The year may begin in January, but it’s in the spring that we really begin to feel nature’s welcoming arms enveloping us anew in their gentle, fragrant, maternal embrace, signifying the start of yet another season of fruitfulness and fertility. As flowers begin to speckle the landscape with their color and songbirds start to regale us with their delightful tunes, it becomes self-evident that spring has sprung, thus beginning anew Mother Nature’s joyous and universal cycle of rebirth.
You may, dear Reader, inquire as to why I’m just now writing about this season of rebirth, when the days have been lengthening and brightening for many weeks now. Well, I live in San Francisco, and we don’t get spring, so I forgot. There, I said it. You happy now, Reader? Our weather goes from cold and rainy to cold and foggy, and if we’re lucky, there are two to three weeks in between where we can wear sandals without feeling like morons. So thanks for shoving your spring all up in my face, Reader. You think I don’t have feelings?
Happy birthday, Taurus. Maybe this is the year that you’ll finally get around to throwing yourself that party you’ve been thinking about. What doesn’t sound fabulous about inviting fifty of your closest friends over to get drunk and give you presents? But knowing how stubborn you are, you’ll probably insist that the party be held at a fancy wine bar, even though you know that your friends prefer margaritas. You always have to make it all about you, don’t you? There will be other birthdays, you know, and you can throw your snotty wine-and-cheese party next year. This year, give in to your friends’ demands and just get sloppy on your roof with a bottle of Cuervo and some frozen taquitos. I’m pretty sure it’s a law that May birthday-havers are obligated to have Mexican-themed fiestas. And after a night of drinking tequila, you’ll have so much dirt on your friends that they’ll be doing you favors for the entire rest of the year.
This month, you will learn that you can’t control which species experience the spring rebirth, and that some of those rebirths happen early and often. Your dual nature will be on full display this spring, as you oscillate between your desire for a beautifully verdant garden and your desire to kill every fluffy hopping parasite that dares enter your yard. You may find yourself sitting on the porch with a shotgun well into the night, as if you were protecting your garden’s virtue from being sullied by the motorcycle-driving loner down the street. Stay strong, Gemini. You may have a few casualties, and you may shed a few tears disposing of the remains of your fallen carrots and cabbage on the compost heap, but you will ultimately prevail, because bunnies are weak and stupid and you are strong and can buy poison.
Since you Cancers tend to be a little sensitive, I’ll put this as delicately as I can: you got fat this winter. You may not have noticed it, since you were wearing sweatpants and puffer jackets for six months, but living on a diet of egg nog, pecan pie, and holiday stuffing does not do great things for one’s figure. If it makes you feel better, most other people are fat, too. It happens every year. If you really want to get in shape before your Hamptons summer share begins, don’t bother with wimpy weight-loss methods like eating right or exercising—I can hook you up with a guy who sells tapeworms out of the back of his van. Very good price.
This year, you busted your warm-weather clothes out of storage, only to discover that every single piece was stretched, threadbare, ill-fitting, or in some other way distasteful. It’s okay, Leo. Do you know what I’m thinking? Makeover!!! Yes, it’s a perfect excuse to go shopping and outfit yourself with some fly threads that are deserving of your fierce and fiery personality. While you’re at it, why not be adventurous and try out that hair color you’re secretly convinced will look stunning on you? If you don’t strut your hot stuff, you’ll never find that summer romance that will inspire your bad poetry for the rest of the year. So, Leo, reinvent yourself this spring from top to bottom, but stay clear of any permanent cosmetic enhancements. Not that the Visiting Visionary disapproves of a little nip ’n’ tuck, but because you never know what next season’s fashion will bring. Butt implants are so 2008.
This spring, consider letting your natural obsessive tendencies run wild, and do the most thorough spring cleaning the world has ever seen. Seriously—throw out everything that’s not nailed down. Eliminate all your pantry staples and start over, clear out all the “fat pants” from your closet, get rid of your pets and hairy spouses, and see how little you can manage to live with. Except for that blouse—you might want to wear that again. Oh, and that book was a gift from your college roommate, Whatshername. Don’t toss that. And don’t throw away any old issues of Lucky; those trends might come back someday, and you’ll need to know what to wear. That Candy Land set from when you were six? You could totally replace those missing pieces and play it again. On second thought, Virgo, don’t throw anything away—ever, ever again. Keep it all, because it really could come in handy. Spring cleaning—or any form of cleaning, for that matter—is highly overrated anyway. The people on Hoarders don’t do it, and they seem to be doing fine.
Mother’s Day is coming up, Libra. This year, why not do something special for the old girl? You should probably start by calling her something nicer than “old girl,” but it’s your mother, so you decide. Moms don’t ask for much, you know … just the daily phone call, a grandchild every three to five years, a thoughtful holiday gift, a mention in your Academy Awards acceptance speech, your other kidney, and a call on Mother’s Day. Are those things really so hard? Come on, now. You’re big on empathy—think of how your mom feels when all you can muster up the energy to do is send her an e-card and a bunch of wilting tulips. I think you can do better. She may make you feel guilty for being an all-around disappointment, but let’s be honest … you probably deserve it.
