I Have a Dirty Little Secret

Well actually, I have several of them.

Let me explain myself. I am the product of the church. My Maternal Grandfather was pastor at a church, a small church, on the westside of Chicago.

My grandmother was the first lady and served on the mother board.

My mother's family, consisting of 9 siblings were all involved in the church somehow.

My mother, whose role I may only be able to accurately recall, was an organist.

She played very methodically and calmly, while wearing a polka dot dress, or a black one.

I believe an uncle of mine, who's life has become a downward spiral of drugs, alcohol and homelessness, I believe played the organ as well.

He however, with dyed black and lye straigthened hair, could play with the same energy and enthusiasm as any entertainer, wearing white regardless of the season, a thin mustache, despite the cliche, but a talent, pure talent on the keyboard.

Now homeless. I havent seen him since he hand washed my car, that is now crashed and on the boot list.

But I haven't shared my dirty little secret yet and after revealing so much of my roots, it is somewhat difficult to share.

But I am here, to say what most others cannot or will not. Simply because I find a bit of peace writing about my stresses and hopefully will find at least 5 kindred spirits who can relate to my thoughts...like yours...that you can not or will not share, but are so glad someone else is going through what you are going through...and is willing to share them.

Welcome all bootlisters with drunken relatives and more debt than income, welcome.

But my secret is, as much as I realize that God is my savior and God is the answer to everything, I have to write it, believe it, speak it, even if I dare question it....God is the answer. But regardless....I read my horoscope.

Not just one or two or three, but maybe five or six or seven daily. And there is one I check like a crack addict checks for 10 cents to buy a rock.

This astrologer.... a little genius.....she predicted my irreconcilable break up with my live in boyfriend (egads) and the subsequent quest for my own self sufficiency.

Lately she has forecasted "good news has finally found you aquarius", and "good news comes to you from a friend maybe a relative"

Um, no. None of this has happened. After about 9 solid months of unbelievable accuracy, her forecast accurateness has flopped like the Dow, the windshield factors, the hope of ever finding a new job.

I feel so alone, so short changed, so wronged. And health care expenses at my job have just increased, a close relative of mine has just lost her job for the second time in 2 months...none of this...none of this is good news.

But I will still read her horoscope, desperately anticipating the next words...hoping somehow "Aquarius you are off the boot list and your new job with a fat salary starts tomorrow" will be there and it will happen.

Please do not think, I do not believe in God, or not worship his blessings. I am aware, that depsite my economic driven depression, I have it way better than some, like my uncle for example. I also am aware, that the simple fact I am alive and can write is a blessing as well.

And the big fat miracle of it all, that I am paying a deductible on my car crash, not the full amount of $3500, that is God. Not astrology. I know.

Astrology just gives you a sneak peek, a glimmer into what you can expect tomorrow.

I have learned it is a toss up. Not a guarantee.

And I discovered astrology through my sister. She drank alcohol throughout high school, shop lifted during college, subsequent jail for decades. But she had a book on astrology that I read from cover to cover, while she was out getting drunk and stealing and getting arrested.

I wonder if her horoscope said "Gemeni, expect great things to happen today"

All I know is, my horoscope says today is a great day...and I am not so sure. But at least I have hope.

So that is my dirty little secret. Horoscopes. They suck but give you hope. God knows I need it.