my weekly confession

I'm addicted to horoscopes. There's something so intriguing about lining up the stars to suggest your future or your present. And something so brilliant about that vague line horoscope writers have to walk so that every once in a while "My horoscope was exactly right!" Which, of course, brings to mind the scene from Sliding Doors where Anna is attempting to make Helen feel better about her break-up by reading Helen's ex's horoscope--"With Mars. . . you'll be killed in a freak napalm incident, etc." Genius stuff. (If you haven't seen Sliding Doors, you should. Seriously. If only for John Hannah. And what more do you need?)

So my horoscope for today, courtesy of whatever random source Facebook is pulling from:

The past is returning to haunt you or help you, depending on what you were up to
back then. Karma isn't always as obvious as it is today, so it's a good reminder
to stay on the universe's good side.

I've been debating which part of my past they're suggesting. Past evil boyfriend who I should have realized was evil? The past month in which a whopping 0.00% has been completed on my thesis? The hamburger I shouldn't have had today? Okay, these are all haunting pasts. Let's think of a few helping pasts: a new Fob project, which has me writing again; a new CD suggested months ago by Renaissance Girl (The Weakerthans Reconstruction Site). . . if I'm using the word "new," does it still count?

Oh, and what I learned today about karma*: it can kill you. Slowly, softly, sometimes strumming, but it will kill.

* What I really learned about karma can be discovered by emailing me, but I try to keep it PG around here. PG or a very mild PG-13. Hmm. Maybe I should go by the UK's rating system. It just makes more sense.