Saturday, April 4th — ☉ ♈, ☽ ♌, ☿ ♓, ♀ ♊, ♂ & ♄ ♒, ♃ & ♇ ♑
Do you remember my Lizzo-like attitude of empowerment? Well, that prompted me to pen an imaginary hate letter to the Aries that went something like this:
Dear Mr. The Aries,
I hate you. Yes, you, with your Aries Sun, Sagittarius Moon, and Cancer Ascendant, I hate you. True, at one point, I found your swarthy, tattooed skin and Aries intensity beautiful, your deep brown eyes as inspiring as the optimism of your fiery moon, and the way your whole face crinkled when you laughed as cute as your Cancerian silliness and need-to-nurture; indeed, your sensitive-alternative-macho-man Aries /Sagittarius/Cancer personality at one point made me weak in the knees and wet in places that would be inappropriate to mention in an imaginary head letter. However, it is with great gladness that this is no longer the case. In fact, I will take this opportunity to confess that I hate you. Did I already say that? Oh well, it’s a testament to my hatred for you that it needs thrice repeating. Anywho, I hope you find your place in hell comfortable, because it’s where you belong.
Me, the badass Gemini sun, Pisces Moon, Leo Rising/Mars/Jupiter you could’ve had.
And because I spent so long editing the imaginary letter to the Aries, I voiced aloud a variation of it to Gabriel. Because as it turned out, in addition to being an Aries, he also has two of the same placements as the Aries: Sagittarius Moon, and Cancer Ascendant. (Because, apparently, the universe takes pleasure rubbing salt in my wounds.)
For obvious reasons, Gabriel’s planetary placements didn’t sit well with me.
“Wait, how does my Sagittarius Moon make me commitment-phobic?” Gabriel asked after I had gone on a lengthy rant about the deceptive nature of Sagittarius Moons.
“You misunderstood me,” I said, “You’re not commitment-phobic, your Cancer Ascendant actually makes you very enthusiastic about commitment — almost to the point of clinginess. Like, you would cling to a past marriage even though you said it’s over and that you want nothing more than to move forward. But your Sagittarius Moon makes you incapable of committing to a worthwhile relationship.”
“Ok…” he said slowly, “you’re telling me two different things…”
“Obviously you weren’t listening — which is the downside of having an Aries Sun & Mars. Both of those are very me-first placements, which make you incapable of considering the feelings of others — oh, and that 1st House South Node, just adds to the self-involvement…”
“How can you say I’m self-involved?” Gabriel snarled. “You don’t even know–”
“Sir, this is how astrology works,” I interrupted. “You’re not always going to hear what you want to hear about your chart. I don’t know if you’ve read my testimonials–”
“I read your testimonials,” he said, interrupting me, “and in none of them did they say that you fight with your clients and insult their placements. Thanks for nothing, Cosmic Cannibal.”
And with that, Gabriel hung up.
See what I mean? It was an abysmal reading.
My chart readings are usually very positive experiences. Excitement builds as soon as I see the client’s chart: it’s brand new, with new planetary and house placements, new signs and aspects to decipher…Excitement quickly turns to gratitude and joy when the client realizes something meaningful about their life or their personality. There’s really no better thrill than helping someone understand themselves through astrology. Unfortunately, that’s not what I did for Gabriel. Still, I wasn’t going to let his abysmal reading completely ruin my mood today.
I walked into my tiny living room and greeted my best friend/roommate, Vani Torres — Taurus, Sagittarius Moon, Capricorn ASC, lover of T. Swift and Tequila– who looked like an old Hollywood actress in her silk robe, a chic compact mirror & mascara wand in hand.
“I have a sterling reputation as an astrologer,” I said for the umpteenth time today, as I once again brought up the atrocious chart reading. “I mean, have you read my testimonials?”
“Yes, I know all about your testimonials,” Vani said wearily. Her freckled olive skin and green eyes glowed in the sunlight that peeked through the blinds of our living room window.
“I’ve never in all of my years of interpreting birth charts, ever argued with a client,” I continued. “Ok, sure, sometimes I can get a little snarky about the sign qualities people try to hide from themselves, but that’s one of the many gifts of my 8th House Pisces Moon!”
