StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Café 43:
Venus in Aquarius and a Discussion of the Election

Needless to say, I'd had a wonderful birthday. The nice-looking officer Venus had sent along to take me out that evening had been a perfect match. In fact, he'd asked for my number, and used it several times since then. At any rate, I thought I should probably head down to the Café and thank her—and besides, I was dying to hear what the planets had to say about the craziness we were still calling Election 2000 down here on Planet Number Three.

I flipped open the cell phone the planets had given me and poked the number one. It never even had a chance to ring. Mercury answered before I even had the receiver to my ear. "Girlfriend! Whassup? Are you coming to visit?"

I told him I was, asked if Venus was there and if he'd be around to chat.

Mercury laughed. "Well, I'll be here, and Venus is here, too—but she's kind of busy. Then again, her kind of busy might be fun for you. She changed into Aquarius a couple days ago, and you know how much she loves Bill Clinton, right? Well, she likes Gore, too—ever since he gave Tipper that kiss, I think."

I laughed. Any planet in Aquarius just adores making a scene. Especially in public, and especially if it's a very, very bold thing to do—according to Saturn's policy on public behavior, that is. So it made sense that Venus in Aquarius would just love seeing a politician forget all about discretion to kiss his wife passionately in public. But what was she doing? This I had to see.

"I'll be right there," I said. "See ya in a bit."

"Ciao, bella," Mercury answered, with a perfect Italian accent. He was now in Sagittarius, obviously having a ball with words—and with this whole legal/political extravaganza, too. I just knew he'd been watching CNN as much as I was—especially since it had boiled down to a legal case, a department headed by Sag. I can still remember the moment last week when I'd felt him switch gears, too.

It was about 3:30 pm on December 3, and the Leon County Circuit Court was hearing arguments from both sides as to whether or not the ballots in several counties should be counted. After days of serious talk, legalese and emphatic objections, Judge Sauls (who I suspect may be a Sag himself) began tossing humorous quips around the courtroom. In a matter of minutes, the entire atmosphere inside the courtroom changed. Sure, they were still arguing their causes with political fervor—but the tone of the banter had changed. Suddenly, both sides began making self-deprecating jokes, as well as side comments about the situation itself. In just a few moments, in fact, everyone was laughing—a breath of fresh air in an election season that had become amazingly convoluted.

Of course, when all was said and done, Mercury was at the heart of the matter. Funny, since he's always been the most underrated planet, in my humble opinion. He'd stopped to turn direct at 9:26 pm EST on the evening of November 7—and I just knew that meant trouble. Since he's our own traveling microphone, it made sense that all kinds of "results" were being announced by the media—quite the mercurial group themselves—and that virtually all of the results they'd announced were wrong. Now, however, he was moving along at his usual quick pace, and in politically-minded Sag, at that. I wondered what he'd have to say about all this.

My thoughts were cut short as I turned the corner. There was a crowd outside the Café—a crowd of people, not planets. On a stage at the center of the crowd, however, one planet was definitely holding court. Venus. In Aquarius. I got out of the car and crossed the street in time to hear her leading a chant. "Gore got more. Gore got more." Oh, boy. She certainly was feeling her sign—wearing cause-oriented Aquarius, and holding up a "Gore-Lieberman" placard.

Mercury appeared at the door of the Café and motioned for me to come in. As I circled the crowd, Venus saw me and winked. She was loving every minute of this. And there was my favorite uncle, Jupiter. He was in an easy trine to Venus that day, backing up his favorite date by handing out brochures and urging the protesters on—which also wasn't much of a surprise. He waved and went back to business.

I ducked into the Café, and Mercury closed the door. "Gee whiz, girlfriend," he said. "Can you believe this?"

I thought I detected a tone of pride—and mischief—in his voice. Yep. Definitely Sag.

I looked him right in the eyes and shook my finger at him. "Oh, you've been bad, haven't you?"

His eyes widened in mock surprise—but he was grinning. "Me? Whaddaya mean? I didn't do anything…"

I crossed my arms. "Yeah, right. That wasn't you that stopped still on election night, then? That wasn't you who fed all the wrong results to the media? Come on, boyfriend, you know who you're talking to—I own you. I know all about Mercury in Sag. Gimme a break, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you caught me. I really did it this time, didn't I?"

"Yes, you certainly did. Any unofficial comments on the outcome?"

His facial expression changed. He was serious. "Let's sit down and have a cocktail, okay?"

"Sure." I slid into a booth and smiled as Neptune magically appeared.

 

Next Week:Mercury discusses the election and the Café is decorated for the holidays.