Ten years ago when I lived in South Korea, it was the Year of the Tiger, and no-one was reproducing if they could help it. Tigers are not nice people, apparently, and have a hard time finding mates. No-one wants to be married to one, I guess having a tiger in your bed isn't all it's cracked up to be. Aharharharhar, get it? Me neither. Anyway, most North Americans I knew thought it was ridiculous, and were not shy about expressing their very superior western opinions with regards to the Chinese zodiac.
About half-way though my year there, a Canadian who was about as stupid as they come arrived at my school. Her first sentence to me was, "Hi, what's your name, what's your sign?"
"Uh, Whippersnapper? I'm a... Leo?" I said.
"Oh," she snarled. And for the rest of our time together, she barely spoke to me. She was a Virgo, and apparently us Leos and Virgos don't get along so well together. Like oil and vinegar, Bailey's and vodka and a Chinese/Italian restaurant that problematically names itself Chittily (it went under, sur-prise!), lions and virgins clash. That was certainly true in our case. I sure couldn't stand HER, that's for certain.
Leos are supposed to be bossy, headstrong things, the kind of people who enter a room and TAKE OVER. Being almost six feet tall, you might think that was true of me, but, um, SO NOT, I'm shy, dude. (Unless I'm in my classroom and Billy is talking through my lesson on carbon bonds. Then WATCH OUT.) A long time ago, during a prolonged and worrisome period of unemployment, my own mother suggested, and only in a half-joking way, that I pursue a career in the S and M field. As she so delicately phrased it, when I put on a pair of tall, leather boots I assume an Ilsa of Auschwitz look that could prove profitable with the corporate CEO crowd who enjoy being forced to lick toilet seats in their spare time. But, uh, no thanks. My birthday may fall in the summer, but deep at heart, I'm an Aquarius. At least, that's what I tell zodiac freaks now, when they ask.
I mention all this because the Chinese New Year, for reasons mentioned above, always makes me reminisce about my year in the Orient, and that idiot who refused to speak to me because our signs clashed. That's why I actually paused on the Horoscope page of Saturday's Globe and Mail yesterday to see what it had to say about us obnoxious, vain, overbearing lions. It said:
Partners and colleagues have been rather demanding of late and if there are any simmering tensions they are likely to come to the boil this weekend. You may feel justified in losing your temper but you will gain more in the long-term if you stay calm. You cannot afford to lose your head.
Well, I have been trying to stay calm. I've been trying to stay calm for the entire four years we've lived in this house. "Simmering tensions??" I've been placed in a pot and slow-cooked into a gluey, miserable, gelatinous wreck of a human who can barely remember a time when life was cool and tidy and I danced through days with grace and ease. Because of THIS!
And THIS!
Arghh, and THIS!!!!!
No. No, I'm NOT going to show you pictures of our basement and garage, you nosy bunch of peeping toms! I have some pride left, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
Pride, maybe, but not much left with regards to mental well-being. Basically, I think I've really snapped. Our "clearing-out-the- office-so-we-can-go-on-and-lead- normal-lives" project has transformed our home from just an ordinary squalid hovel to Chaos Central, a place that fills my heart with sadness and despair every time I walk through the door. I post the above pictures so that you can understand, if not totally relate to, my plight. (None of you would be stupid enough to allow your house to get this out of hand, I am certain.) I've tried to explain to him that I am actually VERY easy-going: Most women could never stand this, not for one second, and would have told him to get out and take all of his lousy junk with him A LONG TIME AGO. But everything I say just falls on deaf ears, and my complaints are dismissed as those of a common nag. I recently whined about my situation to a friend of mine (male) who said, "But Whippersnapper, you knew he was a slob and a pack rat from the beginning." Meaning, "You knew what you were getting into, suck it up babe." I guess he has a point, but the reality is, things lose their charm after you've lived with them for a while. My father, with his strong Scandinavian accent, charmed the pants off my mom (literally, I guess, ugh!) by making pronunciation gaffs in words like "locomotive" (he always stressed the second syllable, making it sound like a laxative.) 40 years later, however, "charmed" would be the last word you would use to describe my mom's reaction when he mispronounces a word, let me tell you.
***
Doo dee doo, now that I've vented about him, I've got to go and find him so he can help me post the above pictures. I already know what he'll do. He'll read this, say worriedly, "But now everyone will think I'm a big slob," shake his good-natured head sorrowfully, and then post the pictures. 'Cause in his own special, disorganized way, he is a VERY nice guy.
PS: Regarding the graffiti on the boxes: High Intensity's name is NOT really Violet.
6 comments:
there was just so much I dont know where to begin.
I didn't know about the Years not getting along.
I don't kow much about signs
I do know about messes.
So I recognized it. Right away.
HIgh Intensity. (will he say High back?)
Hah... thanks for posting those pictures. Makes me feel a little less bad about my own housekeeping.
So was that woman who wouldn't talk to you because you were a Leo one of the ones who smugly dismissed the Koreans for similar superstitions? The pot calling the oregano green!
Funny thing is, when I visited your house, I thought "oh, she keeps her house much cleaner than I do - I'll have to make sure I clean before she comes over." You even let us look into your BEDROOMS! And they were spotless. Nobody EVER gets to look into our bedrooms. But I guess you kept the office door closed. And maybe you'd spent three days before we came madly cleaning the house. :-)
being an aquarius saved me a few months ago. i was at a bar with friends (and i am SO married and never have been a flirt) and one of those scrawny kind of men was somehow attached to the group (tho no one knew how) and talk turned to the zodiac and he started talking about how all the aquarians he had dated were selfish and horrible and etc. and he warmed up in conversation to me although i was doing my best to be cool and distant and finally i realized "OH MY GOODNESS HE LIKES ME! i MUST get a better wedding ring" he asked my sign.
aquarius.
end of conversation.
sigh of relief.
Those pictures have awakened my inner obsessive/compulsive alter-ego. Must go organize something now....
I too am a Leo and I am SO NOT BOSSY OR HEADSTRONG. WHAT MAKES PEOPLE THINK WE ARE? I GET ALONG WITH EVERYBODY AND IF THEY DON'T LIKE ME, TOUGH!
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