Spring isn’t all about sunshine and rainbows, you know. With all that rebirth going on, there’s bound to be some death lurking around, too. You’re going to feel the brunt of that this month, when all of your favorite television shows go on hiatus for the summer. Woe is you! I know you can’t imagine pulling through the next few months without House, 30 Rock, The Office, CSI: Toledo, Getting Colonics With the Stars, and America’s Next Top Doorman, but you must, Scorpio, you must. I can’t lie to you: your intense loyalty to television will make this even harder. Networks are all the same; they’ll throw some crappy summer replacement series at you and expect you to love them and watch them just like your old shows, even though they’re Just. Not. The. Same. But try to be strong, Scorpio, for ’tis a long time until fall-sweeps week.
One of the things a Sag needs most of all is independence, so let me give you some personal advice: you really have to dump that weirdo you’ve been dating. All your friends have been talking about how you’re too good for that lameball, anyway. Think about all the times he’s disappointed you. Think about the lame Christmas gift he got you last year. And have you noticed that the clothes you pick up off the floor for him seem to be getting bigger and bigger? You’d think that someone dating a fine specimen such as yourself would hit the gym once in a while, but I guess he thinks he can just let himself go. I hear there are a lot of people out there just waiting for you to break it off so they can make a move on you. It’s spring, after all—what’s a more perfect accessory than a hot new lover?
Aren’t spring weddings beautiful? The hope and promise of the season are symbolized by the happy couple who vow to weather life’s storms together, for better or for worse. That is, until the groom smashes cake in the bride’s face, which she specifically asked him not to do. And the maid of honor gives a jealous drunken toast in which she reveals that the bride thinks she’s “settling.” And then Great-Grandma won’t stop asking all the non-white guests at the wedding to please fetch her another glass of sherry. Ain’t love grand? Since you’re patient, Capricorn, you’ll probably be called on to mediate the many disasters that will befall this year’s crop of spring weddings. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make a few bucks on the side betting on which of the bridesmaids will be the first to cry, or whether the marriage will last longer than it takes to pay off the wedding itself. Just be discreet about it.
Da DUM. Da Dum. DaDUMdaDUMdaDUMdaDUM—EEEEEK! The eighteen-year-old sons, daughters, cousins, and grandchildren of everyone you’ve ever known can smell blood in the water, and they will be stalking you this month, besieging you with invitations to their graduation parties. Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Aquarius: “Isn’t this just a thinly veiled request for cash?” Yes, Aquarius, it is. And you’ll get at least ten of them. You’ll have to go, too, to save face with all those relatives and coworkers you don’t really care about, and you’ll have to pretend that graduating from high school is some big accomplishment, even though millions of kids do it every year, many without even knowing how to read. When you’re deciding which parties to attend, I recommend you judge on the basis of the honoree’s prospective college. Kids going to elite Ivy League schools are smart and probably have family money, so they don’t need your help. Kids going to big state schools will just spend your gift money on torso paint and malt liquor. Give gifts to the kids who will be putting themselves through well-priced programs at regional colleges. But make sure they know how to read first.
I know that every year you wonder what the deal with Memorial Day is. Did our veterans really fight and die so that we could eat heavily processed meat products? I don’t believe it. When those brave men were fighting in the trenches for our freedom, I have to believe they were thinking about something less disgusting than a hot dog, which in my book is the symbol of everything that’s wrong with America. But anyhoo! You’re going to need your famous adaptability, because this year’s Memorial Day barbecue is going to make you wish you were in those trenches. Screaming children, screaming in-laws, and chalky, charred food … distract yourself from the mayhem by thinking about something more pleasant, like the hundreds of cows that died for your single hamburger. Good luck with that, Pisces. And when that ill-behaved brat at the party manages to squirt ketchup all over your new white pants, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
This month, practice keeping your temper under control, because it’s going to come in handy. Every mom pretends that she loves it when her kids are out of school for the summer, but we all know the truth: you’re just counting down the days until the little monkeys get to go back to doing long division and diagramming sentences. No one wants to spend the whole summer scraping Popsicle residue off the refrigerator and cleaning jars of dead lightning bugs out from under the beds. Come July, that year-round-school idea will start to look pretty darn good. It may be too late to save this summer, but here’s what you’ll do next year: Once a week, go into your child’s bookbag when he’s asleep, and pull out a few pieces of homework. Transpose numbers on the arithmetic sheets, change punctuation marks in the grammar workbook, and when you see something really important-looking, just throw it away. Your kid will learn some valuable lessons about personal responsibility in summer school, and you’ll have that time to yourself to watch your stories in peace.
Allison Ford is a staff writer at DivineCaroline, a candy aficionado, and a lover of fabulously improbable shoes. She isn’t doing half-bad for someone with a liberal arts education, but very much regrets not becoming a banker, because then she’d be rich, and, as far as she knows, rich people don’t have problems. Allison is currently saving up for a journey to the United Kingdom, in search of the mythical Cadbury Creme Egg McFlurry. She works for tips.
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.