last I heard some guy’s dad had a heart operation. Who held his hand through it I wonder. Sheryl Crow had just been treated for breast cancer. Hope she and Lance Armstrong get back together. If you ask me they’re MFEO. Have we all gotten so addicted to the drama that when somebody steady and reliable comes, who could potentially make us happy, we flee and make excuses and imagine issues not there just to make it more "fun".

Down the Same Road Again

Thursday, February 16th, 2006

I have a plan, I’ve always had one. But the damn hormones get in the way. And when that little thing happens to me again, that thing over before it has actually begun flashes its silly smile at me as if to mock me, I raise my fist at it and say "I have been through this countless of times before. You are not a unique snowflake. I will survive you." Caveat: Why write about this now? It might be the hormones still.

Lately the Furies have taken up residence in my heart. I am both mad and resigned, hopeful and pessimistic, caught up in an inertia to run and in an inertia to keep still. Damn days like this. Rage. Rapture. Rampage.

Happy Valentine’s Everyone

Monday, February 13th, 2006

HERE’S A MEDLEY OF MY FAVORITE INDIGO GIRLS SONGS–

During the time of which I speak
It was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect
The blood of love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of it’s impurity
Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
They’ve all gone and left each other
In search of fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love’s recovery.

***********

So what is love then is it dictated or chosen
(handed down and made by hand)
Does it sing like the hymns of 1000 years
Or is it just pop emotion
(handed down and made by hand)
And if it ever was there and it left
Does it mean it was never true
And to exist it must elude
Is that why I think these things of you
I could go crazy on a night like tonight
When summer’s beginning to give up her fight
And every thought’s a possibility
And the voices are heard but nothing is seen
Why do you spend this time with me
May be an equal mystery.

***********

And I wish her insight to battle love’s blindness
Strength from the milk of human kindness
A safe place for all the pieces that scattered
Learn to pretend there’s more than love that matters.

***********

I’m just a mirror of a mirror myself
All the things that I do
And the next time I fall I’m gonna have to recall
It’s isn’t love it’s only something new.

MAY THEY OFFER YOU SOLACE TODAY. :) Na-na-na-na-na-na…

To Love Alone

Sunday, February 12th, 2006

It has been a discussion amongst my friends if you can in fact love alone. Yesterday, I accompanied my tito to the church to hear mass. As we were stepping out of the house, he looked to the heavens and said "Aba, neng, look. Ang ganda ng buwan. Are those clouds. Hmm..ang ganda noh?" "Yes Tito Bins." And so we set off to the church, which was 5 houses down. I told him to flex his hands as they appeared to be swollen. He was walking a bit ahead of me, diligently exercising his hands as I asked him to, and then I blurted out, "Tito Bins, who am I? What’s my name?" "Aba ewan ko sayo, tinatanong mo pa ko kung sino ka." was his reply, while quickening his step and waiving his hand dismissively at me.

But there are days when I’d go to his room and chat with him and feel that he knows I’m his brother’s youngest daughter. When I invite him for merienda he asks me where we’ll go to eat, if the food’s yummy. At night he tells me when he’s going to bed, "neng tulog na ko ha" "Goodnight Tito Bins" "Goodnight neng, God bless." "Tito Bins magpajamas ka" and then 5 minutes later he shows me he’s in fact changed into them and says goodnight to me again. Somehow I feel he remembers who I am. It’s me, Rics, the one who reminds him to brush his teeth, and fixes the his hair at the back when the lack  of manual dexterity prevents him from reaching it with a comb. It’s Rics, who talks to him about current events, and asks how his day went even when she knows he’s spent it lying in bed for half the time. It’s Rics who checks if he’s taken a bath, who wakes up when she hears him going out of his room in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, who goes out to the sala when she hears him wandering in it when he checks if the doors are locked and if the lights are turned off. To him I’m just neng. He knows I’m not the maid, maybe he remembers we’re related. I doubt if he misses me during the school week when I’m not home. In good days he knows it’s the weekend when I’m home and asks if I came from school, what school I go to and the course I’m taking up. This morning he treated me to taho after breakfast. Other days when I kid him to make me libre merienda he curtly replies "To each his own."

Yes, Virginia, in this regard we can love alone. But in the realm of the person, in his own heart and his own mind, he must know that inspite of loving alone, he loves fully, with every ounce of energy he can muster, allowing the mustard seed to grow bigger and fuller in time even when he alone remembers, even when he alone understands.

Someday Tito Bins will know how much we all care for him. And I hope at that point he’ll be able to feel my appreciation — he has made me a better, more patient person, without meaning to.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This afternoon while manning the adoption week booth, a blockmate of mine told me how his ex was an emotional vampire when they were together. "She talks about her problems all the time. And when I tell her how my day went, she’ll pick up on something I said and monopolize the conversation again." What makes life complicated? Context. Because every conversation has many layers, and all possible meaning and nuance can be culled from them, in that his "hi" to her is different from his "hello" to you, in that "uh-huh" is worlds apart from "yes" and "maybe" is a shiny, pointed knife compared to the earthen, rounded mug that’s a "let’s". Who would have thunk that a meeting of the minds could take on a deeper, actual, metaphysical definition.

