With winter coming to a close, it’s an end of hibernation. What does this month have in store for you? A violent rocking as the world turns upside down and a new world order emerges? No, that sounds tragic. Waking up to a new world, full of danger and excitement? Yes, that’s much gentler. Below is what you might expect for the month. Lucky numbers (253-325-32-788-3) are the same for each sign—the visionary only got one fortune cookie at Hong Kong Palace, so deal.
As springtime approaches, you’ll find yourself ready for a break. You’ll head off to a warm destination with sweet drinks and the serene lapping sound of the surf … only for it all to be interrupted by obnoxious, drunk college students attending MTV’s Spring Break 27. You’ll have to choose to end your vacation early or join the wet t-shirt contest (consult with Taurus). The visionary recommends you pay for the vacation by buying underage students booze, levying a hefty 50 percent tax.
You’ve had a tough attitude since you were a tot, but this month you’ll be put to the test with a sizable challenge—your taxes. Sure, you could wait until the middle of April, but this season you’re going to chop into your 1040A, 1098-C (the airplane you donated), 1098-T (student loans), 1099-B (your bartering service), 1099-R (that damn IRA you’ve been meaning to build up), and 4835 (farm rental income). On second thought, wait until the middle of next month.
The stars say it’s your month to embrace the wild side. That can mean only one thing: Cougar Time. Put on those clawing-my-eyes-out uncomfortable stilettos, down several caramel appletinis, and grind perilously close to that twenty-one-year-old barback. You’re never too old to throw caution into the wind (or yourself at someone), even if it is your son’s best friend.
This month is all about a makeover. You’re Italian on your mom’s side, Hungarian on your father’s, but don’t let that stop you from claiming Irish heritage this month, just in time for St. Patty’s Day. Yes, your olive complexion and anything-but-red hair scream Irish. And yes, you were raised on colcannon and boiled cabbage. And of course that accent kind of sounds like brogue. Don’t mind the naysayers and folks who look at you askance. Tell them, “Go hifreann leat!” (To hell with you!) But don’t ask the visionary how to pronounce it.
Seek solace in the lighter side of things. It’s a crazy world out there—economic meltdown, financial freefall, thunderous storms. And also the place where Madea Goes to Jail earns $65 million in two weeks. Perhaps the government should place Citigroup in Tyler Perry’s receivership; he’s the only one making money nowadays. The visionary envisions you starring in a self-written comedy; it’s an off-Broadway musical about your woes. You’ll find the funny in fatalism.
Despite your best intentions, that New Year’s resolution has become that New Year’s failure-to-keep-that-resolution (nine years strong—yes!). Losing those pounds, running that 5K, skinning the dead buffalo you’ve kept in the garage—all those things have gone undone and interest is waning. Of course Rock Band 2 just came out and you nailed that sweet Ratt guitar solo. Things are on the up and up. Make sure you enter this month as a lion and come out a lion; lambs are so passé.
Congrats—you’re obsessive-compulsive. Now that you’ve organized your DVD collection by last letter of the last name of the key grip for each film, it’s time for a little introspection this month. Think about what you can do that will break you out of your habits and comfort zone: climb some remote volcano in Alaska, run with wild stallions, or just leave the bottle of hand sanitizer at home. Living on the edge was never so thrilling.
Smoke ’em if you got ’em. This month you’re going to put a Phelpsian hit on that four-foot bong shaped like the Hamburger Helper. You’ll try to sell it to the tabloids to pay for your next stash and a bag of Chex mix the size of a hot-air balloon, but no one will buy. Put that creativity to use and sculpt that bust of Ronald McDonald out of cookie dough. You’ve been putting off since, like, forever.
Hair metal is back, or—as you think—it never left. Take this month to relish in your past: grab your rhinestone-encrusted, acid-washed denim vest circa 1986. Motley Crue just wrapped up their reunion tour and it’s your time to shine. Tease that hair with a 55-gallon drum of Aqua Net and crimp the hell of it. It’s an old look gone new. Of course, you still do your hair that way, so it’s just the vest that’s back.
Consider yourself the feline equivalent of the Horse Whisperer. Push for a holistic existence at home; be unashamed to place settings at the table for Miss Whiskers, Blinkie, and the twelve other cats that occasionally live with you. They are beings too and should be entitled to what you eat, specifically, Tuna Noodle Casserole. Your oneness will be evident to all, since you will have enough cat hair on you to clothe a village.
The Ides of March approaches. Be wary of backstabbing double-crossers this month, especially that bimbo friend, Misty. She totally had it out for you when you started dating Duke, so what he was her ex-husband. Back to the point, trust no one, not even your stylist, for a moment.
Your little angels are … neither little nor angelic. The visionary sees the last straw viciously snapping early in this moon phase—sweet Caleb and precious Uva decide to write obscenities all over your new Kate Spade clutch. Worse, they’re in Italian—the only evidence of that eight-week immersion course in Tuscany you sent them to. You’ll decide to hand over your progeny to Angelina, playing up your children’s hardship—rub a little dirt on their faces and tear their matching Banana Republic outfits. Unfortunately, you’re weary and mistakenly hand them over to that Angelina-look-a-like, the Octopulet Mom. Oh well … the more, the merrier.
The Visiting Visionary is a monthly column written by a different guest horoscopist each month. We’ll focus on a new topic every month so that our Visionary can foretell how it will affect each sign.