Thursday, July 3, 2014

Your Summer Horoscopes, Probably



In celebration of Mercury retrograde being over, I present to you the Kaitlyn Kochany brand of soothsaying (that is to say, probably 100% garbage but who really know? Maybe I have untapped psychic powers. This type of thing apparently runs in our family. This makes sense, since we are witches, mostly).

ARIES: Do you remember Anne Geddes, the photographer who worked pretty much exclusively with babies? She would dress them as various flora and fauna; because they were babies, the instinct was to say "awww!" instead of questioning exactly what, in her creative process, led her to dress them in literal cabbage leaves and call it a day. I sense a Geddes-like path unfolding before you, where your choices are going to lead you somewhere strange and unexpected. Keep the babies out of it, if you can.

TAURUS: When I picture a Taurus, I picture a big red muscle car with black stripes down the side, and some meathead in a white tee-shirt leering out the side of it. It's sort of appealingly Brando-esque (Brandonian?), but it's also invasive and spitty, like the guy is going to smoke his cigarettes right in your face, aggressively call you "babe," and make you want to tug on the hem of your skirt to feel more covered up. I feel that somewhere in your heart of hearts, Taurus, you want to unleash your inner douchebag and go cruising with this dude. Fight that instinct so hard.

GEMINI: Picture yourself sitting at the top of a cliff, staring over the Arctic ocean. The grass between your fingers is lush and green. There are sheep bleating behind you. Puffins circle in the sky. The sky is infinite. Take a deep breath - ahhhh. Now keep that feeling in your heart. The place you are now is not the place you have always been.

CANCER: All the Cancers I know have massive sweet tooths, so my first recommendation is that you should book that long-overdue appointment with your dentist and get it over with. Secondly, wear sunscreen. Third, do some gently stretching before bed every night. Basically, I'm trying to tell you to get with the program in basic body maintenance. Get that mole checked. Stop buying gum instead of brushing your teeth, that is disgusting and you know it.

LEO: Everything I told Cancers, you should do the opposite. Go get a tattoo at the scary parlour on the boardwalk. Eat the discount oysters. Pull down the straps of your bathing suits and go lay in the sun for a while. Stop reading books that were on your university syllabus and buy some big fluffy airport novel. Stop being so good, dammit. You're making the rest of us uncomfortable.

VIRGO: I have literally never met a Virgo. I have my doubts as to if you're real or not. For the purposes of this horoscope, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you are real and not a collection of ghosts, but I have my eye on you, Virgo. In any case, if you are a ghost, I would beware of becoming trapped in closets in whatever house or office you're currently haunting. The ghost's un-life is already lonely enough without spending all your time with people's dirty skivvies or label makers. If you are real, beware of being startled in the bike lane by electric scooters coming up behind you at 30km/hr. Those fuckers are the SBD fart of the cycling world.

LIBRA: If you had been born in the 1920s, I would say it was your destiny to become a Zigfield Follies girl or an MGM bathing beauty. If you were born in the 1940s, I would tell you to go apply at the Playboy Club as a bunny. You have an above-average physical attractiveness, enough to get you onscreen but not enough to warrant a speaking role. You can either keep striving for that pinnacle of beauty (your eyebrows are looking good these days, by the way), or you can relax. Really up to you.

SCORPIO: Everyone knows the beefcake Phantom of the Opera, but if you're not aware of the Lon Chaney iteration, it's legitimately creepy. (Those teeth!) Your homework this week is to quit going for the pretty version of everything and start digging into the more repulsive side of the world. I would suggest visiting a reptile sanctuary, if one exists near you. Touch a lizard. Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

SAGITTARIUS: I am really holding back from recommending that y'all (including me) quit our jobs, fly to Norway, and have a three-day hike into the Lapland wilds. Really fighting advising us to move into some hippie farm commune and letting our freak flag fly all day, everyday. But....I can definitely advise you (me) to keep looking for opportunities to find balance between this constricting normal-person existence, and the altogether too free weirdo existence. There is a middle ground! Let's find it!

CAPRICORN: Have you seen Adventure Time? It's billed as a cartoon for kids, but in reality, it's this loopy, crazy world about life after the apocalypse. There is one living human, lots of portals to hellish worlds, and talking candy. I'm not really sure how to explain it, except that in fifty years when they're teaching Absurdism in the 21st Century at DeVry, this will definitely come up. How does this relate to you? Just watch a few episodes and then tell me what you think your horoscope should be.

AQUARIUS: Beware of cottages, especially their sump pumps.

PISCES: Do you think the ROM ever looks at the Louvre and just sort of sighs with embarrassment? There's a certain elegance in being simple, right? If you've been spending your time trying to recreate elaborate Pinterest crafts or following nineteen-step recipes with thirty different ingredients (looking at you, Food & Drink magazine!), maybe it's time to simplify. Here, look at this picture of a pink dolphin. Sometimes beautiful things just happen. Just chill out.

Image by Mina Braun via Milk Magazine.