The Horoscope Project


Day 6: Three Little Wishes





If you were granted three wishes, what would they be? That sounds more like a fantasy than a horoscope, doesn’t it? There’s no advice or foretelling of how your day will be. Or perhaps the advice is to wile away your day, dreaming up wishes. But lack of guidance aside, today’s horoscope was an odd coincidence considering that I just finished the first draft of my book, I DREAM OF EUGENE, a story about a woman who finds a Genie. In my novel, however, more than three wishes are granted. I figure if Stephanie Meyer can make vampires sparkle, I can have Genies giving more than three wishes.



Let’s face it, at some point we have all wondered what we would pick as wishes if we were lucky enough to stumble across a magic lamp. I thought long and hard about this and, of course, the obvious choices of money, fame, and thinner thighs instantly came to mind.



But, if I were to be serious about my fake wishes, my first one would be for success in my life. This would manifest in many ways, and honestly is a way of getting several wishes for the price of one. If I were successful in my writing career, I would not only finally get a book published, but everything I wrote would be #1 on the best seller list. Having several best sellers would cover fame and money, but I think that thinner thighs are always going to be a pipe dream.



Any success I wish for would also affect my family life. My husband’s massage therapy business would return to its former numbers from before the recession. This would mean he wouldn’t have to be a massage slave at Massage Envy anymore. I will miss the slave boy outfit, though. He really has the legs for it.



With a wish for success, my children would continue on their path to becoming responsible, well-rounded people and my son would, much to the relief of his sisters, not grow up to be a Power Ranger. Besides being a little creepy, this would solve the problem of him finding the Red Rangers suit in an adult size. I can’t even find one to fit him for this Halloween.



Of course, none of this imaginary success would matter if my family or I were ill, so I would have to wish for a healthy life for myself and all of those I love. Let’s face it; I can’t be going on a book tour if I am plagued with a ailment that causes chronic flatulence, can I? I sure wouldn’t be invited back a second time, that’s for sure.



So that leaves me with a third wish. I already have success (fame, money, zillions of best sellers), and life long health, what else should I ask for? After a long deliberation, it’s a toss up between getting rid of the Power Rangers theme song that constantly plays in my head, and going a full day without hearing the words ‘One Direction’ coming from my daughter’s mouth. That is a tough decision.



Go Go Power Rangers….

The Horoscope Project


Day 5: Directing Debut



You are always the one to be directing. Well, duh!! As the mother of three, I have no choice but to direct. Not that I mind so much because as I mentioned before, I was born bossy. I was destined to be a mom, or a dictator. Considering that I don’t live in a third world country, I think I made the wise career choice.



But my directing doesn’t stop at motherhood; it also seeps into my work life. I am a crossing guard, something that I take profound joy in. As a crossing guard, I am given a uniform, with props; a swanky florescent vest and a stop sign. How many of you can claim to have such great accoutrements at your job? My vest and sign announce to the world, at least the part of the world that drives along Nutt road, that I am in charge. I am directing children when it is safe to cross the road, and ordering cars to wait until the signal is given- the lowering of the stop sign and me hurrying out of the way before someone runs me over.



In my other part-time job, that of a greeting card goddess, I instruct the befuddled masses as to how to find just the right card for their special occasion. I intervene when they are foolishly looking in the anniversary section for a child’s birthday card; I take command as the little old ladies wander into the rude humorous card section and set them on the right path. But most importantly, I always direct the customers to where the .99 cent cards are because I don’t make a commission. I refuse to try to push an expensive musical card that costs more than what I make an hour.



As far as massage is concerned, I direct my clients to get on the table, turn over, and stop sitting at their computers for eight hours a day. This causes their shoulders to be the consistency of concrete which makes my job more difficult.



Yes, I was born to direct and have mastered it better than Scorsese or Spielberg; without any of the money or fame.

copyright 2012 cwaldman

Day 4: Can We Talk?

The Horoscope Project

Day 4: Can We Talk?

A discussion is in your future. Allow your mind to drift to better times. That didn’t sound good. What lame-ass conversation was I going to have, that the horoscope Gods suggested that I should take a mental vacation during it?

I guess the better question is, who was I to have this tedious discussion with? I had a feeling it wasn’t my husband. We have been married fourteen years and are about ten years past the big discussion phase of our relationship. We are more at the ‘Who’s cooking dinner?’ and “For the love of God, why can’t you ever remember to refill the filtered water pitcher’ era of our conversations.

So that pretty much leaves one of my kids as the discusser and me as the discussee. At first I thought it was going to be with my twelve year old daughter, but she was too busy stalking One Direction on her I pod to chat about anything with me. Anyways, her idea of dialogue lately involves a lot of eye rolling and telling me about all the things that she thinks were stupid. I made a mental note to check back in with her after high school and went in search of a less hormonally challenged child.

