Horoscopes: The Jeffrey is Real Edition

Aries (3/21 – 4/19): I was walking in the woods at a site the other day when a new client, whom I'd never met, came to find me.  He walked up, held out his hand to shake, and said, "Do I have bad breath?"  I didn't know that was a question we get to ask random business associates, but I guess I was wrong.  We walked around for a bit, and then he said, "Oh, excuse me, my pants are falling down." I looked, and it was absolutely true.  They were falling way down.  After a bit, he said he had something to show me in his office, and as usual, I was super curious, so I followed him into his house and into the upstairs office (which is one of the big differences between being 22 and 52).  The office was filled with half-built model airplanes, a larger than life cardboard cutout of himself as a cowboy, x-acto knives, glue, stacks of snapshots, hundreds of bowling trophies and ribbons, saws, sharpies, and reams and reams of paper scattered in disorderly piles on the large mahogany desk.  If this were a movie, the lead would enter the room and say, "Oh my god!  We've been ransacked!"  Be he seemed okay with everything.  The whole episode was on that razor thin boundary between creepy and refreshing, which is precisely how your week will be, Aries.  See if you can stay on the refreshing side of things.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  I had dinner with a friend the other night who, not once or twice, but three times asked if I wanted to know a secret.  (Has anyone ever answered no to that question?  "Yeah, why don't you just keep that to yourself.  I'm not very interested."). And now I know three different secrets which I hope I'm worthy of.  Of course I can't tell you what they are, but it did make me think I should do more of that.  Rather than having a dumb blog, I should be a woman of mystery.  Right?  Like, hang out with me, people, and there will be super interesting secrets ahead!  I'm more like, "here are all my cards.  Yep, that's all of them."  Taurus, you already are a person of mystery.  Keep it up.  (Oh, and maybe just tell me one or two secrets that I can add to my dossier.)

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  As we circumnavigated The Nation the other day, we did some planning for the apocalypse.  I don't really have much to offer as a team member, so I try to emphasize how much salt I have, because I like to think that makes me useful.  As you know, I make salt out  Puget Sound, which isn't actually making anything at all; it's just waiting for evaporation to happen.  Anyway, during our circumnavigation, my companion mentioned that cow parsnip can be used as a source of salt.  Gemini, am I being replaced on the team by a common weed?  I'm trying to come up with another attribute, something that would be useful during the apocalypse that I'd be uniquely positioned to offer, but nothing is coming to mind.  Just the salt.  Grrr.  Gemini, you won't have any problem getting on a team.  And in case you end up being the team captain, I have salt, and I know the King County Code really well, and I own a digital thermometer.

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21): Last week I had the giant good fortune to be present when Dr. A defended her dissertation, which was a ton of hard work in all the ways that the humans work hard, and she did important research about that topic that causes me to cover my ears (climate change).  And a lovely side benefit was getting to see The Others.  Even though I hadn't seen them in forever, after about five minutes we had inside jokes and laughter, and they were actually at 6th and I.  Right?  Anyway, Cancer, this week, work hard in all the good ways, and enjoy a festive drink with me.  Maybe some Spanish coffee or something off the beaten path.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  I'm sitting at a different coffee shop (I know!) and the woman behind me, who's hogging the only actual desk, started vigorously and loudly stirring her iced drink with the plastic straw.  I turned around to see what was going on. "Wow," I said, "I thought that was a pencil sharpener."  That's kind of funny, right?  Like, who has pencils anymore?  Who sharpens them, who brings a pencil sharpener to a coffee shop?  Etc.  But she just stared at me blankly and said, "You thought that was a pencil sharpener.  Oh.  No, it was me stirring my drink."  In a flat  non-curious monotone.  I'm so not a fan of non-curiosity, Leo.  This week, wonder more.  Wonder about everything.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I had this dream the other night, you know the one.  Where I'm lying on the floor under a table in the library trying to write a stupid book because all the chairs are full, and the book seems pointless.  And then I remember that I have a plane to catch in an hour, and I should pull myself up off the floor and ride my bike the 45 miles to the airport, because I was supposed to be there an hour ago.  I go out to my bike and it has a flat tire, so I start fixing that, and then I realize that I don't have a good way to carry my huge suitcase, so I'm just holding it in my hand and it's banging against me while I pedal, and I can't really change gears with one hand and even though I know I'm not going to make it, I pedal on doggedly.  And that's sort of what we do in our lives, right?  We're all dying, as is everyone we love, but we keep pedaling anyway.  I think that's good, Virgo, and so will your week be.  (Can a legit sentence end with "be"?  Yes.)

