Tonight, Anne from Ireland read our stars. Porter and I were willing subjects. As much as we talk, there were surprises, spots of light shed on unexamined corners, and lots of future fun made.Anne started mine out by exclaiming, multiple times, "boy are you weird!" Elly was perhaps not surprised, but I kind of was, a bit. I mean, I look fairly normal (lifetime studying how to look normal), I speak, walk, behave pretty much like other people. But Anne kept at it. I've never seen a chart like this, I don't know how to interpret this, I don't know what to make of that. Ultimately, she settled on some educational experience, combined with great shyness, shaped (misshaped?) my brain, and now I have a very unusual way of seeing the world. Well, it is astrology, after all, and we are humans, and we hear what we want to hear, but I confess, I was thrilled! Everyone loves to be told they are different, and here was my confirmation. I'm weird, it's in the stars. As Porter said, tonight was the ultimate narcissist's dream: complete focus on me and what makes me tick.
I may not believe in these things wholeheartedly, but there are so many ways of approaching human understanding, and this one may be just as legitimate as the next. I did learn a few things. I ought to trust my strangeness, my own lens for the world. Who of us knows how our own oddity? How can we? We're all wrapped up in our own thoughts, our own filters and prior beliefs. Who of us has any idea of the other?
In a minor example of this, Porter mentioned that at the U of Mich, referring to someone as an "anthropologist" is practically an insult -- they are completely focused on quantitative methods, and anything that values a different tool is threatening and therefore ridiculed.
Okay, Buckmasters, you can start making fun of me now. I did ask for it, calling to find out what time I was born...but I'll have you know I had your charts read too.
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