Wednesday, February 4, 2009

My Horoscope Made Me Do It


“Um...what’s going on with your blog? Are you practicing restraint on your updates?! :) I miss it!”


That’s an email I received yesterday from one of my devout readers, and a huge fan of my blog, a.k.a. my friend Chantel.


Not that I needed someone to point this out to me. I know I’ve neglected my loyal readers—all five of them. But I’ve got a good excuse. My horoscope made me do it.


Seriously.


Georgia Nicols, www.georgianicols.com, my personal astrologer—seer of things unseen and hearer of silent influences, not to mention one helluva accurate eccentric—has to take some of the blame. She makes eerily good calls, like the time she confirmed that I would be traveling to Scotland, or when she “saw” that I would write my first book.


A couple weeks ago she told me that I would be tired. Damn if she wasn’t bang on.

I started reading Georgia’s horoscopes when I worked at ELLE Canada magazine, where she still pens a monthly column. Before she came into my life I periodically browsed my personal blurb in the newspaper and often sought out Rob Brezsny’s column in Toronto’s alternative weekly, NOW magazine. But to be honest I could never understand what the hell Rob was talking about. His horoscopes sound good in a literary, esoteric kinda way, but I couldn't wrap my brain around his wacked metaphors and downright wacky meanderings.


Georgia on the other hand is straightforward. I know exactly what she’s talking about and she makes me laugh. She’s witty and fun and I follow her weekly. I could follow her daily but seriously that seems a little desperate. I’m quite happy with my Sunday email that lets me know what’s in store for me in the coming week.


While I read my horoscope regularly I’m not a total fanatic. It was a couple weeks ago that Georgia pointed out that the sun, my astrological planet, is furthest away from my sign (Leo) right now, and because of this I need more sleep. The sun is the source of all energy and since its teeny, weenie rays are having a hard time getting through to me it’s meant a reduction in my energy and in turn, my posts. Eerie, right?


No matter this was a couple weeks ago—I’m holding onto this astrological nugget and riding it out as long as possible. I’ve nodded off a couple times just writing this entry. It’s useless to fight the stars.


I’ve also been busy.


Getting ready for my CityLine gig—which airs Monday February 9, 2009—took a couple days out of me. Sourcing gorgeous décor items, sparkling dinnerware and creating simple recipes is exhilarating and exhausting. Shopping is hard work, I don’t care what anyone says. Being fabulous, even harder. But my hard work paid off. The segment, which I taped this past Monday was a huge success and everything from the black and white table setting to the butternut squash bisque with lobster and cognac, looked wonderful.

The only glitch is that my centre piece, a white ceramic vase in the shape of three guns, back-to-back, was considered too edgy and had to be removed. It’s from a company out of Britain called SUCK UK www.suck.uk.com and the design is based on antiwar imagery from the 1960s that shows firearms being used in non-violent ways. Perhaps for a “Singles Only Valentine’s Day” segment, it sends the wrong message.


I’ve also been busy prepping for “He Said, She Said with Ken and Mary Jo”. We start shooting tomorrow and then are back Monday February 9th and continue shooting three episodes per day for the following two weeks. It’s going to be manic AND a helluva good time. My plan is to keep all of you updated with daily posts from the set. The makeup disasters, the wardrobe malfunctions and the food flops (there’ll be some, I’m sure!).


Anyhooters, it’s good to be back. And it feels good to be missed, if only by one person. (There’s a signed “He Said, She Said” apron in it for you Chantel!)


According to my horoscope, Georgia predicted this too.

From today: Something to do with your work is about to change in a dramatic way.


How could she know that I was actually going to do some work today? Creepy.