(no subject)
Not sure exactly what to make of this but...
I went through one of the ungodly huge piles of audiotapes my grandmother accumulated over the years. Unbelievable piles, phone conversations with relatives, Christmas mornings, birthday dinners, even one box that includes audio recordings of various episodes of MacGuiver and M*A*S*H before she got a VCR.
A bit was pretty interesting, though. Apparently, when I was a year old, my mother had an astrological reading done for me, and recorded the whole thing - three tapes, front and back. This is the first I've known of it. Pretty amusing stuff. Almost solid hilarity.
The first ten minutes is almost solidly talking about how I was going to grow to be a very religious and meditative person, deeply spiritual, shunning of creature comforts, never taking poisons into my body. In the lot, she was right in saying I would likely leave the Catholic faith, but she was very wrong in saying I would most likely become Buddhist or Hindu. Other than one half-hit, the rest of it was a lark. "Meditative" maybe - I'm pretty good at meditation, but it's mostly an exercise in ignoring people, and has involved little soul searching. Definitely not shunning of creature comfort, as I type this on a creature comfort connected to a global creature comfort, sitting on a nice leather creature comfort and watching reruns on another creature comfort. Oh, and that whole thing about poisons? I was taking poisons into my body while listening to the tape. Just about choked on my rum when that part came up.
It goes on and on, always very amusing. It gets into the woman troubles I'd have in my life. While I have woman troubles, they sure as hell aren't the ones in the tape. Purity of body came up again. Yeah, right. That only lasted as long as I was unable to get a date. I'd marry at a very young age, and my mother would hate her. I'm 24 now, which I don't think is "very young" anymore, and I'm certainly not getting married any time soon. The reader suggests that she not interfere. This is the exact OPPOSITE problem I've had - when my mother isn't asking me if I'm gay and assuring me she'd "take me to that school to get fixed" if I was, she's trying to hook me up with random women she meets in public whose names she doesn't know.
Further discussion of the mystery woman who never materialized gets into some weird shit about tribes that I barely understand, but she sums it up that I'd probably marry a black girl. While certainly not an impossibility, her reasoning doesn't jive, as she describes some sort of bizarre New Ageish stuff, and describes this girl as the sort of loony I lose patience for very quickly.
Getting into my talents, it talks about my artistic and athletic prowess. lol. With a capitol LOL. I'd never have a grasp for words or speaking, but I'd be fit and strong, and would have a powerful talent for art, sculpture, and possibly gardening. I've been called a lot of things, but I've never been accused of being fit nor strong.
Reality check: I'm virtually colorblind - the most interesting thing I ever said at an art gallery was, "Is that French?" The cactus I used to have on my desk dried out and died. I've successfully neglected the most hardy and unkillable plants into derelict soil and if my lawn weren't overrun with some freak strain of grass that can't be killed and never grows more than two inches long, I'd've killed the lawn long ago. The only thing that grows in my yard is Rose of Sharon. And if you've ever grown Rose of Sharon, you CAN'T KILL IT. EVER. If you can kill it, please come and kill mine. I planted one that I got from a cutting, and it's spread through the entire lawn, growing up through cracks in the pavement, in the middle of the lawn. There's even one sprouting in the muck in the gutters. Occasionally neighbors or family have said, "Oh, those are beautiful plants, do you think I could have one?" and I dig up forty or fifty saplings for them - in some parts of the yard, I can dig up five of them in one shovelful large enough to produce flowers within a year of transplanting. Lastly, and now this might sound slightly conceited - because it is just a bit - but I like to think my grasp of words is self evident.
The same part gets into my play activities as a (then future) child. Encouraged my mom not to buy "specific" toys like soldiers or cars. Instead she should give me blocks and other "imaginative" toys. Now, as evidenced by the fact that most of them are still in boxes in the basement or attic, my favorite toys generally involved cars, robots, robots that turned into cars, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Not blocks. Even now, overly abstracted video games fail to hold my attention (For example, try as I might, I can rarely keep attention focused on any card-based video game).
I also would never have an analytical or problem solving brain. I'd struggle at math (which after the hard sciences was always my best subject), have difficulty with even simple mechanical tasks (considering that this was made 23 years ago, I think my computer experience can be considered this), and when confronted with puzzles or questions would withdraw and wait for somebody else to figure it out. This last bit is one of my favorites, since while I get annoyed with puzzles, I'll usually break them before running away, and I never leave a question unanswered, even if I have to slap some Grade A Home Made Michigan Bullshit on it.
And this is only tape one.
Edit: Listened to about five minutes of tape 2, which was made three years later according to the date on it. Gets into past life stuff. Pretty crazy stuff here. The life described sounds the first chapter of Dune. I guess in a past life, I was Paul Atreides, and this guy named Scott from my day care that's mentioned several times I guess would have been Feyd-Rautha Rabban. I'd much rather be Duncan Idaho.
Edit^2: Yes, the bricks are still in my driveway.