It is the saddest thing not to be understood, to talk to someone who is not there. It is sorry to rationalize in you head how in fact you comprehend each other (when you don’t really) and how you fool yourself into believing he’s able to touch the, Bruce Springsteen willing, secret garden inside (when he doesn’t even have the faintest clue that there’s plenty sides to you).  Nobody should live like that.

You know how you have fixtures at home, say a vase, and you pass it everyday when you go to the kitchen and back. And for years you’ve known the vase to be there, you’ve known it’s blue-ish and that it has flowers on it. But then one day, on your way to the kitchen to get a drink, you look at the vase. And. You. See.It. You actually see it. That blue-ish is actually royal blue with a few lighter streaks because of uneven painting. That the flowers are sunflower yellow with red dots in the middle, outlined by golden protruding  lines. That the vase could have been baked because to the touch it feels like clay. That the part where the two yellow flowers seem to be embracing is the most artistic part of the whole vase, and you turn it so that that part can be seen by everyone who passes it to go to the kitchen. People can be that vase. Years and years later, you look up from whatever it is you’re doing and you see him for the first time. I see you, you tell him. If only he could hear. Please see me, too.

What to do. There’s still tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that. As the Fuzzy told me, "Courage, Marie. No unsupported conclusions. Honesty. No expectations. Independence. Don’t fret. Choices. Tomorrow will take care of itself."

It’s That Time of the Year

Saturday, February 11th, 2006

Yep, February. That month. School’s almost winding up and finals are soon in coming.

Why do we not write when we’re happy? I’m writing now, does that mean I’m unhappy? No. Unhappy’s not the word. Just…melancholy, at least for the time being.

I don’t know everything. Nor will I ever know it all. I am not the first nor will I be the last. I am not indispensable. I’m not a constant. But I can be guarded. I can be hard. I can choose to change the lock on the door. The next time, fall like the first time? Maybe, but likely never again.

I’m not as flippant as I seem.

Cosmic Profile part 2

Thursday, February 2nd, 2006

The SAGITTARIUS Woman

"Then it doesn’t matter which way you walk," said the Cat.

"-So long as I get somewhere,"

Alice added as an explanation.

"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat,

"if you only -walk long enough."

She’s not always going to say the kind of things you want to hear. Most of the time, she’ll curl your sideburns with her remarkable, flat statements and her embarrassing ques­tions. But now and then she’ll say something so special and splendid it will make you feel like singing.

You may need a sample. Scene: Coffee shop. You’ve just gotten up the courage to tell her you love her, but before you can say it, she looks at you with wide-open, guileless blue eyes-or forthright, steady brown ones- and asks you curiously, "How do you feel about being so short? Does it make you neurotic or anything?" While you’re gulping, trying manfully to recover, she’ll add, "You shouldn’t care about it. Lots of men were short. Like Napoleon. And Fiorello LaGuardia." That’s almost adding insult to injury, but before you get a chance to walk out, thinking no woman ever deserved such ungallant treatment more, shell muse dreamily, "I hate men who look like bean poles. You’re perfect. I noticed when we were walking over here tonight-we measure just right together."

Sit back down. You’re staying. For a long time. A friendly, frank Sagittarius girl has just wound herself around your heart with her own, peculiar brand of charm. She’ll always be a little outspoken, because she sees the world exactly as it is, even while she’s wearing those ridiculous, rose-tinted glasses. That, you must admit, is quite a talent. It’s not everyone who can apply clear, reasonable logic to every situation, and retain the happy faculty of believing things will get better or else deciding to accept them^or what they are.

Sagittarius females are regular Pollyannas. It will cut when she tells you she wishes you would make more money, but then she’ll add, "Of course, too much money can make people selfish. Maybe it’s lucky that you’re poor." Admittedly, it’s sort of a left-handed optimism, but you’ll get used to it. This girt will never lie to you. Some­times, you may wish she would. Show curiosity about how she spends the nights you’re not with her, and you’ll get a detailed, perfectly honest report of the letters she writes to that handsome intern she met last summer on her vacation and how many dates she turns down on the phone. She may even relate her troubles with insomnia, brought on when she lies awake at night wondering if maybe what she feels for you is friendship instead of love. You’ll feel like yelling at her, "For Pete’s sake, lie a little once in a while, can’t you? A man has his pride." Don’t yell too loud. You’ll offend her, and she’s not exactly noncombustible herself. Sagittarius girls have been known to fly into some pretty fiery rages.

She will probably live alone. Sagittarius girls are very • independent, and both sexes have a strange aloofness to family ties. Maybe it’s because they travel so much, they don’t get home often enough to get to know their families well. Even if they only travel to the movies and girl friends’ houses, they’re restlessly on the go. I don’t want to frighten you, but I once knew a Sagittarius woman so unaware of the nuances of family relationships that she invited her rejected beau to come along on her honeymoon with her new husband. The poor thing looked so lonesome. He said he’d pay his own way. Why are you looking at her like that? Did she do something wrong?