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I think there's only one person besides me who actually believes I have a pet rabbit named Jeffrey, so I'm including a picture.  This is my pet (noun), which, it's been pointed out, I never engage with as the verb, but we talk to each other and he's so completely not like that other rabbit, Harvey, because Cake Boss actually saw him the other day.  Libra, talk to the animals this week.  They like that.  

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  I'm listening in to a conversation, and the man says, "Yeah, I don't really know anything about the Grateful Dead."  It doesn't make sense, because he's the right age and demographic to know more.  "I've heard Casey Jones, but that's about it."

The woman says, "Oh, you should go home and listen to 'Ripple'.  It's a great song."

"Oh cool!  My wife would like that too.  That's how I seduced her the first time!  With Ripple."
Proving once again how people can be excited about a big misunderstanding.  At the risk of seeming like that creepy person who never is really in a conversation, but rather, just lurks around listening, I will say that it's pretty amazing what's going on all around me.     

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): I hardly remember anything from Goulds Book of Fish, which I read about 10 years ago, except for one part where a guy says, "You know, life only hands you so many chances, and if you piss all over them, life sort of gives up on you."  I think that's true.  Don't piss on any chances this week, Sag.  Just be your charming self.  And drive carefully.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  Do you know those people, the ones who never own anything, and all of the problems in the world are someone else's fault?  Yeah, me too.  I think the best thing for the planet right now is if we all take it upon ourselves to own our shit, apologize well, and be generous with our feelings and our things.  Tall order, I know, but picture the world if everyone behaved that way.  Lead the way, Capricorn.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  I keep thinking that it shouldn't be that hard to get rich when I look around and see all the people who've done it.  It seems like all you need is an idea and the ability to doggedly pursue it.  It's that "doggedly pursue" part that's escaped me.  I'm more the kind of dog that naps on the couch.  But Aquarius, you should totally doggedly pursue something this week.  Let me know if you need companionship on your journey.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  I've been carrying my one little beer to the private beach each night and drinking it while I watch the water, which is about the cheapest vacation one could have.  It also reminds me that yes, there are beavers and giant fish and quite possibly monsters in there, and they're kind of fun to watch.  Pisces, let's do some water-y things this summer.  Bring your wetsuit or at least your thermometer.


  1. Oh my dear. As I was reading this (and I am a Leo), my very own grandson was...sharpening pencils. He found a bag of colored pencils with a pencil sharpener in it (the little kind) and I showed him how to use it and there he was, sharpening, sharpening. In the nude, I might add because he is three and it is hot and he likes to be naked.
    Gawd. You make me believe in fate.
    And I wonder about that and every other darn thing.

    1. Awww. That is a very sweet image. Not like the business lady and her fancy drink that just sounded like a pencil sharpener...

  2. If I run into any animals that look friendly I promise you I will talk to them.

    1. Yes! Let me know how it works out.

  3. Don't worry too much about being replaced by cow parsnips......for one thing....what the hell are they? Who in the world would recognize them anyway? And I can't believe they could provide as much salt as Puget Sound.

    Just continue with your salt production. Your ace in the hole is safe.

    1. These are some excellent points, Lo. To think I was even worried about being replaced by cow parsnip. Sheesh.

  4. The wee beer, the wee beach, a private vacation. I must admit, as a Pisces (back me up here Mel), I take private vacations frequently. At parties, having dinner with my girlfriend, listening (haha!) to clients. I'm on VACATION, people. In one ear, out the other. Pisces may get a reputation for sloth and torpor but vacations are harmless. Dammit.

    Anad speaking of monsters-they are in the water and they will eat you if you don't keep kicking. The monsters will rip your legs right off. This is a true fact, as opposed to a wobbly or weepy fact.

    1. See? Tiny vacations everywhere. I am such a fan of that, Beth. I'm still wondering what facts might be considered wobbly or weepy. I know a lot about weeping, fact and fiction, but not so much on wobbly.

  5. "After a bit, he said he had something to show me in his office, and as usual, I was super curious, so I followed him into his house..."

    I read this as "super cautious" the first time, and thought you were poking fun at yourself (because this is not the first time, is it, that you should have been more cautious, and weren't?). And it was pretty funny, even though that's not what you wrote and it's not what you intended, but you made me smile WITHOUT EVEN TRYING! Now, that is some talent :)

    1. Oh, I should be super cautious! I think that would be more becoming, don't you? But I'm glad you were amused!


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