And I scream at the top of my lungs what's going on?

Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  Wow, we're here again, Aries.  Another week, and I'm sure you were fascinated by the article in the NYT magazine about the 4-year old conjoined twins, connected at the thalamus, sharing thoughts and sensations, spending their lives at the same odd angle away from each other.  Imagine this:  one likes ketchup, the other doesn't, but each child can taste what the other eats.  This puts a whole new angle on compromise.  What if for you entire life you were forced to either avoid foods you love, or know by eating them, you're inflicting unpleasantness on a loved one.  This week, appreciate that you can eat whatever you like, and you aren't permanently stuck at an odd angle to your closest living person.  If you're metaphorically at any odd angles, straighten that out!

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):   If you happen to be going to Paris anytime soon, like a week from Friday, go underground.  It's more than just bones, there's great art down there too, and it's where the catophiles party, and I'm sure they know how to have fun.  Or at least go to the wine tasting at Spring Restaurant.  If you aren't going to Paris soon, just find a cave, go underground wherever you are.  There's not much going on up here.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  Got the ratrace blues?  I know the feeling.  But at least you've been invited into the game, that's good, right?  Anyway, I hear there are picture frames out there worth more than a house, which I would have marveled at until I saw that a house in my neighborhood just like mine recently sold for $23,000.  So take good care of your picture frames, and don't look on zillow too much.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  Do you love the NYT more than ever after seeing this movie?  Me too.  Those people are smart and quirky and have integrity and don't just follow along.  Just like you and your week. 

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Did you read the article about the young man from Germany who moved to the US, ingratiated himself with the aristocratic community in Connecticut, concocted a few different impressive pedigrees and quirky habits, and ultimately faked being a Rockefeller?  Even his wife of 12 years didn’t catch on that he was a phony.  That's not right, my Leos, and part of what allowed it all to happen is how impressed everyone seemed to be by money, connections, and a love of cucumber and watercress sandwiches.  The other thing that's not right is how that birther book that's now #6 on the NYT bestseller list.  Sheesh.  This week, be especially down to earth and honest, the way you always are.  Stop the madness, Leo.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22)
:  Thanks for all the flowers and trees, you Virgo people.  And speaking of flowers, I made a pretty damn good strawberry rhubarb pie yesterday.  Your week will be like that pie -- sweet, sour, and a bit of crunch (due to the oatmeal in the crust.)  Don't worry about that, just be glad of some texture, and don't forget to floss.  Especially since you've borrowed my teeth! 

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I don't know about you, but I was incredibly relieved that none of the producers of This American Life scored any points on the psychopath test.  If Ira Glass, of all people, were just faking it....

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  So there's this indoor skydiving center opening here in a few months, and they say, "it's not a ride or a simulator, it's actually flying."  That's not true, but still, it seems like a good way for the person who's chicken to step out of an airplane to float around for a bit.  This week, though, stay grounded.  You're gonna need all your wits about you, and bobbing around in a wind tunnel, metaphoric or actual, just isn't going to help.

Saggitarius (11/22 – 12/21): Did you hear about that kindergarten teacher who calmed her students by leading them in a song about chocolates falling from the sky during the middle of a shootout in Monterey, Mexico?  This week, be that person, minus the 5-year-olds and the singing.  The one who's calm, compassionate, and cares.  Just try it!

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Does it make you a little sick that the beautiful and intelligent Maria Shriver was betrayed in such a public way?  Me too! Anyway, she wrote that book with a list of 10 things, the tenth being laughter.  I see lots of #10 in your future.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  What do you think of Japan's idea of turning the moon into a giant disco ball?  I think it's cool, and I think you should turn your week into a giant disco ball.  Shiny and fun, maybe a little unbelievable.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):): Sheesh, Pisces, remember back in the civil war when we were sisters on the prairie?  How I long for those days.  We weren't all high priestesses in past lives; some of us were just working in the garden.  The point is, life is short, the prairie is vast, allocate your time accordingly.

Comments

  1. Wow. Read that story on the conjoined twins. I had read about another set (altho not joined at the head) in eastern USA...they are trying to stay out of the limelight.

    I do remember reading all about the above story in the local papers - they live in the same town as my younger sister... quite the story since day one actually.

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  2. Wow. I love your posts and your horoscopes. I follow young adult author/blogger/vlogger John Green who has the world's largest collection of books on cojoined twins according to him, and he's especially fascinatied with the craniophagus type. I hope he read that article. If it weren't for him I'd have never read The Girls by Lori Lansens. It was in a clearance rack and I read the blurb and knew it was for me. Oh, how I love that book. I also love my horoscope today, just the kick in the rear I need to get moving, make hay or pull thistles while the sunshines. Thanks for being so darn entertaining and practically psychic. Have a great week.

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