I have many Capricorn friends and colleagues, but we mostly communicate from a distance.
Until recently Erin Scarum was the only birthday twin I’ve spent a substantial amount of direct social time with, and she always startles me by understanding every subtle subtext of whatever anecdote I tell. This was particularly eerie in the days when I didn’t want anyone to see the back story.
This winter I’ve hung out with other Capricorns and the experience has been illuminating, in part because we have a tendency to critique each other – and most people wouldn’t dare.
One afternoon in Seattle Greg appeared to be digging for the truth about my name (short answer: it isn’t my fault I was born a Lavender) and in the middle of his speech informed me that I look like I know that I’m smarter than the common people (his actual words).
My mouth dropped open in shock. His eyes widened and he followed up with Did I just say that?
The waitress had turned up to take our order and she replied Yes, you did before offering her pen so I could take notes.
After quickly scribbling down the quote I replied If that is true of me, then it must be of you too!
He said Absolutely – I’m not separating you from me before getting distracted by flirting with the cute waitress.
The statement is not entirely true. Greg only knows me in the context of the Bus Stop and he was accurately describing the mighty force field that has historically protected me from straight boys in bars. Not that it fazed him.
Similarly, Sarah wonders out loud why Rachel gets away with so much in my company. For instance, I can’t think of anyone else who would dare grab my phone let alone send racy text messages around the world.
Hanging out with Rachel is hilarious because she tells me scandalous stories and says things like I guess you get what you deserve.
I throw up my hands and shout No, you get what you choose!
Then we both fall about laughing, to the bemusement of the British people watching our antics.
I’ve always been under the impression that I make perfect sense at all times, even when informed by credible witnesses that I am mysterious. I only just noticed that I might be sort of confusing.
This is what I have observed about children of the winter: we are, apparently, both capricious and constant. We move abruptly when we see a solution to a problem. We feel a conflict between decadence and thrift but keep business sorted even in dire circumstances. We do what we like even when we know better. We love secrets. We are excessively stubborn.
How strange.
Happy birthday to all the other winter babies!