Horoscopes for the Dark Times

Aries (3/21 – 4/19) I was on an airplane last week and every single person on the plane was very attractive.  I don't need to tell you how rare that is.  I felt like either my vision was poor (which it is, but I don’t think that was it) or I was on an episode of Lost.   Luckily, the plane arrived safely in Chicago instead of crashing on a tropical island.  Or maybe it wasn't so lucky -- I wouldn’t have had any problem getting stuck in a nice climate with those beautiful people.  Not only that, but everyone was really well-behaved.  I was seated between two mothers with infants on their laps.  Right?  That can't turn out good.  But the babies were adorable and they just cooed for a minute and then dozed for the rest of the flight, snuggled into their mothers chests.  That's pretty much how your week will go, Aries.  Lots of beautiful people, a bit of cooing, and a long winter's nap.  Enjoy.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  The other night I stopped on my way home from the airport at a wedding, which is a good way to re-enter life.  Hanging out with good friends, eating food, and celebrating.  Even though I was under-dressed and covered with that oily layer of airport grime and the smell of anxious humans confined to a small terrifying metal box, everyone was welcoming and made it okay that I showed up empty-handed smelling like the airport.  Oh, and there was a beautiful handmade cake.  Let that be your week, Taurus.  Friends and cake and celebrating.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  Every so often, you get to the part in your life when a big outing is taking a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a small bag of pretzels to a big ugly mall for a picnic.  See if you can make that good.  Celebrate anyway, appreciate the sticky tabletop and the weird christmas music.  If tears come?  Call it weeping.  It sounds better, stronger, more purposeful than crying.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  I was having a beer the other day with a few friends, and one of them said, "Hey, let's go play blackjack in this card room I know about."  How often does that happen?  You don't have to answer that.  So I said yes, and we went to a pretty strange concrete windowless world where the people were glassy-eyed and desperate.  For some reason, I was tasked with cutting the cards all evening because one drunk guy thought I was good luck.  Maybe I was, because I went in with $20 and left with $50.  Anyway, it's the dark times.  Do stuff to shake it up.  Take a card on a 16 once in a while.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Speaking of the dark times, my iPod, which has an inappropriate amount of importance in my life, died the other day, and I can't even describe how quiet and wrong it is to have no music in the darkest time of the year, but sometimes life is quiet like that, and we have to get used to it.  But the music I'd like to recommend to you, Leo, is Western States Motel.  Toss in a little Fleet Foxes and you're good for the week.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  So, I was at this wedding, and someone passed me in a narrow corridor, saying, "Excuse me.  I just don't want to trip over the cord and cause the lights or the sound to go off."

It's good to have goals, Virgo.  And that's a fine one, not tripping over the cord.  It's within reach, it makes the world a little bit better, and requires some striving.  One of my goals is to not date anyone who needs to be signed out -- from an asylum, work release, whatever.  I'm not saying it's been easy, Virgo, but that's why they call it a goal.  Set some of your own week.  And no, you can't steal mine.  Taken.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I got in an elevator by myself the other day, and just as the door was closing, a voice called out, "Hold the door!"  So I did, and these two large-ish men walked in, and as the door closed, one of them turned to me and said "What's your name?"  in a demanding tone.  That's not proper elevator behavior, Libra.  But I answered.  (I know.  I disappoint myself with my obedience at times, but that's not your horoscope.)  They asked if I was a medic.  Right?  I'm schlepping around with pants that are sort of falling down, a ratty backpack, a laptop in a canvas grocery bag, wearing a coat from a dumpster.  "No.  Although I may look like it, I'm not a real doctor.  Are you having an emergency?"  They both started laughing really hard, and said Seattle is a great town.  The doors opened then, and I got off, but Libra, this week, be your own medic.  Bring gloves.  And possibly whiskey.  Seattle is a great town.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  There are two kinds of people, Scorpio.  The ones who bring joy, and the ones who suck it.  Thank goodness you're here.  We need more of your kind in this dark dark time. Anyway, your horoscope?  Sometimes, my friends, you have two shitty choices, and you have to pick one or it picks you.  If you can't figure out what to do, imagine what a really cool, functional ethical person would do, and just copy.  The way isn't always easy, blah blah blah.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  Voyager 1 reached the magnetic highway this week, as you surely know.  I don't quite understand what the magnetic highway is, but I think it's like the turnstile at the edge of the solar system, letting things in and out.  Stay back from the magnetic highway, but if you do get sucked up, get your hand stamped so you can return.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Speaking of goals, my daughter set a goal of living where she doesn't ever need to wear shoes, which makes me indescribably proud and concerned.  In a weird bit of, "art imitates life" irony, a beautiful portrait of her bare feet is displayed in our local bar, which seems good and right.  Like, she's the only one allowed in there with bare feet.  Capricorn, take that and make a horoscope out of it.  I'm tired.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  I was at this fancy lunch the other day in a private home, and there was art everywhere, like an original Chihuly and such, and I tried to play my favorite secret party game, CVR, but it didn't take, probably because I was the only one who knew we were playing it, which sounds weird and creepy and disappointing, but really, it isn't.  Perhaps because of all the art.  Anyway, I'd tell you the game but that would spoil it.  Basically, it's a method of getting people off the boring topics and on to something else.  It's that time of year, so I'd like to suggest you make up your own game, and then test it on me.  We should be talking about interesting things, and making stuff, and eating soup.  And bread.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  Next month will be better than this one, I promise.  The children won't be so sick, and the conversations won't be so difficult, and so on.  In fact, you should have a party.  Sure, I'll come!  (Oh, was that sort of awkward?)