I went through one of the ungodly huge piles of audiotapes my grandmother accumulated over the years. Unbelievable piles, phone conversations with relatives, Christmas mornings, birthday dinners, even one box that includes audio recordings of various episodes of MacGuiver and M*A*S*H before she got a VCR.
A bit was pretty interesting, though. Apparently, when I was a year old, my mother had an astrological reading done for me, and recorded the whole thing - three tapes, front and back. This is the first I've known of it. Pretty amusing stuff. Almost solid hilarity.
The first ten minutes is almost solidly talking about how I was going to grow to be a very religious and meditative person, deeply spiritual, shunning of creature comforts, never taking poisons into my body. In the lot, she was right in saying I would likely leave the Catholic faith, but she was very wrong in saying I would most likely become Buddhist or Hindu. Other than one half-hit, the rest of it was a lark. "Meditative" maybe - I'm pretty good at meditation, but it's mostly an exercise in ignoring people, and has involved little soul searching. Definitely not shunning of creature comfort, as I type this on a creature comfort connected to a global creature comfort, sitting on a nice leather creature comfort and watching reruns on another creature comfort. Oh, and that whole thing about poisons? I was taking poisons into my body while listening to the tape. Just about choked on my rum when that part came up.
It goes on and on, always very amusing. It gets into the woman troubles I'd have in my life. While I have woman troubles, they sure as hell aren't the ones in the tape. Purity of body came up again. Yeah, right. That only lasted as long as I was unable to get a date. I'd marry at a very young age, and my mother would hate her. I'm 24 now, which I don't think is "very young" anymore, and I'm certainly not getting married any time soon. The reader suggests that she not interfere. This is the exact OPPOSITE problem I've had - when my mother isn't asking me if I'm gay and assuring me she'd "take me to that school to get fixed" if I was, she's trying to hook me up with random women she meets in public whose names she doesn't know.
Further discussion of the mystery woman who never materialized gets into some weird shit about tribes that I barely understand, but she sums it up that I'd probably marry a black girl. While certainly not an impossibility, her reasoning doesn't jive, as she describes some sort of bizarre New Ageish stuff, and describes this girl as the sort of loony I lose patience for very quickly.
Getting into my talents, it talks about my artistic and athletic prowess. lol. With a capitol LOL. I'd never have a grasp for words or speaking, but I'd be fit and strong, and would have a powerful talent for art, sculpture, and possibly gardening. I've been called a lot of things, but I've never been accused of being fit nor strong.
Reality check: I'm virtually colorblind - the most interesting thing I ever said at an art gallery was, "Is that French?" The cactus I used to have on my desk dried out and died. I've successfully neglected the most hardy and unkillable plants into derelict soil and if my lawn weren't overrun with some freak strain of grass that can't be killed and never grows more than two inches long, I'd've killed the lawn long ago. The only thing that grows in my yard is Rose of Sharon. And if you've ever grown Rose of Sharon, you CAN'T KILL IT. EVER. If you can kill it, please come and kill mine. I planted one that I got from a cutting, and it's spread through the entire lawn, growing up through cracks in the pavement, in the middle of the lawn. There's even one sprouting in the muck in the gutters. Occasionally neighbors or family have said, "Oh, those are beautiful plants, do you think I could have one?" and I dig up forty or fifty saplings for them - in some parts of the yard, I can dig up five of them in one shovelful large enough to produce flowers within a year of transplanting. Lastly, and now this might sound slightly conceited - because it is just a bit - but I like to think my grasp of words is self evident.
The same part gets into my play activities as a (then future) child. Encouraged my mom not to buy "specific" toys like soldiers or cars. Instead she should give me blocks and other "imaginative" toys. Now, as evidenced by the fact that most of them are still in boxes in the basement or attic, my favorite toys generally involved cars, robots, robots that turned into cars, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Not blocks. Even now, overly abstracted video games fail to hold my attention (For example, try as I might, I can rarely keep attention focused on any card-based video game).
I also would never have an analytical or problem solving brain. I'd struggle at math (which after the hard sciences was always my best subject), have difficulty with even simple mechanical tasks (considering that this was made 23 years ago, I think my computer experience can be considered this), and when confronted with puzzles or questions would withdraw and wait for somebody else to figure it out. This last bit is one of my favorites, since while I get annoyed with puzzles, I'll usually break them before running away, and I never leave a question unanswered, even if I have to slap some Grade A Home Made Michigan Bullshit on it.
And this is only tape one.
Edit: Listened to about five minutes of tape 2, which was made three years later according to the date on it. Gets into past life stuff. Pretty crazy stuff here. The life described sounds the first chapter of Dune. I guess in a past life, I was Paul Atreides, and this guy named Scott from my day care that's mentioned several times I guess would have been Feyd-Rautha Rabban. I'd much rather be Duncan Idaho.
Edit^2: Yes, the bricks are still in my driveway.