I am a sssssssssnake! In the Chinese zodiac, that is. It’s an interesting concept that the Chinese zodiac is based on a yearly cycle (actually 12 years, if I have it right), instead of the regular horoscope monthly cycle (also based on 12, hmmm). Why do I know all this? Because my latest Illustrator assignment involves a design based on my Chinese zodiac aminal. So I’m researching this. I’ve found profiles of myself here and here. (Y’all can get your own profiles at these sites too, not that you are particularly interested in doing that.) Here are a bunch of people — famous people, that is — who are also snakes: Clara Barton, Liz Claiborne, Charles Darwin, Mary Baker Eddy, Elizabeth I, Fannie Farmer, Anne Frank, Mahatma Gandhi, Ellen Goodman, Carole King, Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, Edgar Allen Poe. Honestly, Elizabeth I is the one I think I admire the most. But whatever. According to one of the profiles, I am most suited to be married to a rooster or an ox. But I am married to a horse (same birth year as me but born a few months later). Actually, he does sometimes engage in what I think of as horse-like behavior. Oh well.

Some of the stuff in these profiles just totally NAILS me. Some of it is just a bit off. And some of it, I WISH I could say matched me but, sadly, it doesn’t. But I wistfully aspire to it.

And then. How does this all interact with being a Capricorn (me, The Commander, Richard Nixon, The Grinch, Martin Luther King, and a surprising number of friends of mine here on The Planet)? And what about being an INFJ? Which I apparently am, even though people who haven’t known me very long think I am an INTJ and so did I, until I took a free (and prob’ly quick and dirty) on-line test. But if my profile is accurate, is that why I always feel like I’m so far out from other people even though I feel like I can understand them? Hmm…

At least I am not a Taurus. 😈

What zodiac sign (Chinese or regular) or jung type or whatever are you? Do you fit the profile?

I dunno. It’s all interesting but every morning I still have to just have to get up and do life. Sometimes it’s all good and sometimes it’s just a terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad day. Some days are just like that. Even if you don’t have to wear railroad pajamas. And sometimes on one of those terrible, horrible days, something happens that turns it into a wonderful, fantabulous day. All in a split second. Sigh.

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