“You don’t have to sell me on your chart skills,” Vani said, “I’m on your side.”
“At least somebody is…” I sighed, defeated. This feeling worsened upon seeing my reflection in the window: my skin is pale, my small brown eyes are even smaller behind my thick glasses, and my unwashed bob is a mess; I feel gross & plain in comparison to Vani.
“You know whose fault this is, don’t you?” I said, re-targeting my discontent.
“The Aries, yes! If he hadn’t broken up with me just days before this reading–”
“Wasn’t the reading scheduled after the Aries dumped you?” Vani interrupted.
I acted as though I didn’t hear the question and quickly changed the subject.
“How are you doing?” I asked. As a makeup artist at Sephora, Vani is considered a nonessential worker. As such, she’s been quarantined with me in our cozy two-room house.
Vani shrugged and ruffled her jet-black pixie. “Besides worrying about the future and the health of every loved one in my life, I’m ok.”
A very loud howl/crash sound came from Vani’s room.
“Macaroni, however, is not. That dog keeps climbing my plants and falling off, thinks he’s about half his size. He’ll be fine,” she added, noticing my alarmed face. “Hey! Did you see last night’s episode of Eve Rapture’s Astro Hour?”
Eve Rapture is one of the best astrologers in the game. She currently does a weekly report — Astro Hour — on Instagram about all the week’s upcoming planetary transits.
“Of course I saw Astro Hour,” I huffed, “But I may have missed most of what she said because I may or may not have been crying about my abysmal chart reading…”
“She talked about Jupiter conjunct Pluto, that we should use the ‘opening of this celestial stargate’ to see the bigger picture of our lives and transform them. It was very inspiring.”
I rolled my eyes. Though Eve Rapture is undoubtedly a talented astrologer, I, an undoubtedly equally talented-yet-still-undiscovered astrologer, don’t need her advice on Jupiter conjunct Pluto in Capricorn. I already know everything about the transit.
Simply put, a conjunction is when two or more planets align in the same degree of the same sign, amplifying their energies. Today’s Jupiter/Pluto conjunction occurs in Capricorn.
Earth sign Capricorn deals with success and industry, as well as the building and organization of form, structure, and all things money and material. Jupiter is the planet of the higher mind — i.e.: the systems of thought that elevate our thinking and expand our worldview. Pluto is the planet of transformation and renewal. It influences generations, focusing its energy towards breaking down and permanently altering the systems no longer work.
“Eve said earth signs like moi will benefit most from this rare conjunction,” Vani continued, smiling smugly.
“What did she say about Gemini?” I asked automatically.
“I don’t remember, but she did say the conjunction will have each of us striving for significance and personal betterment and … what did she call it…? Oh yeah: ‘A brief but intense period of personal expansion and concentrated ambition.’ Apparently, it’s a really good day to set an intention.” Vani gave a girlish squeal. “I set the intention to transform how I feel about my body, because there’s so much fat-shaming going on right now. You should set an intention too!”
“Oh, I’ve already got an intention,” I said, tossing back my messy bob.
In addition to listening to sad disco songs and keeping from jumping off of our roof, I spent much of this week formulating ways to move on from my humiliating affair with the Aries and utilize the benefits of Venus-in-Gemini. And even though yesterday’s chart reading didn’t at all go as planned, I won’t let it interfere with my grand plan. Today, with Jupiter conjunct Pluto, I decided I’m gonna get a column at Planetarium, the nation’s foremost astrology magazine.
Ever heard of Planetarium? Of course you haven’t, only those who are on the up-and-up in the world of astrology know about Planetarium. It’s the Vogue of the astrology magazine world, and only the best planetary prophets get printed in the stylishly hip astro-magazine. Eve Rapture, Cleo Orbit, Luna Fortuna, they all have monthly columns and weekly horoscopes and scads of readers and followers all because of Planetarium. The astro-mag has made those ladies not just Instafamous, but FAMOUS famous. And that is what I want, more than anything.
“Cosmic Cannibal is gonna join the ranks of Planetarium’s epic star-gazers,” I beamed, elation building inside my chest. “I’m gonna get a column in the world’s #1 astrology magazine.”
