Friday, September 24, 2010

Poetic License Horoscope for September 24-29

A Mini Tarot Reading

(Note: If you enjoy made-up advice and pop-culture mysticism, come visit me at the Mount Airy Village Fair this Sunday, September 26th! You can get a totally made up Tarot reading, make September Valentines, and peruse my brand new book of love poems, Adventures of A Lazy Polyamorist. XOXOXOX-Jane)

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Four of Cups-: Gloria Steinem said “Women have a terminal case of gratitude.” I recently switched my Gratitude Journal to a Happiness List. I felt like being so grateful made me disappear and get taken for granted. Dial back the thank you notes, but still notice what you’re given.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Force- A fancy lady is grasping the lion’s jaw. The lion looks kind of abashed. You are wearing infinity as hat—grasp the application process, your bank balance, your forgotten novel, any untamable thing.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): The Sun- Your egg has hatched, your community garden is exploding with tomatoes, and your tweets are retweeted to rival Rob Cordry’s. Like Lady Gaga bringing her asked-and-told soldiers onto the red carpet and into the news cycle, use your weird voice for good.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Ten of Wands- If you’re feeling overwhelmed, it might be a good time to remember that gold is heavy. Delegate some of your riches; pass it on like coins along the road.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): The Lovers- Your interloper might not be an arrow-wielding centaur, but nonetheless you need some element of hybridizing, some alchemy, even if it only means switching to half-decaf, making art in mixed media, or being a little two-faced.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Five of Cups- Something you put a lot of stock in is starting to lose some of its meaning—that very well COULD be you in the spotlight, losing your religion. Be lost. Be a little at sea and see what floats by next.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Wheel of Fortune- I married a woman who is excellent at making paper boats. I would advise you to do the same. It doesn’t matter if you lose your crown or ascend to the seagulls; these temporary vessels keep you strangely grounded.

Aries (March 21-April 18): The Moon- Once, when I was 20 or so, I stayed up all night painting The Moon card for Joe Prisco, a boyfriend of questionable value. He dumped me that very weekend, but a least I had the painting.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): Five of Coins- In the words of LCD Soundsystem, “Drunk girls know that love is an astronaut. It comes back but it’s never the same.” Try again anyway.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): Nine of Wands- Choose nine things you can’t do anything about this week. Don’t do anything about them.

Cancer (June 22-July 23): Queen of Cups- According to heartthrob folk singer Peter Mulvey, “The trouble with shoes is they come untied. You might take a fall down the stairs. Then a poet might come along and say “Isn’t that just like life?” The trouble with poets is they see poetry everywhere.” Be like that.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): The Magician- Intuition isn’t just blindly letting your feelings make your decisions. It’s using the information already stored in your brain. Blink like Malcolm Gladwell, Leo, and trust your decisions.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Poetic License Horoscope for Sept 17-23

A Little Surly in Places

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): My last trip to the ocean this summer was all about getting pummeled by waves, falling into the surf over and over, struggling to the left or right as the lifeguard whistled us to safety. It was sandy for my bathing suit and cleanse-y for my soul.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Channel your inner Steven Slater, who over the summer became a national hero when he quit his flight attendant job in a flourish of swears and beer. No need to quit, but do take a break from the corporate yolk of forced cheerfulness, before you get trapped in the air with it.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): A fake Buddhist guest speaker at church a few weeks ago suggested that the Gulf Oil Spill was a result of bad Karma that came from us not trying hard enough to stop the war. Didn’t she hear the dolphins picketing, the turtles quietly lighting themselves on fire? People are as careless with the word “Karma” as they are with the word “literally.”

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Can we dispatch a fleet of educators just to talk lovingly and instructively to children on the bus? Instead of telling them to shut up? That would be a good job for you.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Like a parent who finds the house too quiet now that his or her brood has gone back to school, take time to fold the laundry in silence. Read a book. Read seven. Watch inappropriate things on the television. Swear yourself silly.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Things to do before you trade in your old phone: mourn your grandfather’s last number. Forward your talisman-texts to someone you trust. Appreciate the size of the buttons. Put your photos someplace safe.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Monday night I was walking in Love Park with my wife when a presidential motorcade happened by. The next morning I saw the Secret Service metal detecting kids on their way into school. It was like someone was noticing us. (But he never texts anymore…)

Aries (March 21-April 18): The absolute value of a number is its distance from zero on the number line. The absolute value of -7 is 7. The absolute value of work is its closeness to sincerity. I don’t know how to graph that.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): You get Mad Men this week! Don Draper realized that he may not be able to handle the new generation of women because they tend to speak more freely. At the same time, he realized they were pretty willing to give blow jobs. I guess the moral here is, let people speak.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): Last week on Project Runway, Mondo was dismayed to find himself paired with Michael C. until they actually started the project and he discovered that his partner was much more competent than groupthink dictated. Weren’t they ADORABLE snuggling at the end?

