The scoop. The 'scopes.

Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  What's going on with Swing States?   Are entire states organized around indecisive people?  With such an extreme choice, do people actually change their mind, back and forth? Look at the graph for Florida.  See?   Do indecisive people get asked to move to certain states?   ("Ahem.  We think you might really enjoy North Carolina...") And then, when they get there, is it just a big coin toss free for all?  Rho sham bo?  Pisces, don't ever forget that Paper is a strong opening move.  I'm dead serious. 

Aries (3/21 - 4/19):  Someone was talking recently about how they need more hobbies, and I couldn't quite imagine that.  I have so many hobbies that I can barely get anything done.  But the people who really intrigue me are the ones who go so deep into one thing that they don't even realize that they're the only one on that track.  For example, one of my favorite podcasts is Jake's Rolex Watch Blog.  (For starters, calling a podcast a blog is original.)  Jake interviews famous people about their rolex watch. Astronauts, politicians, world figures.  "When did you get your first Rolex?" There's a tribute to Arnold Palmer on there now, "Six decades wearing nothing but Rolex." (Which makes him sound like a naked golfer -- naked except for the wrist area, of course.)  Go deep, Aries.  See what you can find.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  Speaking of Nancy Sinatra, These Boots are Made for Walking came on the strange Spotify station I'm listening to.  I'd recommend that we all carry that song around in our emergency preparedness kits.  The dark times are coming!  Make your kit now.  (And let me know what else to pack.)

Gemini (5/21 - 6/21):  Last night I had a dream that I was sitting in a giant lecture hall ready to take notes, and the people around me in class were men in suits and uniforms, which made me a little nervous.  At some point, I had to get up to go to a Hillary event, and tried to excuse myself.  One of the guys, a cop, gave me this sneering condescending look, like, "really?  You're voting for her?" and asked if he could explain things to me.  Go ahead, I said, but I get to explain to you next.  (I'm calling this sort of dream a Mansplaining Revenge Dream.)  So he did the blah blah about lying Hillary, and then I gave this awesome speech (it was my dream, after all!) about how in any other field, experience is considered an asset, and she's been smeared for years but it turns out  she's a caring human with tons of experience,.  He gave me that smug sneer but as I was leaving one of the other cops said something nice and I thought I gave a pretty damn good speech.  Gemini, this week, make your mansplaining revenge dreams come true!

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21): A star like ours has been communicating with Russia, which is pretty exciting.  (Seems like everyone but me is communicating with Russia these days.)  I guess the star is exactly like ours without the people, internet, sasquatches, and Pokemon Go, and conspiracy theories.  Other than that?  Identical.  

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Here's something cool: the planet has been divided into  57 trillion polygons, and a three word address has been assigned to  each spot.  What this means, of course, is that each tree now has an address.  Warning, Leo, you can spend endless amounts of time looking things up.  And then forgetting the three words.  And then thinking of new places to look up.  

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  I've been looking for a mystery for a while now, something fun to solve that requires a bit of thinking and looking around.  Maybe even using the trick I just learned of getting soot from the tail pipe to use to dust for finger prints.  So far, no mysteries.  Any ideas, Virgo?  

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  Without revealing too much, let me just tell you that one of the Time Travel Portals (the only one I know about) has the three word Hotel.Gold.Forest.  I think it only goes back as far as 1982, but still.   Ok, here's something else: Matthew Dicks, a master storyteller, offers this tip to become a better storyteller:  each day, write a few words in an excel spreadsheet documenting what the BEST story for that day would be.  Good idea, Libra.  Let's do it. 

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  The other night I dreamt that Trump won the election, and it was chilling.  But strangely, my first thought was, Jeez, this is so not the right time to have a parade full of vegetables.  That would be inappropriate!  It took me about 10 minutes upon waking to realize it was merely a nightmare.  Don't worry, Scorp, the parade is still on.  Embrace your inner vegetable.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): Are there still pay toilets in the world?  I don't think I've seen one in about 30 years.  Is it just me?  When did peeing become a thing you can just do for free? I still remember carrying a dime in my shoe, 'just in case'.  And what's happening to the GDP without that revenue stream (a literal stream!)  Sag, see what you can find out.  

Capricorn (12/22 - 1/19): I think its true that many women can't bear to really look at how poorly Hillary has been treated; its easier to believe that the lies about her have some basis.  We prefer, sometimes, to believe lies than to look at painful truths.  I read Second Shift when it came out, about how in families where both parents work outside of the home, women do most of the housework.  When the author followed up with couples a few years after the lopsided division of labor had been quantified, one of three things had happened:  the couple had split labor more fairly (rare), split up, or, most commonly, had adopted a new myth that the workload was equal.  For example, they would reveal that wife cooked all the meals and cleaned the inside of the house, while the husband kept the garage clean.  They called it Even Steven.  The author surmised that women had to see their marriage as fair in order to stay.  I think that's a bit of what's going on with the election, with women who are willing to vote for a misogynist.  (Same reason people date misogynists -- this can't really be how it is!)

Aquarius (1/20-2/18):  Gary Johnson has a climate change plan:  Mars. I'd rather go to that planet that's been contacting Russia, myself. Maybe that's because Martians have been been represented as weird, creepy little people.  Oh wait, that's not why!  The reason I don't want to get in a space shipis because we have this gorgeous earth, filled with lovely insects and trees and vegetables.  Shouldn't we take care of that?  This is where we live, people!  Let's try to make it last.  And, by the way?  We're having a parade anyway.  We will need it more than ever.