Today (August 4) is President Obama's birthday. A Leo. My birthday is exactly a week later.
I don't know why I've never fallen in love with Obama. Sometimes, seeing his huge rallies during the campaign, I'd get goosebumps listening to him and seeing the crowds' reactions. Now, watching him as President, I still sometimes get goosebumps of happiness at the sane policies he's enacting, or just at how intelligent and calm and inspiring he sounds when speaking.
But I don't love him.
The last President I loved was Clinton. Also a Leo (August 19). Also brilliant and competent, with sane policies. Also a good speaker, though a little on the cheesy side: He never could quite pull off the gravitas, as Obama can. I think I loved Clinton because he was just a little "weird" and "goofy." A little "out of control" with his personal habits. And his love/hate interactions with Hillary somehow a turn-on.
Obama: Just too darn "cool" for me to "love." Though I admire and like him.
Of all the signs in the Zodiac, and of both sexes: I've always gotten along with Leo men the best.
Poet: Ted Hughes (August 17). The only poet who's ever made me cry. And the only poet to write me a letter saying he liked my poems!
Collaborator: My friend Brian (August 11). He and I had two poetry classes together, lived in the same apartment complex, were co-editors of our own poetry magazine in Austin for 2 years, attended the same writers' group (that he founded) for 2 years before I went off to grad school. A completely pleasant and unassuming person in real life, but on the page: A brilliant, interesting, deep poet. And a very good friend: He'd work to get "dark me" out of the house: Always inviting me to parties and hikes and, the best of all --- during the yearly Austin marathon, the runners ran by his apartment on Enfield. He'd get a group together to drink mimosas in their bathrobes and wave at the struggling athletes! (I once called the local news people, who went out to cover his group!) When I got back from grad school, he threw a party for me. When he got married, he asked me to write a poem for his wedding. He's now living on the East Coast and editing a magazine for a major Ivy League school, publishing articles. A real winner, not just career-wise, but in his talent and intelligence and kindness. And, get this: Despite our working together putting out our magazine and our close contact for years, he and I never argued ONCE. We always "discussed." And sometimes disagreed, but always discussed everything and came to a mutually agreeable, intelligent, satisfying conclusion.
Friend: Leon (August 14). The boyfriend of a close girlfriend of mine whom I'd once been in love with. You'd think there'd be some tension there, me being jealous of him, but there wasn't any at all. The three of us would hang out and watch movies and eat and get drunk together. Sometimes Leon and I would stay up for hours talking after K. had gotten bored with us and gone to bed. Once, we were all so drunk that we ended up sleeping in the same bed --- no sex, 'cause it just wasn't like that, plus we were all so drunk. And Leon, in the middle, ended up throwing up in my hair during the night. THAT is how you know you truly like someone: When they throw up in your hair and you just laugh about it! :) (He and K. are now married and have 2 girls.)
Only male lover: Bill (also August 14). While I've made out with dozens of guys, Bill's the only man I've ever slept with. We "dated" for 8 months before I went off to grad school. He was married, 25 years older than me, my boss. One of my favorite memories is of him having to stay up late doing his taxes on April 15, since he'd waited until the very last minute. That night, his wife was at their other house outside of town. I made him tuna sandwiches and went over to his townhouse and read magazines for hours while looking up every now and then to watch him work. (THAT is how you know you truly like someone: When you want to be around them while they do their taxes!) :) Another memory: Since I worked with him, I knew he was going out of town for the weekend to a West Texas town on company business. At home in Austin, sometime around midnight, I got antsy and just HAD to be with him. I called long-distance around the town until I found out what hotel he was staying in. Then drove more than 3 hours and showed up on his hotel-room doorstep. (I recommend this for great sex.) I spent the whole weekend there. Once, his wife called the room while he was in the shower. (THAT is how you know you truly like someone: When you have the chance to fuck up someone's marriage by answering the phone...but don't.)
I like all of my Leo men a lot. I loved working with Brian on our magazine, and his intellectual and personal understanding of me. I loved staying up late talking to Leon about movies and music and old girlfriends. I loved talking to Bill and having sex with him, loved his sexual understanding of me. I loved Ted Hughes' kind understanding of my poetry.
With women, whom I'm usually much more sexually attracted to, my Zodiac pattern of attraction has almost always turned out to be: Aquarius, Aquarius/Pisces cusp, Scorpio. But, while I've always been much more into these women sexually, none of them has EVER been as giving personally to me of their time and energy and ideas (and selves) as any of those Leo men.
A (Leo) Ted Hughes poem about his (Scorpio) wife Plath, not published in "Birthday Letters"
from "The City"
Your poems are like a dark city centre.
Your novel, your stories, your journals, your letters, are suburbs
Of this big city.
The hotels are lit like office blocks all night
With scholars, priests, pilgrims. It's at night
Sometimes I drive through. I just find
Myself driving through, going slow, simply
Roaming in my own darkness, pondering
What you did. Nearly always
I glimpse you - at some crossing,
Staring upwards, lost, sixty years old.
by Ted Hughes,
printed in The London Sunday Times (international edition), October 26, 1997, Book Section, Page 8-4.
A real Leo. He loved her truly.