it's up to the universe...

partly thanks to my friend Adam's breezy return to Chicago for The Bird Carnival (check it out at birdcarnival.com), I've been checking my horoscope ritualistically for the last week or so. Usually the first thing Adam does, after arriving at the coffeeshop, is flip open the Sun-Times to the horoscope section and read his. Sometimes he offers to read mine to me.

I'm not fond of the Sun-Times 'scopes. I turned against them after reading mine once a while ago and the woman suggested going shopping as a way to enjoy the day and feel better. I also liked the male to woman ratio before the man died (I'm resisting a bad joke there), and now with two women, the 'scopes just seem plain trite and silly. As opposed to being trite and mostly harmless.

I quite enjoy the Tribune's version, if only for the simple fact that the day is rated on a scale of one to ten, and then a couple lines about the day are revealed. I find it interesting to compare the number from yesterday to the next day and see if it was really an eight like they said. Some parts of the day might have been an eight, but not the entirety of the day.

Anyway, I find it kind of relieving, that if I feel like it's a three, then the universe (by way of the Tribune's scopes--which are alarmingly or rather, ironically, located in the same section as the comics) dictates I have a seven that day, I feel like I should just buck up and stop being a sad sally.

and you know, this upholds my grand tradition of having someone else to blame for the day I've had.

ha ha.