A little over a third of my life ago, when things were very different, I was dating a girl who had an unusual approach to
horoscopes. During the period that we lived together, each morning, I’d see her perform a peculiar dance (at the time, I thought that it was things like this that defined
her particular insanity: later, I learned better).
Trying to date this photo? Those kids in the background are my sisters.
Trying to date anybody IN this photo? Tread carefully…
She’d get up and check her horoscope on Teletext (again: if you needed any clue as to how long ago we’re talking, there it is): that was usually her first port of call for her
astrological guidance. She’d sit there, waiting for Scorpio to load (at the end of the second page of Teletext horoscopes)… and then decide whether she liked it or not. And if she
didn’t like it: if that particular horoscope didn’t suit her – she’d reject it. She’d go and check her horoscope in the newspaper, and see if that one was better. And failing that,
she’d go onto the Internet and find a horoscope online; and so on, until she found one that she wanted. (I wonder what she’d have done if she’d have found a fortune cookie that she
didn’t approve of? Eat another?)
Given my description of her in this blog post, this crazy-face-picture might be a more-fitting photo of my ex-.
At the time, I mocked her for it. But over time, I’ve come to see that “choosing your own horoscope” is no less-insane, and perhaps a little saner, than believing in the power of
horoscopes to begin with. To argue against her behaviour on the grounds that she’s choosing a horoscope rather than using the ‘correct’ one, one must first accept the
legitimacy of the process of assigning people personality characteristics based on the relative positions of the Earth, Sun and distant stars at the time of their birth. You can argue
against her on the grounds that she’s crazy, of course, but I think we can agree that somebody who reads several horoscopes and chooses one isn’t any more
crazy than somebody who reads just one horoscope and then accepts that as legitimate.
Your horoscope for this week: you will choose a different zodiac sign and use that, instead.
The craziest thing about my ex-, in this particular quirk, though, was that she tried to justify her logic when I challenged it. My friend Selina once tweeted that she would select her favourite horoscope from
the list of 12 zodiac signs available to her from a single source. I think that’s marginally more-sane again, than my ex-: while my ex- used to read the same star sign from several
different media (demonstrating that she harbours a belief in astrology to begin with, but that she finds things made by humans to be flawed), Selina’s actions show that she’s able to
take the whole thing with sufficient sarcasm that it almost doesn’t matter.
A yet still saner option might be to write one’s own horoscope, rather than funneling yourself into “one of twelve”. It’s still a little bit silly, but at least you’re taking
responsibility for your own destiny. Furthermore, writing your own horoscope might be considered akin to an affirmation, which can act as an effective method of self-help. For example, if my ex- were to write her
own horoscope, every day, which read “Scorpio: you will no longer read horoscopes nor believe in the power of astrology”, then eventually she might
come to fulfil her own prophecy.
A not-uncommon Japanese superstition is that your blood type is an indicator of your personality. Which is, I suppose, marginally more-likely to be true than star signs, because at
least it could hypothetically have a basis in science. Still wrong, but at least you can see what they were thinking.
Many, many years ago, I found a service online that allowed you to change your star sign, for free. You basically filled in a form with your name and your chosen new-star-sign, and it’d
give you a certificate that you could print out (or some HTML code to put on your GeoCities page or whatever… did I mention this this was a long time ago). I used the service, and for
years afterwards joked that I had never been comfortable
in the body of a Capricorn (I mean: financially prudent, pragmatic and mature‽) and was far better suited to my adopted sign of Aquarius (humanitarian, inventive, head-in-the-clouds –
sound more like somebody you know). My ex- countered, saying that it wasn’t possible to change one’s star sign, and couldn’t see the hypocrisy of the
statement.
Recently, somebody using my Free Deed Poll website asked me if they can use a deed poll to change
their date of birth (hint: no, and don’t be stupid), and I was reminded of the change-your-star-sign website from so long ago. It’s gone down, now, but I have a half-hearted urge to
recreate it. Perhaps for April Fools’ next year, or something.
Or maybe I’ll have forgotten about it and moved on to some other crazy idea. Aquarians, eh?
Muggles kept wandering past and hampering my search (which was already slowed down by the fact that I didn’t “get” the hint; ah well!). Ran out of time on my lunchbreak: I’ll have to
come back another time.
What a shame for this, one of the best caches in Oxford, to disappear. CotswoldOx: if you’re not planning on
replacing it, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind if I did so instead? Drop me a message.
Hunted as well as I was willing to, without putting my hands into anything particularly disgusting in the improvised toilet that is this GZ. :-( No luck, though: perhaps I’m not looking
in the right place, or perhaps it’s somewhere that I wasn’t happy to put my fingers…
Basically next door to where I work, so stepped out for a quick lunchtime expedition. Easy enough find, but some stealth was required: muggles everywhere!
My last hunt of the day, as it started to get dark and my GPSr’s battery finally died and it made a sad noise and fell asleep. The hint only told me what I already knew: my signal had
been spot on! But that didn’t help me find the cache. I wondered if it might have been too high for me to see, or reach, so I climbed a tree (haven’t done that in a while!) and looked
down at where I suspected it might be, but no luck. Searched a lot of places, but eventually had to give up.
Wonderful location, though: I’ll certainly be coming back for another hunt.
Battery was starting to get low on my phone, which I was using as my GPS and which I’d forgotten to properly charge before I left the office this afternoon, so I didn’t hunt for long…
but I wonder if it might be missing, because that’s a few of us now that haven’t been able to spot it…
A narrowboater had moored nearby and struck up a conversation with me as I parked my bike and sat on the bench near this cache. It’s a shame he was so friendly, because it gave me no
opportunity to surreptitiously reach for the cache!
Took a diversion on my way home from work to try to get this and some of the Route Canal series. Unfortunately I failed at this, my first cache of the day, when I found that the
location of the cache has somewhat turned into a building site – a bustle of workmen coming and going and where I THINK the cache is made inaccessible by a pile of construction
materials. Shall try again another time.
It’s been over a year since I’ve done a “serious” caching expedition, and the clue threw me for a while as I tried to dredge up an old memory of what it meant. Once I’d done that, it
was easy… although I did have a moment of panic when I dropped the lid of the cache and (between batches of passing joggers) hunted for it on the floor, only to later discover that it
had landed on my bike pannier rack.
A quick and easy find as I cycled home to Kidlington up the Oxford canal.
Battery was getting really low now, so I decided that if I was only going to be able to manage one more cache between here and home, it ought to be a good one. GC3VJAT (“Duke’s Cut”) looked exciting, so I popped this cache back in its spot and sped off to the North.