There’s one thing you’ll have to learn right away, or the relationship will never get off the ground. When you want her to do something, ask her. Don’t tell her. The cave man technique went out with Tarzan and Jane, as far as she’s concerned. She enjoys being protected, but she doesn’t want to be ordered around. Not even her mother gets away with that. Who are you, that you should top her mother? She may have an Aries mother, and if a Mars woman can’t boss her around, no male on earth is going to do it. However, there’s a queer twist to her nature. Although she dislikes being bossed, especially in public, when she’s testing you for firmness, be firm. Jupiter women can’t stand weak, wishy-washy men. If she gets too high-spirited and her clever tongue gets too sarcastic, or she threatens some action that really incenses you, give her a light touch of the Tarzan treatment. Just enough to keep her in line. Like "You do that and I’ll break your neck." She may react with surprising meekness if she thinks you’re serious. A Sagittarius female has no in-tendon of giving up her individuality for any male, but she kind of likes to know you think of her as a girl.

j   She may confuse you, but that’s nothing to what she does | to herself. Many a Sagittarius girl mistakes friendship for | love and love for friendship. If you’re one of those old-| fashioned men who prefer evasiveness and timidity in your i women, you’d better look for another Bingo partner. This young lady has bright, frank ways with men, and she’s not going to play any silly games of "Guess how I feell" or "Guess what I think!" How she feels and what she thinks are identical with how she acts and what she says. Her outspoken bluntness naturally causes misunderstand­ings, and a good share of fiery battles, let alone hurt feel­ings, but it doesn’t crush her spirit. Jupiter pride comes to the surface and rescues her in a crisis, allowing her to pass off her heartache as the biggest joke of the season. Inside, she may be weeping, but she’ll employ such clever wit in answering the questions of friends about the break that they’ll decide the whole affair was a harmless flirtation on her part. Little will they guess how she soaks her pillow every night, wondering what she could possibly have said that fractured everything. It might have been when she told him not to stop by her apartment the time he called from the lobby around midnight-because she was "busy talking with a man who had a few problems." Actually, the man was her brother-in-law, but with the peculiar Sagit­tarius twist of leaving out the core of the story, she neg­lected to mention that. Why should she have to explain herself? (All Sagittarians show a raging, righteous anger when their integrity is doubted.) Or it could have been when he asked her if she minded him bringing his little sister along to the movies and she blurted out, "Gosh, I hope that doesn’t mean she’s going to be hanging around all the time when we’re married." She may have sincerely liked the young girl, but the natural Sagittarian fear of being suffocated by in-laws brought on her thoughtless and forthright statement. Now she misses his sister as much as the man, but it’s too late to explain what she meant. Besides, no one would understand.

Impasses like this are impossible for her to fathom, for all her logical mental processes, and often lead the Jupiter girl into a never-never land of romance, not knowing where the fire might flame up, or why, and afraid of being burned when it does. Then she’ll play it too cool and be unable to take anyone seriously, least of all herself. She’ll flirt openly, but without any intention of making it a lasting or a forever thing, and gain the reputation of a cold heartless female. A fire sign is never cold or heartless, but then there are a lot of astrologically ignorant men out there who don’t know that. If such a state of affairs should happen to lead to spinsterhood, she certainly won’t be a dry and bitter old maid. She’ll still clown with life and have a barrel of fun. She’ll have a dozen interests to replace a man-and enjoy every one of them.

Of course, you’re not interested in a Sagittarian spinster. You plan to make one your wife someday. (At least, I hope you have honorable intentions. This poor girl has enough problems without you setting out to seduce her.) Let’s stop dwelling on promiscuity, and think about mar­riage. Like the male Sagittarian, she’s a little skittish about wedlock. You’ll need to use some bright, colorful pieces of tinsel as bait to get her pinned down (to accepting your proposal, that is). She’s breezy and unconventional in her relationships with men. Since she considers herself your equal, she may copy your mannerisms, as well as wear your sweater. If she also likes sports and camping, as lots of Sagittarian females do, you may have trouble dis­tinguishing her from the boys. But she’s not the same. For one thing, your sweater looks different on her. Not that Jupiter women are offensively masculine by nature. They can be the softest, most feminine women you ever squeezed. It’s just that she pals around with so many men you get used to seeing her in the crowd-everywhere but in the . steam room and the gym. Since she’s so scrupulously hon­est and aboveboard, she may be a little careless of her reputation and contemptuous of the hypocrisy demanded by society. If you question her about it, she’ll be plain-spoken. She’ll probably t«U you that waltzing in at mid­night doesn’t indicate promiscuity any more than coming home at a more conventional hour indicates innocence. She knows her morals are above reproach, and that’s all that matters. Naturally she’s dead wrong. What other people think matters very much to a female reputation. But try to understand her attitude. Don’t think she’s fast and loose just because she laughs at a few jokes, usually with­out the slightest idea of what they’re all about (the sub­tlety of the double-entendre often escapes Sagittarius). So- she stays up to watch the sunrise from the George Wash­ington Bridge (or from the top of a silo, if you live in the country)-that doesn’t mean she’s the wildest girl in town.