I decided to ask my seven year old son if he would like to have a discussion with me. He can always be counted on for his interesting take on life. He, true to form, had a diatribe at the ready. The subject was one of great importance. Why are all Star Wars Lego kits so big, and more importantly, how was he going to get one.

A very thought provoking question, indeed.

I suggested that I could sell our house so I could afford to buy him one of the exorbitantly priced toys, but that presented the problem of having no where to keep his Lego kits once he was done building them.

During our conversation, my mind didn’t drift off once. Probably because talking with him is much more interesting than speaking with most adults. I’m more likely to let my mind wander during a mature discussion where someone utters the words ‘Romney’ or ‘Obama’. To be honest, I would much rather talk about the dilemma of choosing between a Star Wars or a Harry Potter Lego kit or whether to forgo building blocks altogether for a purchase of a Power Ranger.

There is no way your mind can wander while watching an episode of the Power Rangers, not with an explosion every few minutes and creepy Nyloks crawling around. Maybe if they would have set off explosions behind Obama and Romney during their debate, I would have watched tuned in.

But I digress.

I asked my son later on in the day if he wanted to have another discussion, to which he answered that he wasn’t finished with our previous conversation about Legos. After a few minutes of closure on that subject, we moved onto an even more interesting topic: What would happen if cats took over the world. We both decided that under cat rule, dogs would be forced to dress like cats and everyone would have to use litter pans and eat fish.

Apparently, if dogs ruled, they would be much nicer than cats and would simply make humans their pets.

Now we are getting somewhere. I, for one, wouldn’t mind sleeping most of the day away, going for long walks, and having many belly rubs. The neutering, well, I don’t think most human males would agree to that.

Admit it though; wouldn’t you rather discuss the topic of animals ruling than politics?

The Horoscope Project

Day 3: Can We Still Be Friends?

A friend means a lot to you, but they could develop into stronger feelings. Be careful!

Okay, so listen. You do mean a lot to me, but you have to stop crushing, as it so clearly states in my horoscope. I know it’s hard, after all, I am a desirable woman who is pushing fifty and happens to have a rockin’ middle-aged, mom bod, but one of us has to come to our senses.

All of you are special to me, and I’m not sure which one of you is developing these stronger feelings. I’m just going to assume that it is all of you, because that makes the most sense. As hard as it is, you’ll have to stop. Realize that it’s not worth giving up your husband or wife; you know the one that actually goes to the gym and doesn’t consider cookies as a main course.

I am a married woman after all, and have high moral standards, so I beg of you, let’s just be friends. (Unless of course you are George Clooney or that hot guy who plays Thor, in which case I have to admit that I have developed strong feelings for you)

Day 2

The Horoscope Project

Day 2: Above All, Remain Persistent

Apparently, others will be touchy and difficult, but I should remain persistent. I am also not supposed to get into a power play with anyone. After a day of sucking it up, I am to be all smiles tonight. Yeah, right.

First off, It’s a given that one of my three children will prove to be difficult at some point in the day, and usually it is the one who likes Power Rangers. He gave me a hard time about; putting his shoes on, brushing his hair, wanting juice- NOT milk, reading, and a million other things I’m too exhausted to remember.  

As far as a power play is concerned, my middle child is under the impression that she really knows best and is only living under her parent’s rule, because her feet can’t reach the pedals in the car yet.

 So just another day here.

I tried my very best to remain persistent today, as I do everyday, because if I don’t, I am dead in the water with them. You can never show your fear. It’s a little like living with wolves, if you want to know the truth.

Oh, and as far as anyone being touchy, well any parent of a teenage girl knows that you ask them how their day was, and get a face full of hormonal tears, so, yeah, just another day.

Tonight, I will paste a smile on my face and hope that my family doesn’t think I have gone over the deep end

The Horoscope Project-Day 1: Flirting With Disaster

                                   THE HOROSCOPE PROJECT

                            DAY 1: FLIRTING WITH DISASTER

I had an interesting idea the other day after reading my horoscope. Let me first point out that I don’t normally feel a need to seek out my horoscope to guide me through the day; it just happens to be on the same page as the comics, something I do feel a need to consult every morning.

The idea was this: What if I were to follow the advice for my sign, Scorpio, no matter what it was. What would that be like? It may not seem like a difficult task for most, but for me it was monumental. You see, I don’t cotton to being told what to do, and I never have. I’m more about bossing others around, which as a mother of three, comes in quite handy. I am told that even as a toddler, I was a Miss Bossipants. I would instruct my father on the correct way to change my diaper. Someone had to inform him because he obviously didn’t know what the heck he was doing.

