Horoscopes: The Broken Apparatus Edition
Aries (3/21 – 4/19): I'm having that kind of week that starts out full of promise, and then each step I take sets me farther backward. Like what starts with a drippy kitchen faucet becomes a morning spent watching Youtube videos on how do do stuff, and what shows up as an easy step is actually impossible, and the whole thing puts me in an irritable mood. The videos are like, "Put socks on by first unrolling the pair, and slipping them over the feet, toe first, one at a time. Pull sock around the heel, and slide up ankle, adjust for comfort. Put shoes on. For specific instructions for your shoe type, click here..." I watch this, and I'm full of confidence. And then it moves to, "... walk outside, spread your arms wide, and fly to the nearest tree, and build your nest. The end." Is it just me, Aries? Anyway, this week, just call someone. Hire people, all the people you need. Don't watch those videos.
Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): The problem is, Taurus, that two percent of people think that Mitt's real name is "Mittens," which seems like it could work in his favor. Who doesn't like mittens? Why, I have a book of mitten knitting patterns that, and I'm not making this up, I used to read the introduction to and get sort of weepy. Years later, I read it again and thought, huh? What was that all about? It was sweet, but not that sweet. Maybe I just had something in my eye. It was just about how you should make mittens for everyone you love, and memorize a pattern, make it your own, blah blah blah. Taurus, I think if you're going to make stuff, let it be hats. Not so many opposable digits to fuss with.
Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): Okay, long story but I search the internet for plumbers, and there's a form to complete in order to get a free cost estimate. Merely seconds after I submit the form, the phone starts ringing. At first, I'm like, wow, how cool is this? I don't have to call anyone, they'll call me. But then they kept calling. And calling. All different plumbers, from all over the state. One of the lesser annoying parts of the whole thing is that when I asked one company to stop calling me (they were calling every hour to see how my plumbing is), they said they'd need a manager's approval. Wait, right? They can't stop calling me? Suddenly, I've become their job description? Gemini, don't be anyone's job description this week. Just be your lovely self.
Cancer 6/22 – 7/21: You know how the hip people are all, "hash tag, yolo" and so on? And you can't decide for sure if you're irritated because it makes you feel just the tiniest bit inferior or if you're just plain irritated? Yeah, I hate that. This week, exhale, breathe into your heart center, and remember, yolo. Don't waste it.
Leo (7/23 – 8/22): Did you ever have that thing where you wait around all day for the dishwasher repairman, and he calls first thing in the morning and says he'll be there in 20 minutes, and you offer directions and he scoffs, as in, "I don't need no stinkin' directions," and then two hours later he calls and says he's been driving around your neighborhood but can't find your house, and you're pretty sure that's not true because there's only one street in your neighborhood, so what would be involved in all the driving around? And then when he finally arrives, he just has a regular pickup truck, not an appliance repair van, and he has no idea how to fix the dishwasher, and then he dodges your calls all week? Yeah, I know. Leo, I've got no horoscope for you. None whatsoever.
Libra (9/23 – 10/22): You know those ads next to the feed on Facebook that are supposedly tailored to you? Yeah, so mine seem to be mostly about belly fat and get-rich-quick scams, but recently, there's been a spate of diagnoses. A few days ago, it was gout. "Have gout? We can help." I was ranting about that, like, "really, Facebook? On top over everything else, you think I have gout?" and someone asked what gout was, so I looked it up and it's painful swelling of the joints, and right about then I was noticing that my finger is really sore and swollen, which, by the way, how would FB know about that? Did that picture make my finger look big? So I guess twe should start posting our symptoms and see what happens. We'll call this Zuckercare, Libra, and it's free so long as you have a computer and a connection.
Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21): For years, R. and I have been reading the advice column from the NYT, Social Q's, aloud, and discussing the answer. We've added a new element to the game, which is to predict, prior to reading the letter, whether we'll think we're better than, equal to, or worse than the writer. I'm not proud of it, Scorpio, but we usually think we're better than the letter-writer. People who write to advice columnists have first world problems, like, "should I hang the flag out in front of my house that means people can come swim in my pool? I would, but no one has given me a gift lately, so I'm thinking I won't," and it's hard not to feel a little like you're better than that. Scorpio, this week, hang your flag out. Let the people come.
Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): Do you ever have that thing where you wait around all day on a different day for the faucet repairman (this is a completely different horoscope than Leo, btw), and the person never shows, and you were sort of afraid of that because when they called you (see Gemini), they were pretty insistent on getting a cross street.
"So, this isn't really a cross street sort of neighborhood. There's only one road."
"I'm really going to need a cross street."
"Yeah, I heard you. But there is no cross street."
"Well, I really need a cross street to get this started."
We went around for a while, eventually getting to, "If there were a cross street, what would it be?" And me naming a street, and waiting and waiting, and eventually calling back to learn that the plumber has actually never heard of me, and so on.
Saggitarius, I don't know what to tell you. I'm tempted to suggest that you stay away from the cross streets, far, far away, but look where it got me? Maybe you should stand near a corner and see how that works out.
buying an election! Capricorn, do like Sheldon, and aim a little higher than having a sink that doesn't leak. See if you can get a government that's all about you. If it works out, though, remember me and my dishwasher down here with the common people, and send someone out, wouldja?.
Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18): This (Fun Home, by Allison Bechdel) is the darkest, funniest comic-book memoir you'll read this summer. Enjoy it. It will only take a few hours.
Pisces (2/19 – 3/20): Wow, thanks for sticking with this sorry little horoscope all the way to the end. Last night, I chronicled the details of all the chores and my efforts to solve them to a little boy as a bedtime story, and we hadn't even gotten to the dishwasher when he was sound asleep. I feel a little bad about it, but in my defense, he begged me to tell him more chore stories this morning. I was afraid he'd fall asleep again, so I didn't, but I could. Any time, Pisces.