The truth is, she’s a trusting child at heart. Her outlook is so naive it makes her vulnerable to wolves, con artists and phonies (though oddly enough, not in other areas, just in romance). Forget about how cleverly she argues and how startlingly logical she can be. All that has nothing to do with her heart. Her mind isn’t under discussion. It’s bright and intelligent, and well able to take care of itself in any emergency. But her heart is defenseless. It falls down and gets bruised quite often.

That’s another thing. She’s slightly clumsy. At times when the Sagittarius girl strides down the street like a thoroughbred horse, you’ll think she’s the most graceful woman you’ve ever watched-until she stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk, awkwardly grabs the awning over the fruit stand to catch her balance and upsets two crates of oranges. The owner may swear a little, but hell soon shrug his shoulders, tell her to skip it, and hand her some grapes. The sunny Sagittarian disposition can melt the hardest hearts. Now and then, this girl will remind you of a clumsy puppy dog, wagging its friendly tail, and walking all over your feet. But then friendly puppy dogs do get lots of people to love them and feed them. Of course, dogs are a little cheaper to feed. The typical Jupiter girl has a large appetite. She likes good food and wine, nice clothes, and when she travels, she likes to go first class. Sagittarians are extravagant by nature (unless the Moon is in Capricorn or there’s a Virgo ascendant). Money for the sake of money doesn’t interest them, and it takes quite a bit of training to teach most of them the meaning of a dollar bill. Check her ascendant carefully before you loan her your credit card.

The Sagittarian girl you’re involved with may be in show business, because lots of them are drawn by the lure of the footlights. If so, start out on the right foot by expecting her to put her career first, until she tires of it. The sweet sound of applause and the thrill of the encore will ring in her ears with more conviction than all the ro­mantic phrases you can conjure up. Never force her to choose between pleasing you and the excitement of pleasing whole gobs of people at once with her sunshine personality. After a while she’ll grow disgusted with the hypocrisy and artificial glitter she finds all around her in the world of show business, and she’ll come running home to try do­mesticity with someone who is real. You. Someone who believes honesty is beautiful and deception is ugly. You again. Leaving a career won’t remove the wings from her heels forever. They were fastened there at birth. The travel bug will always be nearby to give her a case of wandering fever. Vacation with her when you can; otherwise let her go off to ride the carousel herself, and trust her. She loves you, not the clowns and organ grinders she likes to pass the time with.

Because of her casual attitude toward romance and her shyness of marriage, you may think she’s lacking in senti­ment. You are so mistaken. She’ll cry rivers at sad movies and read poetry with wet eyes. She’s probably saved every note you ever wrote her, scraps of the flowers you bought her in the rain, and the tickets from the hockey game where she met you.

As for her talent as a homemaker, be brave. And be patient. Sagittarius girls are acutely bored by the confine­ment of dusting and mopping. No sooner does she make a bed than it gets unmade. Gosh, you’d think the darned thing would stay neat for a few days anyway, it was such a drag tucking in those sheets at the corners. She’ll hate it all with a purple passion. When she has a home of her own, however, she’ll probably swallow her distaste. She’ll prefer that you get her a maid if you can possibly afford one. If not, she’ll doggedly keep it shining Her mother will never believe it. That sloppy child waxing the coffee table? Impossible. Pride and the eternal Sagittarius logic does it. She needs to be surrounded with beauty and cleanliness to be true to herself. The message reaches her that, if she doesn’t wipe up the linoleum, no one else will. If she was forced by circumstances to do a lot of chores in childhood, she may rebel at first, but she’ll eventually reason it out, and settle down to sweeping the comers with a minimum of resentment.

Her cooking? Well-you can never tell. Maybe you’d iust better eat out on weekends. If she manages decent ‘neals through the week, you can’t expect her to keep a per­fect record on Saturdays and Sundays, too. Most Sagit-tarian women aren’t exactly ecstatic in the kitchen (unless there’s a Taurus, Cancer or Capricorn ascendant). But she can whip up a mean, fancy dessert when she’s trying to cheer you out of the blues. Her own moods can be terrors, but they’re rare, and they last so briefly you’ll hardly notice them. When she’s really hurt, her tongue can be bitterly sarcastic. But she’ll forget what she said almost before she’s finished the sentence, and she won’t under­stand why you want to dwell on it. This is not the woman for a brooding, melancholy man. Gloom and pessimism, | can actually make her physically ill.

| Her children will probably adore her. Shell be their | buddy, and have a circus playing with them. Once she’s lover her initial fear of responsibility, she’ll cope with § diapers and daily baths like a crisp, efficient nurse. Almost | everything she does she does well, with grace, when she | finally decides to learn it. Just like the big people, the little | ones will get a good dose of her cheerful optimism and | outspoken remarks. If they survive her blunt truthfulness, | they’ll grow up thinking she’s the greatest big sister a | kid ever had. She’ll read them funny stories with happy | endings, and take them on sudden, impulsive picnics in | the woods to look for the three bears. (She half believes 8 they’re hiding there herself.) Her youngsters will probably be well-dressed, but not fussily so, and bright-mannered. If they pick up a few unconventional tricks from her, like making footprint curtains by spreading monk’s cloth on the floor, stepping barefoot into yellow paint and walking across the material-at least you won’t be raising a houseful of conformists. Her honesty will mark their characters. If they don’t find those three bears after a careful search under all the fir trees, she’ll probably tell them to forget it-it’s a phony. But she will have looked first. The child who wrote the editor of the New York Sun to ask if there was really a Santa Claus just had to have a Sagittarius Sun sign. Moon or ascendant. She probably raised her own children by the frank, yet idealistic answer of "Yes, Vir­ginia . . ." The Jupiter mother may have to watch a tendency to be lax in discipline, except when she’s tired or angry. That’s the wrong time for spankings.