So for me to be told by some ambiguous person to lay low today or contact an old friend or party hard tonight, had me automatically digging my heels in. Even if it was something I would normally be doing anyway, such as take it easy tonight, I suddenly don’t want to do it if it is dictated by someone else.

Which is why I thought this would prove to be either a fascinating experiment or a gigantic mistake; we would see. I plan to take a few of the more intriguing horoscopes in a week and try to follow them to the T, or something close to a T, perhaps a U or V.

 My first horoscope read: Scorpio, be flirty today! You are naturally sultry when you flirt! Who knew? So I had to try to pull off a sultry flintiness while wearing my normal outfit of khaki Capri pants, sneakers, and a T shirt. That would be a challenge. But if anyone could make ‘momwear’ sexy it would be a Scorpio. We are the passionate and slutty sign, after all, so I was confident I could do it.

The only problem I had was, who would I flirt with? I didn’t have any plans to go anywhere that day. That left my husband and my dog to be the victims, I mean, recipients of my charms.  I should point out that if I even look in my husband’s direction, he thinks I have lovin’ on my mind and he’s all over me like a lion on a three legged wildebeest. In fact, I can’t even have gas pains without him thinking it’s Go Time. I had things that I needed to accomplish, so that was out of the question. I was going to have to look elsewhere. For those of you that may think my husband might feel hinky about my flirting with other men, don’t worry, I was only doing this for experimental purposes, he’d understand. But if he doesn’t understand, I was counting on the fact that he’d never find out about it because he doesn’t know how to turn on the computer to read my blog.

So I headed to my home away from home, the local café where I do a lot of my writing. Now all I had to do was to think way, way back to my single days when I would flirt on a regular basis. But that was BC (before children) and since then, all of my memory storage units dropped out of my uterus while giving birth. My past was a blur, but thanks to the many hours of watching Nickelodeon tween shows with my daughters, I was well versed in how to let guys know you are hot. I just had to play with my hair, giggle, say OMG, and moisten my lips and the men folk would be all over me.

Fortunately, there were subjects (men) at the café. I had to rule out the dudes that work there, though, because I was hoping to show my face at the café in the future.     Sadly, there weren’t many unaccompanied fellows on the day I visited. The only person who was alone, was ahead of me in line, ordering coffee. This person was wearing a pink shirt, had longish hair, and had an amorphous shape. I had no idea if it was a man or a woman. Even his/her voice was androgynous. When he, as it turned out, turned around, I noticed stubble on his chin, but a belly that looked pregnant. I guess the stomach could be just a beer belly, but I wasn’t completely convinced of his masculine gender until another patron addressed him as John.

I hesitated with proceeding with my experiment because John looked like a card carrying member of the Phoenixville Club for the Weird and Wacky, which has a roster in the hundreds. I didn’t want to come onto this guy and end up with my own personal stalker, so I sat back and observed for a few moments. I soon found out more about him than I ever wanted to know. John was one of those annoying people who’s under the impression that he was alone in an office with the door closed, which meant that he could make multiple loud calls on his cell phone.

 Unfortunately, I could overhear every one of his conversations. In the first one, John said, “That really does something for me. You’re making me all hot.”

 Take my word for it; NOBODY wants to see John getting all hot and bothered.

 A few seconds later he said, “Now you’re just becoming too needy.” This guy really blows hot and cold. Nothing to fear, because on his third call, he talks to his same lady friend and says, “When you talk baby talk to me, it drives me crazy!”

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad that every shoe has it’s mate, but I don’t want to be witness to any pot-bellied, long-haired, pink-shirt wearing dude lacing up said shoe, if you know what I mean.

I immediately aborted any ideas of flirting for the day since what I overheard had the same effect as taking a cold shower naked on the Polar Ice Caps.

I left the café thinking that the idea of flirting with my dog suddenly didn’t seem so creepy, when I spotted the pretzel shop a few stores down. There were men that work there; men who looked like men and not pregnant homely women. Frankly, the thought of yummy carbohydrates has been known to put me in an amorous mood, so I walked in.

 I approached the front counter where a good looking young (enough to be my son) man asked, “May I help you?”

I gave my biggest smile, tossed my hair, and said in a very perky voice, “Yes, I would like five mini pretzels.” The poor guy looked startled by my enthusiasm, but got me my order. Another man in the back of the shop started to sweat the moment he spotted me. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that he was standing in front of an enormous oven.

 He said, “Would you like some free pretzels?”

My Scorpio seductive skills apparently weren’t as rusty as I thought, because I walked away with about eighteen pretzels I didn’t want.

I guess I still got it, even though I don’t remember ever having it in the first place.

Copyright 2012 cwaldman