King of Pentacles

It is probably telling that one of my best girlfriends is a tarot card reader named Ruby. Whenever I meet someone new, I am under strict orders to ask for his sign. You see, I have a man in my future, and he is the King of Pentacles. An earth sign. A highly ambitious, successful and steady man who is absolutely positively in my future. Just not the near future. He has been hanging out there in the ether for about a year now.

As I have suffered through the pantheon of fools, Ruby has steadfastly told me that each of them absolutely was not the one. Leo? Tons of energy, but no. Scorpio? Lots of fun, but no way.

"Ok, Ruby, he sounds great, but WHEN." She flips a few more cards. Cards showing beggars. Walking in snow. (This can't be good.) "After the snow flies," she promises. This reading was in June. So in the meantime, I look for a great man in flowing robes and a crown, sitting in a throne holding a shield of Pentacles. Wish me luck.

Back in reality-ville, I had back-to-back calls last night from Spaceman and MGM, the Dumb and Dumber poster-children of my dating life.

MGM asked me to go to a concert for the next night. It became clear he hadn't actually bought the tickets yet. Then he allegedly pulled up a website and said the concert was cancelled. Click.

Then Spaceman calls for what, I don't know. I think he woke up this a.m. hung over and vaguely recalled calling me from a party he didn't invite me to. Maybe that was it.

So tonight I'm home with my two favorite males - Biscuit and Martin. A woman could do worse while waiting for her King to arrive.