Youll have a lovely hostess. No one entertains as gra­ciously as a Sagittarian woman, not even her Leo sisters, who are no slouches themselves in the social department. There’s a quality about her sunny, outgoing friendliness that makes people feel deeply welcome, from the garbage man to your boss. A Sagittarian breaks the ice instantly at the stiffest affairs, though she may raise a few eyebrows, too.

As long as you let her call her soul her own, and don’t make her feel tied down, your Sagittarius Pollyanna will give you a triple bonus: her loyalty, her trust and her affection. The three are inseparable, because when she gives her love, her friendship trots right along beside it.

The Jupiter woman is an incurable idealist. And here’s a secret perhaps she never told you: She fell in love with you many years ago, when she was a little girl and wished on the new Moon for someone to share her honest heart. There were lots of times when she thought she had found you and was disappointed. But when you finally came along, she knew you right away, because you were a gentle clown with a dream or two of your own who took her hand and showed her the way to the stars. (Sniff.)

Cosmic Profile

Thursday, February 2nd, 2006

This is so true it’s a bit scary. I honestly don’t think I blunt! ;-)

How to Recognize SAGITTARIUS

‘I should see the garden far betterIf I could get to the top of that hill:

and here’s at path that leads straight to it- at least; no, it doesn’t do that… But I suppose it will at last. But how curiously it twists!… Well then, I’ll try the other way."

I would say that finding an example of this Sun sign is as easy as rolling off a log, except that it isn’t true. It’s much easier than rolling off a log. Pick any party and look at the center of the liveliest group. See that fellow sitting there happily with his rather large foot stuck in his mouth? He’s a Sagittarian who has just gone out on a verbal limb, but he doesn’t know it yet. When he does, he’ll look slightly be­wildered-and the group around him will be looking dag­gers.

The archer will walk up to you, give you a hearty slap on the back and a wide, friendly grin. Then he’ll greet you with a remark like, "How the heck do you manage to look so young when you’re as old as you are?" Or "Say, that turtleneck sweater sure is flattering. You should wear them all the time. Hides your double chin." After one of these cheery openers, he’ll still be wearing his bright grin, but your own smile may start to droop a little. It will take him a while to figure out just what he said that set you back on your heels, and even longer to understand why. Then he’ll try to explain. Keep your cool. It gets worse.

Golly, didn’t you understand what he meant? He thinks it’s fabulous to look only twenty-five years old when you’re really thirty-eight (which is six years older than you ac­tually are). As for the double chin, lots of people your age have a little flab in the neck region. The only time you can see it is from the side. You know, when you turn your head. Just don’t have any pictures taken in profile.

After he’s carefully explained his verbal goofs and got you feeling all better again, he’ll go on his merry way, whistling a tune from the latest Broadway show. When you cut him dead the next time you meet, he’ll be heartbroken -and puzzled. There’s no use getting angry or embar­rassed. Sagittarius is completely free of malice. He blurts out his shockingly direct speech in total innocence. The fact that he usually adds insult to injury when he tries to fix it also escapes him. Don’t judge him too harshly. He means well. Not that he needs your sympathy-or mine. Under his tactless manner is an extremely clever mind and high standards. His unique combination of wit, intelli­gence and fiery drive usually brings the archer straight to the winner’s circle. What really gets you is that both male and female Sagittarians are oblivious to their own blunt speech. They are truly convinced that they are the most diplomatic souls in the world. They’re always saying, "Why, I wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings for anything. I’m very careful about that." And they honestly believe it. In fact, everything they do is done honestly. Pretense and deception in any form appalls them.

Their physical characteristics aren’t hard to learn. Look for a fairly large, well-shaped skull and a high, broad fore­head. The features will be open and cheerful, inviting friendship and the exchange of ideas, and the movements will normally be rapid (though you’ll find a few who move slowly and deliberately). They will often make wide, sweeping gestures, which may be dramatic and vigorous, but possibly not very graceful. Sagittarius can wave his arms to make a point, and upset the ketchup. Hell stride purposefully forward, head high, and trip over the curb­stone. His brief case may snap open at the same time, scattering his papers all over the street.

Jupiter eyes are as bright and alert as a sparrow’s, and they sparkle and twinkle with refreshing humor. The arch­ers are either very tall and athletic looking or shorter than average, with strong, sturdy bodies. The tall ones will re­mind you of thoroughbred horses or spirited colts. In youth especially, many of them have a stray lock of hair which keeps falling over the forehead, like a horse’s mane. They’ll flip it back with a toss of the head or a quick, unconscious movement of the hand-a habit that may last long after a new hairstyle has been adopted in maturity or after bald­ness has set in.