“Oh no,” Vani muttered, as Macaroni, a pit bull mix, sauntered into the room, tail wagging.
I narrowed my eyes, petting Macaroni. “What do you mean ‘Oh no?”
“Well,” Vani hesitated, then frowned. “You do this when you get hurt by a guy. You get fired up about an impossible goal, and think it’s your ‘ticket to the top’, then when things don’t go according to your plan, you drop the whole thing and dream up another big goal.”
“So I’m a high-flyer who instinctively knows when to call it quits, how is that a bad thing?” I asked rhetorically. “Besides, I need goals. I’m an Enneagram 3, without goals I feel worthless.”
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to force yourself into being productive because we live in a capitalist society that places more importance on productivity than a person’s well- being?” Vani chirped.
I gawked at her.
“Or are you just trying to distract yourself from the Aries?”
“Absolutely not!” I huffed.
Vani looked as though she was thinking carefully about what to say next.
“Has… he tried to get in touch with you at all?”
“No, and I’m glad for it,” I said. “The best thing for me right now is to have him leave me the hell alone. I never want to see his dumb face again. I much prefer fantasizing my meteoric rise to fame to his stupid phone calls where acts as though he cares about my feelings.”
“Ok, but you know it’s totally ok if you’re not totally ok?”
This made me smile. Loyalty, sincerity, and concern are but a few of the incredible qualities of Taureans like Vani.
“But I am ok,” I said. “I’m fine, great, in fact!”
My too-wise-for-her-own-good Taurus best friend, muttered something that sounded eerily like, “Sure you are…” but didn’t press the issue.
“I appreciate your concern, Vani,” I said, “but concern is the last thing I need, I need–”
“A goal, yes, I know,” she said, sounding slightly weary. “And I know you love setting impossible goals that eventually crush your spirit just so you can build it back up again, but how are you gonna convince Planetarium to give you a column? Are they even hiring?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, frowning slightly, “but I’m certainly going to figure it out.”
After Vani and I made dinner, I returned to my Jupiter-conjunct-Pluto plan to get my name in Planetarium. Turns out, the stellar astro-magazine isn’t hiring, so my chances of getting a column have slimmed a bit. But that’s never stopped me before: I got my job at Ecliptic using pluck and persistence, despite the odds being stacked against me. And like Vani pointed out, the question isn’t am I going to get a column at Planetarium, but how and also, when?
These questions bobbed around in my head as I flipped through the latest issue of the magazine until I found Cleo Orbit’s latest article, “Your Breakup Horoscope”. Intrigued, I read her forecast for Gemini:
“Forward-thinking Twins don’t like to dwell on the past, but that doesn’t mean the past doesn’t still dwell in your minds after a relationship is over. Geminis always try to out-think the post-breakup emotions, but this is fruitless toil. The best possible solution for you, Gemini bb, is to feel the feelings. Unless you want to live in a perpetual state of denial and emotional immaturity, all the while repeating the phrase ‘I’m fine’ over and over again…”
I threw the magazine onto the floor and flopped onto my bed to stare at the ceiling.
Chuh! I thought to myself. What does Cleo Orbit the Virgo know about Geminis anyway? I AM fine, and I’m not in a state of denial… Am I?
I mean, could I be considered “fine” if behind my “go-gettum-tiger” attitude, I’m actually a jumble of many different emotions, none of which I want to feel at the moment because the majority of them are too painful to even think about? Also, is it a fair estimation to say that I’m fine even if I’ve been listening to Yvonne Elliman’s “Love Me” on repeat every night, crying myself to sleep as Elliman croons the following lyrics:
🎶I remember times my love
When we really had it all
You were always there to make me smile
To help me when I fall🎶 ?
Perhaps I’m just fond of the smooth voice of American pop star, Yvonne Elliman? Or maybe I couldn’t stop listening to the song because it was the song the Aries and I listened to when we first kissed? No, it’s definitely not for that reason. Not. At. All. Because he’s a lying cheat. And I’m totally over him. I have too big of plans to be concerned with a lying, cheating Aries. Yep. Yep. Planetarium, here I come…
*please note, COSMIC CHRONICLES is a fictional series; Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this series are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.