Cancer (June 22-July 23): This week, think about forbidden things. Tack up pictures of lost loves on your bulletin board. Go ahead and hate on some virtuous people. Covet covet covet! Think some beloved bands are overrated. The world probably won’t end.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I am considering graduating myself from therapy for this reason: The lady suggested that I interrupt my wife’s job-hunting to talk about how unhappy her current job makes us.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Poetic License Horoscope for September 13-19

From the Last Day of Summer

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): I’m writing this from a bench in the Wissahickon. In front of me, a family is applauding. Behind me, a child is playing “Yellow Submarine” on the violin. Congratulate yourself on a summer well spent.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): (SPOILER ALERT?) Don Draper: "Somebody very important to me died. "Peggy: "Who?" Don: "The only person in the world who really knew me." Peggy: "That's not true." Don’s at his best when he’s with his gal pals, and so are you.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Learn to identify birdsongs so that you can think of them as portents. The purple finch means “all is well.” The oriole means “Are you KIDDING me with how beautiful this is?” The blue jay means “You’re waking up at home.”

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Once you start birdwatching, you’ll realize how little detail you were seeing before. You’ll realize that what you thought were sparrows were actually chickadees, house finches, winter goldfinches, juncos, and sparrows. Start seeing the whole spectrum of birds.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): A Capricorn pal asked me to write cooler predictions for her, but think of it as a Rorschach test—I could press a butterfly into the ink between the folded pages, but you could see absolutely anything.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): This month’s Glamour features an article called “How to Get Over the Guy You Can’t Get Over.” It is illustrated by a picture of a girl with a Polaroid in her polka dot undies. The advice goes from “Go Ahead and Wallow,” to “Move the Eff on Already.” To avoid whatever you need to get over, you won’t have to miss many parties.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Big lug Lane on Big Brother had this to say when housemate Britney won $10,000: "Damn it, she does not need 10 Gs. She's gonna use that for lipstick and leggings." Help yourself to as many alliterative luxuries as you can this week.

Aries (March 21-April 18): In Carolyn Parkhurst’s novel The Nobodies Album, the protagonist is a novelist in the process of rewriting the endings of all her books to try and fix her life. You don’t need rewritings, though, just sequels.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): Make a list of your summer accomplishments. Include tomatoes grown, currents fought, TV series watched in one sitting. Light the list on fire for one more set of S’mores.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): Go ahead and pray for the things you want. Your deity of choice will certainly accept your crumpled list. Don’t ask me how I know this.

Cancer (June 22-July 23): Anne Lamott said “Write like your parents are dead.” but that is too grisly for me. How about “Write like your in-laws aren’t on your Facebook.” (Confidential to Lawsons: LOVE YOU!)

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I have been meaning to learn the names of butterflies, but I’ve been putting it off. So I Googled “Butterfly identification” and saved some directories to the desktop. 1. I feel a little richer that way. 2. I think I saw a Mourning Cloak.

by Jane Cassady

Friday, September 03, 2010

Poetic License Horoscope Sept 3-9

Who Watches Giles?

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Write your ten birthday wishes out in sparkle-icing on a sheet cake. Learn to make frosting roses, it’s about time. Count your hopes in sugar petals. Avoid red food coloring, it’s bitter.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): By way of alleviating stress, call up ten people you love and say nice things about them. Be emphatic. Your aches and pains will decrease.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): The motto of Harry’s Occult Shop over on South Street is “We aim to help.” You get the feeling that by “we” they don’t mean “We the guys behind the apothocary counter,” but more like “We and all the unseen forces of the universe.” Ask for that kind of help.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): This week, be like Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Be a Watcher to every wild force for goodness, every supernaturally strong slangy archetype. Don’t wish you were somewhere that’s else.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): You are a calendar of how to make strawberry shortcake. On Monday, decide biscuits or sweet sponge cake. Tuesday, slice the strawberries, etc.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): How to have a lovely Baroque-pop catharsis: 1. Set up Google Chrome as your browser. 2. Close all other windows. 3. Go to 4. Type in your first address. 5. Search.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): It might be difficult for Mad Men to make rock bottom look stylish. Luckily, you have no such worries. You are as fresh and bright as a new hat.

Aries (March 21-April 18): This week, a guru of mine very quickly became an un-guru when she made fun of a man who kept his dog on a very long leash. This is at least a failure of imagination.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): I forget the name of the artist who installed a tree branch over the gate at Dia:Beacon as a piece of art. Turning the branch upside-down fooled it into thinking it was alive and blooming one last time.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): Something I learned while napping to Radiolab: until very recently, like the 1970s, zoos were nothing but wire cages and concrete. Be like whoever it was who came up with naturalistic animal habitats—still a zoo, but still.

Cancer (June 22-July 23): In her poem “Other Prohibited Items,” Martha Greenfield lists items confiscated at airport security, including a sentimental wrench, rare rosewater, breast milk still warm. What should you travel with? What should you risk?

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Some ponderings about Gretchen from Project Runway: 1. Do you think she knows she’ll be edited this way? 2. She’s just saying out loud what our Monkey Mind is always yammering about. 3. How does one go on after having been yelled at by Tim Gunn?

by Jane Cassady