Aries (3/21 – 4/19): I have a pet rabbit that lives in the driveway named Jeffrey. (The rabbit is named Jeffrey, not the driveway.) Jeffrey's a good pet because he's completely self sufficient, lives outside, no cages or pet food are involved, but we keep tabs on each other. When I leave the house, I always tell Jeffrey where I'm going. "Don't worry, Jeffrey, I'll be back in a bit. I'm just going to town to sit in that orange chair for a while." Once in a while, Jeffrey sits in the middle of the driveway, obviously a plea to get me not to leave, but I love us both more than that. We aren't going to have a clingy, dependent relationship, so I gently encourage him to move out of the way, and he hops into the bushes as if he's scared of me. By the time I get home, he's sitting right where I park my car again, and we both pretend nothing ever happened. I never left, he never pouted, and so on. Aries, your horoscope is about all of that.
Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): My sister interprets dreams , which is a good thing, because I've been having lots of them. And, as she says, it's not spooky. The other night, I dreamt I had Mesothelioma, and the doctor told me that the only cure is to trudge through chest high snow. "But there is no chest high snow around here," I commented. The doctor looked at me, like "yeah, I know. Do the math." My sister tells me this is a good dream about growth. I'll take her word for it, because that's better than lung disease. Your week will be all about growth too, with less pulminary disorder and more foliage.
Gemini (5/21 – 6/21): Sometimes, life feels really hard, and the best we can do is just keep trudging along, wondering if its worth it, if anything we do matters. But really, that's not the best we can do. The best we can do is to tell other people, "sheesh, life is really freakin' hard right now, will you stand on the sidelines while I swim through the big waves and cheer me on? I might not be able to look up because the waves are huge and I'm trying not to get swept under and I'm tired. Really tired." And people will show up and root for you, and pass you warm soup when you're ready, and wrap you in a cozy towel when you need that. They will. And ever so slowly, and with great effort, you'll swim past the big waves, out into the calm vast ocean full of promise and curious sea life and peace. Keep swimming, Gemini, because it will be worth it. We'll fend off the sharks.
Cancer 6/22 – 7/21: I thought if I started writing down dreams, maybe I could mine that for blog posts, but it's not working out so well. I wake in the middle of the night and jot stuff down. Here, direct from the journal: "B. had funny name for J-o. Didn't know menu though I'd been there a million times. Brown rice." Sorry, Gemini. I'd like to turn your attention away from the dream journal, and toward shoe-making as a good way to encourage healthy subterranian activity. Making shoes is a little way of saying to the earth, "we know you're down there and a lot's going on. Thank you."
Leo (7/23 – 8/22): I went to this movie last week. If you're in the mood for thinking about time travel (and let's be honest -- when are we not in the mood for that?), I'd recommend it. I sat in the very front row by myself with my large popcorn, and even though it was pretty neck-craning, a good time was had by me. That reminds me of your horoscope, Leo. A good time will be had by you all week. If it doesn't seem to be the case, look up, look down, look all around!
Virgo (8/23 – 9/22): One of the most hilarious bits of that movie was this: the guy planning to time travel had a small metal box in a rusted out old truck. He made a plan that if he's ever in trouble during a time travel trip, he'll put a note in the box. Every so often, he looks in the box, and is visibly relieved when there's no note. Virgo, set up your own box. Look inside it if you're worried. If it's still empty, all is well.
Libra (9/23 – 10/22): A moment of silence for Arthur Ochs "Punch" Sulzberger, Sr., (February 5, 1926 - September 29, 2012). Mr. Sulzberger made the gutsy decision to print the Pentagon Papers, which started a whole chain of events that end with Nixon resigning. R.I.P., Arthur. This week, Libra, each of your actions will start a chain of events too! Be careful what you set in motion.
Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21): For several weeks, I've been remarking that I'm free until October 4, when I have one thing to do. October 4 is almost here, and we'll do that one thing, and my grueling schedule will open up again. I can't wait to see my hero Emily Bazelon in person, especially since a secret guest has been confirmed. I don't know if I dreamt this, heard it somewhere, or made it up, but I think it's going to be Dan Savage. Scorpio, your week will be full of secret guests, and not just on October 4. Lucky you!
Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): Speaking of math, I checked this book out from the library and it's bringing me great joy, just to struggle a bit and try to remember stuff I wish I used to know but probably never did. Each day ends with a glass of port and a calculus problem and I'll say right here that this book and I are having a very positive, non-judgmental relationship. Who even needs cats when you have all this going on? Sag, struggle just the right amount this week.
Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19): If anyone needs trees, we can set you up. But that's a shameless bit of advertising right in the middle of your horoscope. The thing is, Capricorn, that you're in such a great, grounded, thoughtful place that I don't think you even need a horoscope. All you need is a tree.
Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18): Okay, stuck again, so I'll look back at my dream notebook. I know. I'm sorry, Aquarius. But here you go, right from the notebook:
I was helping M. move, and had to pack up a horse and ride it to her new location. But, when last seen, the horse was loose in a circular driveway of a nursing home; the nursing home residents were inside eating a nice meal on a table set with linen. One elderly man thought the horse had gone to the racetrack because it loved to run. No one was particularly worried.Aquarius, you'd have to ask my sister for sure, but I think your week will be full of feasting and running and not worrying too much about the loose horse.
|This may be where Jimmy's buried.|
Pisces (2/19 – 3/20): Okay, Pisces, when I'm really out of horoscope stuff, I turn to Jimmy Hoffa. Just like DB Cooper and time travel, couldn't we read about that forever? It looks like we will. They dug up one more yard in the Detroit area this week, and gasp, didn't find Jimmy. My favorite part of this particular one is the homeowner, who said, " "This has turned my life upside down. My son can't even come out and cut the grass." Seriously? The police come digging around in your yard looking for a legendary labor union boss with mob ties who may have been interred in your yard 37 years ago, and you're worried about lawn cutting? Some people miss all the joy in life. Thank goodness you're not like that, Pisces! Rejoice.