ARIES MAR 21-APR 19
I finally threw out my old drum set the other day. Sad. Then the rain started to fall. And it made a pretty little tinkle on the timpani. I thought to myself, “This rain is playing the drums better than I ever could.” I wasn’t particularly bummed at the thought, but my perspective bloomed wide like an African violet: Aries, sometimes you just have to let nature take its course.
TAURUS APR 20- MAY 20
Hiding out is nice. Going on the lam under a fake name is nicer. If we couldn’t reinvent ourselves every now and then, Taurus, we’d go absolutely mad. You, for example, who were once so prudent, have really grown into a superfun, extroverted partystar. But what’s next on the list? Where do you go from here? This next step could be a long one, so make sure you’re comfortable about it.
GEMINI MAY 21- JUN 20
Everything I know about reading the stars, I learned from the lovely Gunnhild, my father’s wet nurse. To fully engage with the firmament, old Gunnhild would transport her bulky frame out to the middle of the snowy hemp field, lie down, make a snow angel, and connect. That’s what you need, Gemini, some time apart, to connect. Try a parking lot. And some kind of burlap suit.
CANCER JUN 21- JUL 22
The sound of a piano playing in a distant room can be melancholy or terrifying, depending on the tune. It also depends on whether or not the floor is carpeted. And the time of day. You know, Cancer, everything depends on random circumstances, unseen factors (the bus driver’s neurochemistry, the wind) that can change our lives forever. So maybe wear the yellow sweater today.
LEO JUL 23- AUG 22
A one-of-a-kind Bonobo monkey suit of armor? $80,000. The very first antique, cedar-powered word processor known as the “Word Chipper”? $8,500. The key to your beloved’s innermost heart? Around $2,000. Yes, love is simple, Leo, you just need a little financial stability before you can relax and enjoy the finer points of your paramour’s personality. No cash, no happy. Sorry.
VIRGO AUG 23- SEP 22
It’s kind of impossible to believe, but spring is right around the corner. I know, it’s muddy and grey, and winter lies like a deep fog on the valley of your soul, but there always comes a moment, if you have a little faith, when the sun hits your back at the right angle, and all the stress and upset of the dark months melts away. But Virgo, you gotta get outside first, before the sun can do its work.
LIBRA SEP 23- OCT 22
A good manservant is hard to find: someone who’ll press your slacks, make your tea, remove your crusts, and help you get out of those unfortunate romantic entanglements that are a byproduct of scandalously aristocratic English living. Yes, Libra, I know that you’ve been scaling the latticework, nipping into Lavinia’s boudoir… take care old chap! This time you’re on your own.
SCORPIO OCT 23- NOV 21
You’ve been trying some really odd diets of late, Scorpio. Chewing on rawhide soaked in lemon juice to fend off hunger pangs? Deep-fried eggshells? Foodstuffs beginning with the letter B? C’mon you eedjit! You’re gonna die before you finish all of your earthly designs, and none of us wants that. Here’s some advice: a nice cheese sandwich on rye bread, with a schmeer of mustard. Ok?
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22- DEC 21
Sitting underground can be good for the soul. It’s cool (but not too), quiet, and you needn’t fear wild marauders. The “fear of wild marauders,” Sagittarius, is one that you’ve been keeping secret for too long. I understand that you firmly believe you’re the reincarnation of a 9th-century Irish monk, but I really don’t think the Vikings are coming. But sure, sit underground all you want. Fine.
CAPIRCORN DEC 22- JAN 19
You know when you’re waiting for the bus, and it’s taking a long time, and you think to yourself, “Maybe I should just call a cab…” but you’ve already invested a significant portion of your life on that sad little stretch of sidewalk so you might as well stick around to see the thing through? There’s a word for that, Capricorn: stubborn. He/she just isn’t gonna call. Time to move on.
AQUARIUS JAN 20- FEB 18
I was out walking one night in El Jardin Real in Madrid, taking my leisure before an evening at the opera. I came upon a young child sitting quietly reading from a notebook. The child’s lips were moving and there was the faintest sound coming forth, of which I was able to make out the following: “Aquarius, you worry too much about what other people think. Be yourself…” Freaky right?
PISCES FEB 19- MAR 20
You think you’re hungry? I haven’t eaten in at least 13 years! Yours truly has been on a special diet of polka dots and moonbeams for over a decade… and I think I’m ready to dig in and chow down. But I’m not sure what my first meal should be. Clams? Yams? Quince paste over phyllo with a bed of frisee? Sometimes, Pisces, it’s all about me, not you. You’ll just have to deal.