November. That magical month when the seasons change. The leaves start to turn. Families join together to give thanks for food, then eat it all. Airport lines. Grocery store lines. Facial lines. There is truly so much to be thankful for in November. I think it’s no great coincidence that the Plymouth settlers also gave thanks during this month as well. Not only did they have their first successful harvest, but I suspect they were ecstatic that their tall buckle boots stopped making their feet sweat. So, inspired by our forefathers and mothers that peacefully enjoyed a meal together, here are my visions for your Thanksgiving.
As the most intensely profound, powerful character in the zodiac, when you give thanks, you really give thanks. Which explains why I predict you will have not one, but a month full of Thanksgiving dinners to give thanks for all your blessings—a fantastic house, a great haircut, a dedicated Pilates instructor, a new coffee bar on your block, and enough friends to invite to all these Thanksgiving dinners. This month of gratitude and food might be one of your best this year. Just don’t ignore your Pilates instructor.
Sag, thanks for being such a positive person. You’re Switzerland in the middle of Mom, crazy Aunt Judy, and your rebellious younger sister. Thanks to your neutrality, honesty, and enthusiasm, I predict Thanksgiving dinner will go off with nothing more than a dramatic monologue from little sis about cruelty to turkeys, which you’ve already headed off at the pass by buying a free-range bird. Smart ol’ Sag.
It’s all business for you. That’s why I know you’ll get in and out of Thanksgiving dinner without a family scar or calorie on you. Your well-planned (read: anal) personality got you a flight home the night before Turkey Day and a flight out the morning after, avoiding high traffic at the airport and a disastrous family shopping day adventure. And, because you’re so freaking disciplined, I know you already have a book about how to get through Thanksgiving without gaining weight on your night stand. If anyone can do it, you can, Capricorn.
Dear Aquarius, please do us all a favor and don’t have a vegetarian Thanksgiving this year. Because if you do, I predict a very lonely Thanksgiving table. You’re so sweet, creative, and kind to spare the life of several turkeys, yams, potatoes, cranberries, and green beans, but tofurkey with vegan gravy? Well, let’s just say all your friends found themselves at a drive-thru shortly after dinner. It’s hard for me to tell you this, but for once in your cause-oriented life, follow the herd.
Okay, Pisces, I’m going to tell you something you might not want to hear, but I can’t deny the voices in my head. You know that guy that keeps showing up at happy hour with your friends? He’s not just there for the drink specials. He. Likes. You. And, he’s going to be at your urban family’s Thanksgiving Dinner. That shy, demure thing you’re working? It’s not working. He probably thinks you’re giving him the snub. So, take the turkey by the leg (figuratively, of course) and strike up a convo with him. Dare I say, sit by him at dinner. Who knows, something might—gasp!—happen.
The family knows you’ve been secretly going to improv night downtown (your older brother leaked it), so carpe turkey day. This Thanksgiving, while the family sits around the table post-turkey, put your newfound comedic skills to good use. I predict this tryptophan-infested crowd will love your material. Plus, no one wants to hear about your Dad’s newest edition to his train collection.
This is the year you are hosting Thanksgiving dinner at your table. Taurus darling, we both know because you’re so calm and collected that it will be the best Thanksgiving dinner in recent family history. Table settings, perfect. Wine pairing, perfect. Conversation management, perfect. I’m sensing phenomenal hostess gifts. I’m talking expensive candles, massage gift certificates. Well done, darling. Well done.
You might think you’re headed for crisis mode, being the only single gal invited to an all couples Thanksgiving weekend at your best friend’s mountain chalet. But, fear not. I sense the tall, brown-haired, gentleman that always seems to sit near you on the bus will make a move early in the month that will lead to many reasons to be very thankful by Turkey Day.
This is the one time of year you can wear an apron and get away with it. So just do it. That lovely patch-worked thing hangs in your closet, begging you to bake pies all year long, and you deny it, trying to be the modern, food-to-go gal. Well, not this month. I feel your need to be a homebody, honey. Put on that apron with pride. Dab some flour on your face. Toss your hair up into a bun. Bake until you can’t bake no more. Your friends and neighbors will thank you.
Lazy, loveable Leo. I see a spot on the old family couch calling your name. Don’t deny it. Buy yourself some comfy pants and park it for a couple of days. I know you feel you’re too old for your parents to cook for you while you’re home visiting, but when they deliver the toasted pumpkin seeds and hot toddy to the couch while you’re hours deep in a BBC America Austen movie marathon, you’ll forget all about that guilt.
You’ll stress and stress about what to do for Thanksgiving dinner this whole month. Why aren’t your cool new neighbors inviting you over for that party you know they are having? Chill out. With your incredible personality, you’re going to get an invite from someone other than your family. So maybe it isn’t the super modern neighbors. Maybe it will be your book club friends. They might not be as hot and happening, but really, would you rather avoid eating so as not to get anything stuck in your teeth? Or have a total calorie fest with ladies while gossiping about said neighbors?
This month might present a bit of a dilemma for you, Libra. Your goodness led you to invite both your best friend and your co-worker—who faced off over a gentleman at your last party—to Thanksgiving Dinner. What to do? Rely on your clever instincts and a well-planned seating chart. And if that doesn’t work, invite the new guy in your building that just moved in from London. A hunky Brit will divert any scorned lady’s attention.
Sarah Pickerel Sibley is a writer at an advertising and design agency in Denver, Colorado. She received her clairvoyant gift when she was mistakenly left behind at the circus as a child. Looking for her parents, she wandered in to the psychic lady’s tent and there she stayed for the greater part of an hour. There was an immediate connection between Sarah and the psychic—one that would not be fully realized until Sarah correctly predicted everyone would start drinking coffee, and that coffee shops would open on every corner. Then she knew she had something very special in her soul.