  1. I think I'll just stay out of elevators.

    1. Good move. (Unless you're a real doctor...)

  2. You just completely knock me out with these things. I swear. And I'm a Leo but I'm totally stealing this advice for Scorpio:
    "If you can't figure out what to do, imagine what a really cool, functional ethical person would do, and just copy. The way isn't always easy, blah blah blah."
    So thanks.

  3. My cousin was in Florida one year for Spring break and ran into some folks from Oklahoma. He wa telling them that his cousin (my brother) worked at OSU and never wore shoes, and they said 'No way! You're related to the Barefoot Guy?' Talk about famous feet.

    For the record, now that my brother is a full professor, he has started wearing shoes again, some of the time. Or at least sandals. And sometimes even pants. He's a professional, after all.

    1. I'm glad to hear he wears pants. I think that's a really good start on a professional career.

  4. I'm laughing, laughing, laughing. And as a Virgo, not tripping over cords. Despite needing another blog to read like a shot in the head, I'm adding you to my blogroll (via Ms. Moon).

  5. http://www.npr.org/2012/12/04/166519632/nasas-voyager-1-reaches-the-magnetic-highway

    1. Yeah, exactly, E-bro.

      "CORNISH: And as we mentioned earlier, this new region you're calling the magnetic highway. Explain exactly what does that mean?

      STONE: Well, the magnetic field of the sun is carried out by the supersonic solar wind; it's the atmosphere of the sun expanding outward a million miles per hour. And because the sun is rotating, the magnetic field - which remains anchored on the sun - gets spun out into a giant spiral.

      And we are still on the sun's magnetic field lines. But, in fact, those field lines now have connected to the outside so that what's inside can disappear into interstellar space outside. And what's outside in interstellar space can zoom in along the magnetic field."

      That clears it right up. :-)

    2. I've found the trick to understanding scientific things like that is to read it really, really fast, skipping over the big words. Just get the verbs, basically. Piece of cake. After all, who's going to give you an exam on it? Right!

  6. Betsy, I SO love your horoscopes. You delight, you entertain, you inform, you confess. And it touches my heart. I hope you have a better week coming up.

    1. JennyO, thank you so much for reading! My week wasn't so terrible after all. May your days be merry and bright, as they say. :-)

    2. Oops ... reading too much into it, I guess!

      Yours, too :)

  7. Betsy - these horoscopes made my brain zoom along some very rapidly expanding magnetic fields. I am so very glad you write them, and I don't know how you do it, but thank goodness you do.

    First, you were in Chicago? If you ever come back this way, I would love to meet you somewhere for an adventure, something nerdy, probably involving a museum or interesting historical sight. Nothing creepy or awkward, just fun.

    Second, I am going to keep the image of your daughter's bare feet photo in my head all day, like a prize. I've been thinking a lot about warm sunny places, but the hurtling through the sky in a metal tube to get there part is holding me back a little.

    Third, I'm having a Gemini kind of month, so I was heartened by my Pisces horoscope. My son is having his first ever surgery in a few days and I am beside myself, pre-worrying and all that. It's nothing major, but tonsils and deviated septum repair at 18 will surely suck, though I'm sure he'll enjoy breathing normally again when he's all healed. I keep thinking about how much his entire head is going to hurt and it makes me feel like puking. Turns out I'm the wussiest Mom ever.

    I'd like to fast forward to January, fresh start and all. If I ever get my house cleaned enough to have a party and can figure out what to wear, you are SO invited!

    I'm counting down the days until the light starts to return. 8 more days until we start getting minutes of daylight back. I think on the 21st I'm going to have a giant bonfire and burn some symbolic things to let go from 2012. You're invited to the bonfire too. :)

    1. Mel, thank you! It cracks me up that people enjoy the horoscopes, because it's really a symptom of me not being able to put together a thought that persists for more than about three sentences.
      And yes, I was in the Chicago, but only airport for a quick layover on my way to visit family in NY, but it sounds really fun to go on a nerdy adventure with you, so same deal, if you're ever in Seattle, I'll cook something up. I would so love to come to the bonfire. (Side note: about 80 percent of the people in the Chicago airport were wearing sweatpants. Is that normal? Or just an airport thing?)

      I hope the surgery goes smoothly and the suffering isn't too bad, and the days get longer quickly, and someone cleans your house and you think of stuff to wear and so on.

    2. Oh, and I'm going to post a pic of the feet, so you don't have to imagine it.

  8. I am also wishing for more light and someone to clean my house. Love your stuff! Remembering to get my hand stamped if I get sucked up onto the magnetic highway, so I can return!


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