Sagittarians are normally restless. They hate to sit or stand still. The archer is physically conspicuous, if only through his obvious confidence and his disregard for con-      f ventional behavior. He walks as if he’s really go "g some­where. There’s no halting or hesitating. (But remember that a conflicting ascendant can slow down the gait.)

When you first meet him, Sagittarius could be perched on a horse or walking his dog. He loves animals passionate­ly. Sagittarian Frank Sinatra once ordered his driver to stop his car when he saw an injured dog lying in the street. He was on his way to a television rehearsal, but musicians, director and camera crew had to wait until the singer had tenderly carried the dog to a vet, was assured he would be fine in a few days, and had found the dog’s owner.

Sagittarians with natal afflictions to the birth planets can have, instead, a morbid fear of animals, but it doesn’t happen often. Ordinarily, people born under Jupiter’s in­fluence fear nothing. The typical Sagittarian is attracted to danger-in sports and in his job or his hobby. An element      j of risk excites and challenges the archers. They love speed.      I Fast cars, planes-even roller coasters draw them mag­netically. Daredevil test pilots are often Sagittarians. The average Jupiter person enjoys nothing more than a hair­breadth escape of some kind-either physical or emotional. It exhilarates them. They’ll take a chance on literally any­thing (unless a meeker sign on the ascendant dilutes Jupiter’s daring).

There’s a difference between the legendary bluntness of the archer and the brutal speech of the Scorpio. Scorpio tells the truth, completely conscious of its effect, but still refusing to compromise. Sagittarius is totally unaware of the effect when his direct honesty compels him to speak. Scorpio feels little compunction about the wounds his statements cause. To him, the truth is the truth, and if you can’t bear to hear it, don’t ask. The Jupiter person, on the other hand, is crushed and dismayed at his own lack of discretion when he discovers he’s really cut you. It would be touching if it weren’t so infuriating.

What is on the archer’s mind and heart is almost instant­ly on his lips. He’s as frank and earnest as a six-year-old. You can take that old advice, "If you want the truth, go to a child," and switch it to "If you want the truth, go to a Sagiittarian."

There’s a woman in the publishing business in New York about whom the same thing is said. "If you want the truth, go to Kay-if you can stand it." Kay is not only an authen­tic archer, she also has additional Sagittarius influences in her natal chart. A Jupiter girl plus, you might say. She’s warm and generous, typical of the sign, and she has lots of loyal friends who love her, also typical of the sign. They would have to be loyal, and they would have to love her to survive incidents like the time three years ago when she opened up her big heart and decided to completely outfit her secretary for the winter. The young girl was flat broke, since she had just been through a drizzly financial disaster, and she was touched to tears. Others had sympathized, but until Kay, no one had offered a concrete helping hand. Leave it to Sagittarius. (You can read that several ways.)

One fine fall day, the two of them set forth for Saks Fifth Avenue in a fever of excited female anticipation. The poor secretary was delirious with happiness-until they entered the elevator. Suddenly, the Sagittarian gave her a long, appraising look, and said quite firmly and quite loudly, "We’d better try the Fat Girl’s Department first."

Blind ecstasy was instantly replaced by numb shock. The secretary’s fiance had always told her she was "pleasingly plump." Now, in one flashing painful moment of Sagittarian honesty, she had become a baby blimp. To this very day, the young girl remembers how everyone in the car turned to stare at her curiously, as she wondered if her fiance secretly thought she was grotesque. But good old Kay fixed it. Noticing the girl’s discomfiture, she hastily made a joke to jolly her up. "And if we can’t find anything to fit you there, we can always try the tents in the camping depart­ment." The Sagittarian howled at her own hilarity. So did the people in the elevator.

Just after Kay’s warm, generous excursion with her secretary, she cheered up her boss, the publisher, who had been on doctor’s orders not to drink for a year. One solid year. He had had infectious hepatitis. No liquor. Not one drop. After going for twelve long months without even wetting his lips, he was justifiably proud of his will power. Kay, just freshly back from Europe, paid him a typical Sagittarian compliment. "About your drinking," she began, and he smiled, waiting. "I hear you’ve been trying to stay on the wagon." Trying? After twelve months without a sin­gle drop? Trying? As he recovered his composure, she went on. "Say, you know there’s a party tomorrow night for Joe’s book? I thought I ought to warn you, but I never get to see you alone." Warn him? Warn him about what? The publisher forgot his chagrin under this new threat. She continued: "We were all hoping that, well, this is embarrassing-but we were all hoping that you wouldn’t spoil the party." By now, the publisher was speechless. Not Sagittarius.

"What I mean is, we hope you don’t mess up the evening by being a wet blanket about not drinking-and all that. Joe likes his martinis, and after all, his book is a Literary Guild selection. If you slink around like some fugitive from prohibition and make everybody miserable, just because you have this terrible disease, it will throw a damper on the whole thing. Say, can people catch it from being in the same room with you?"

The publisher somehow managed to stammer that she was safe, then gathered his injured dignity together long enough to remind her that he had hosted parties himself for authors like Edna Ferber and Ernest Hemingway with­out mishap. "I have always been told," he said evenly, be­tween clenched teeth, "that my manners are impeccable." The Sagittarian, blind to her boss’s near apoplexy, heartily agreed with him. "That’s for sure. You’re a fabulous host. No one in the publishing business can figure it out." The publisher had just barely enough breath left to ask. Figure what out? The archer’s answer zinged home. "How is it that you can be such a great host and such a perfectly lousy guest? Your own parties are marvelous, but you al­ways pull such big boo-boos every time you go to some­body else’s whing-ding. It’s really weird."

Then she noticed something else weird. Her boss’s face. It was turning purple. Suddenly contrite, the friendly Sagittarian immediately apologized. "Gee, I hope I didn’t say the wrong thing. It won’t matter how you behave anyway. Joe thinks you’re really swell. He was just telling us all today that he’s glad he decided to come to us even though his old agent had been against it. He can’t under­stand why he’s heard such awful things about you. I told him people were just jealous. Say, you don’t look so hot. Are you sure your doctor knows what he’s doing?" (There are rumors that Kay’s boss went off the wagon that night, permanently.) The Sagittarian? Oh, she’s happily helping new authors get over their nervousness at the same publishing company. Fired? He wouldn’t dare fire her. As I said in the beginning, everybody loves her.

Few people can resent the archer for very long, because he’s so transparently free of harmful intent. You’ll see this lovable, likable, intelligent idealist almost anywhere or any time. You may catch him shooting out his careless arrows from your television screen some Sunday night, leaving his guest stars numb and speechless with astonishment at his frankness. He may be your cab driver some Monday morning, the one who cheerfully explains to you why he hates stingy tippers-or you could find him serving you in a restaurant some Friday evening, earnestly advising you not to order the oysters because they’re a little on the dred side.

Most archers sincerely try to cheer you up. At least, that’s what they start out to do, but sometimes it falls a little short of the good intention. I once had a Sagittarius manager who tried to boost my morale by telling me how much better my hair looked than it usually did when I hadn’t washed it or rolled it up for more than a week. But he’s still a good friend, so you can see it’s useless to get exasperated. Besides, now and then Sagittarians can come up with a dilly of a statement that sends your spirits really soaring, and makes up for all the rest. They can offer pro­foundly wise counsel, when you’ve had time to analyze their viewpoints. This is a fire sign, so most archers are extroverts, talkative and forward. There are a few who are painfully shy and timid, but even these are full of original ideas-and they’re just as blunt. In fact, the quiet, fey Sagittarians with the reclusive, meek ways can dream the biggest dreams and aim for the highest goals. Introvert or extrovert, the archer is a promoter at heart. The rare one who doesn’t say much could be planning something really spectacular to spring on an unsupecting world. His mind is busy even when his tongue is still, so you have to remember his Sun sign is always there at the bottom of his nature, lest he lull you into not being prepared for his next startling move.

Most of the time the typical Sagittarian is happy and gre­garious, but his temper can fiare like a sky rocket if he’s pushed around by people who abuse his natural friendliness or who get too familiar. Rebellion against authority and stuffy society is also common. Sagittarius will never run away from a fight or call for help. The women can lose their normally pleasant dispositions and let go with a barrage of unexpected plain talk that puts troublemakers right where they belong. The men will use their fists and scorn weapons. A rude, insulting person who has challenged Jupiter’s good nature often find himself sprawled on the sidewalk wondering where that truck came from.

High-spirited Jupiter people can’t stand to be accused of dishonesty. An unjust accusation or a slur against their integrity will make righteous indignation flame high, but after an especially fiery display of temper, the typical Sagittarian will feel remorse and try to make amends. He’ll black your eye and put you in the hospital, but he’ll prob­ably shower you with flowers and sympathy the next day. The archer usually speaks and acts first, and considers the consequences later.

Many Sagittarians seek the stage, and no one is happier giving encore after encore for an excited audience. He’ll sing himself hoarse or dance his shoes off for the sheer exhilaration of performing. Show business is full of archers.

There’s a strong religious streak in Jupiter men and women, especially in their youth. They’re intensely inter­ested in church affairs, but as they grow older they can be­come skeptical of dogma, inclined to question former faiths and search for a perfection of values. It’s a rare Sagittarian who doesn’t have a matched set of luggage. They love to travel, and there’s usually at least one suitcase, well worn from hundreds of trips, that’s kept packed and ready for in­stant use.

You’ll always notice something child-like about the typical naive, brave, optimistic Sagittarian. He refuses to accept the seriousness of life, though some of them manage responsibility with admirable conscientiousness in later years. Still, they’re never truly happy when they’re burdened by it. Jupiter natures rebel against confinement, and too much of it can bring on serious illness. If the Sagittarian can survive that, and the wear and tear of scattering his energies, he’ll live to be as old as Methuselah. Most archers retain their faculties, razor sharp and refined by age, to the end. Senility is almost never a problem.

His sensitive areas are the hips, lungs, liver, arms, hands, shoulders, intestines and feet. The Sagittarian love of sports and the outdoors may bring accidents through reck­less over-activity. Hospitals can rarely keep him bedded down more than a few days. He gives in to sickness reluctantly, and usually recuperates with amazing swiftness. Life seldom defeats these people permanently. They believe that tomorrow will surely be better than yesterday, and to­day is pretty interesting. Moody spells are gone almost be­fore the clouds have a chance to obscure the sunshine.

Every Sagittarian is something of a gambler, unless there’s a cautious, conservative influence in the natal chart. Very few of them can resist throwing a couple of bills on the green felt. The sound of dice rattling in the dealer’s hand attracts some Jupiter men and women like the siren song of Circe. With adverse aspects between the planets at birth, an archer can gamble away a fortune, or throw the rent money on the nose of a favorite horse. Las Vegas attracts Sagittarians like sugar attracts flies. So do the more staid gambles of the stock market and real estate. Fortunately, the majority of them keep the urge to specu­late under control, but even these will risk a few dollars now and then on a fast poker game or a lottery ticket.

Both the timid and the forceful ones will take a chance on love anytime. Sagittarians plunge into romance with reckless abandon, but they often stop short suddenly when marriage is mentioned. They think it over, then go ahead and make a mistake after careful consideration. Although the archer is warm and wonderful in love relationships, he’s a little tricky to catch. Symbolically he’s half horse-half ‘ man, which obviously gives him a head start in any game of chase, if he doesn’t stumble over his own feet.

Among the most unpleasant traits of some Sagittarians are a tendency to violent temper, a love of too much food and drink, which can lead to obesity or alcoholism, mental brilliance stained by burning sarcasm, or extreme eccen­tricity and the inability to keep a secret. But none of these need be permanent flaws. They can be easily rooted out with Sagittarian determination. The average Jupiter man will loan you money without ever making you ashamed to ask or even obligated to repay it (barring a stingy Moon sign). The Jupiter housewife will adopt the home­less orphan or the lost animal, and always make room for one more at her table.

Sagittarians have a tendency to go off on tangents. The archer will take on a great cause with blind devotion and believe that the possibilities outweigh the shortcomings, an attitude that results from his brilliant imagination and progressive thinking. He never fails to present his case with cool, reasonable arguments, sometimes cutting the op­position to ribbons with sharp satire, and yet remaining aloof from the fray, somehow. The fire is always ready to leap forth, however, when anyone unfairly attacks his miracle or his cause of the moment. He’s a formidable foe, because he aims straight when he takes the time to focus on the victim. His arrows then rarely miss their mark. They’re dipped in clever wit and sharp enough to pierce the strongest armor.

Although a few December people are genuinely funny, it’s a curious fact that when most of them tell a joke, the timing is slightly off and they fluff the punch line. The audience-at home or in the theater-will roar at the obvious awkwardness, and the jovial Jupiter soul will think everyone is laughing at his great sense of comedy timing. It can be hilarious.

Male or female, the archer can either behave in such a slap-dash fashion, or pretend to have such unassuming caanners when he chooses, that you may get the impression bis mind isn’t too sharp or that he’s timid. True, there are a few December-born people who occasionally exhibit eccentric reclusive habits, but that just gives them more Opportunity to sharpen their intelligence into genius.

Although Sagittarians have fantastic memories that tell them exactly what they said and where they were on April 14, 1939, and they remember every detail of books and inovies, they can forget where they left their coats. Most of them are constantly losing gloves, car keys, wallets-and some people are unkind enough to say they would lose •their heads if they weren’t fastened on their necks.

A Sagittarian can never successfully tell a lie. No one believes him for a minute. Deceit is unnatural to the archer, and when he tries to dabble in it, the exposure is usually swift and sure. He’s always better off to stick to the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Even his observant, highly aware mind won’t rescue him from the results of an excursion into deception, unless he has Scorpio rising. I know a secretive archer who has such a Pluto ascendant, and therefore manages very well to play a good chess game. This kind of a Jupiter person is an exception, but be pre­pared to meet a few.

To the Sagittarian, life is secretly a circus, and he’s the clown, rolling and tumbling through purple hoops in a sky-blue suit. His face is smeared with the bright, gay colors of greasepaint, and his eyes glitter with curiosity and fun. As the music of the calliope gets louder, he stumbles and falls, then executes a perfect somersault on the back of a prancing pony. On his fingers he wears three turquoise rings; on his toes are bells that ring like the chimes in a distant church spire that disappears into the clouds. The archer happily blows a lustrous tin horn, made of the soft, malleable metal that’s barely affected by moisture. Whether he’s bold or backward, the true nature of this generous idealist is as merry as the Christmas holly berry. Bravely, he pins a large carnation over his big heart, and curves his bow toward the sky. When he aims straight, he shoots higher than man can see-past the stars-to the place where all dreams are really born.

Famous Sagittarius Personalities

Beethoven Arthur Brisbane William Buckley, Jr. Maria Callas Andrew Carnegie Edith Cavell Winston Churchill Noel Coward Sammy Davis Joe DiMaggio Walt Disney Betty Grable Grimaldi

Mark Twain

Julie Harris Pope John XXM John Lindsay Mary Martin David Merrick John Milton Robert Moses John Osbonae Lee Remick Lillian Russell Frank Sinatra David Susskind James Thurber