You’ve grown up with the ever-present unease that your parents will divorce and your mum will somehow marry 70s era Jeff Lynne from ELO. Jeff will wholeheartedly embrace the role of stepfather. He will be standing at your bedroom door, running his hand through his thick curls in exasperation and peering at you through his sunglasses while explaining he is doing his best.
This week, you jokingly ask a barista if it is possible to overdose on caffeine. You share a chuckle but then you break into convulsions, holding up the line.
Lucky Colour: Faded denim.
Lucky Song: The one that the woman from Luscious Jackson who doesn’t blink sings. You can hear the unrelenting eye contact in every beat.
So far nobody at the BBQ has laughed at your “Penis Colada” joke, Taurus. And the young woman at the convenience store DID judge you for buying anti-dandruff shampoo. You know how even Morrissey got over his “Morrissey” phase? Yeah.
Lucky Number: May as well count the stars, you dickhead.
Lucky Colour: Slightly off-white, but impossible to say exactly what.
You spent three days in the Ukraine in 1998 as part of a backpacking trip and you didn’t leave the hostel, except to buy a pack of cigarettes and a three-dollar bottle of wine. Therefore, you do not have a “unique and personal perspective” on events in the region.
Lately, Gemmy, I’ve been thinking about that night we sat in the living room, listening to Bowie. I was lying down quite close to you. Side A of Station to Station finished and I expected you to flip the record. Instead you slid your skirt up your leg, revealing your inner thigh. I was breathless with excitement. Then you picked up a stapler and stapled a bus ticket to your thigh, hissing with pain. I didn’t know you had a stapler.
Lucky Number: Rocky 3.
Lucky Movie: Anything with Nick Nolte, except 48 Hours and Another 48 hours.
The sculpted form of Cancer towers above most other signs. Vascular, kind, emotionally distant but not cold, Cancer is the slightly older boyfriend you never had. Cancer, from the wrong side of the tracks, but with a heart of gold and a dependable work ethic.
I passed you walking into the classroom and you made finger-guns at me and my day at the same time. I was the second hottest girl in school after that.
When we walked up to the top field with your .22 and you taught me to shoot, knocking those old coffee tins off that fence, I felt so alive and so excited. You gave me womanhood that day, when you lay so tenderly with me. All these years later, no lover has ever compared. Now I am old, but I still moisten at the memory of you.
Lucky Old-Timey Disease: Dropsy.
Unlucky Date: Avoid the Ides of March. Don’t take a date to this movie, the themes are too dense.
Oh Leo. A raincoat inside? That you insist on calling a “slicker”? Really? And when your mother hands you a photograph of your cousin’s daughter don’t grunt “How old is she?” like it would make it OK if she was 15 or whatever. Have some self-respect.
We hold ourselves to a certain standard. By doing so, we allow ourselves to aspire to greater heights, to strive for greatness itself. My mother gave my father a “Born to Fish, Forced to Work” t-shirt for his birthday and we all had a chuckle. While he held it up to show my sister’s de-facto, Dwayne, I looked at my mother’s face and she was mouthing “I hate you” at him while he wasn’t looking.
Lucky Colour: Sky-blue, especially sky-blue shorts with a salmon polo shirt and some deck shoes, you fucking prick.
Lucky Disappointment: The hybrid Italian/Spanish restaurant you like is closing and you can’t get those chorizo and thinly sliced potato pizzas anymore.
Look, no one is suggesting your great-grandfather wasn’t courageous when he stormed the beach at Gallipoli and shot and bayoneted all those Turks, but it was 1968 when he did it.
This week your boyfriend will want to rent another movie with subtitles. Later, while you’re sitting on the couch and he is toying with his topknot and commenting on how Hollywood just doesn’t understand the human condition, you will momentarily feel disgusted with yourself for ever letting him inside you.
Next week your dad will explain to you in frighteningly specific detail the types of things he did on those “business trips” in the mid 1980’s. He will then pour himself another drink and wordlessly hand you a faded Polaroid of a topless woman with a tattoo of a winged horse on her left breast.
Good stars for bargains, especially in antiques.
Lucky Furniture: Occasional Table.
Unlucky Furniture: Nesting Tables.
We drove around in your car and you passed me a cigarette and said “Don’t worry about those jerks.” You reached down and turned up “Burnin’ for You” by Blue Oyster Cult and gave the car some juice as you pulled away from the lights and it squealed a little. The wind blew through my hair and I tapped along with the music and felt better. The next day at school at 10:15 am exactly the main jerk had an aneurism, the best-looking girl gave me her number, and the third-best-looking girl gave me a hand-job. I looked out the window at the point of climax and your car roared past, leaving faint strains of “Burnin’ for You” in its wake.
Livin’ La Vida Libra, the sign that just won’t quit. I’d slap the dust off that thing seven nights a week, and twice on Sundays. Get out of my dreams and into my Billy Ocean tour t-shirt tomorrow morning.
Lucky Number: ½.
Lucky Ringtone: Factory default ringtone.
I sat in my room all day and listened to you in the living room, watching a movie and intermittently braying with laughter and bellowing with rage. After you left I ventured out and looked at the DVD case. It was a documentary on printing presses.
Scorpio, you never fail to disappoint. Your sister has the body of a jazz dancer and yet you sit there like a tub of cream cheese in the sun. Things weren’t necessarily better before you were dead inside, but you tended to enjoy immersing yourself in a television series more.
Remember when that guy poisoned the biscuits in an effort to extort money off the biscuit company? I wish you actually did like Monte Carlos for a while there; instead I watched you dip two Arrowroots with a thick layer of butter between them into your Kiss Army mug and bray with laughter when Sandra sneezed and shuddered as she had that sneezing orgasm disease that made the whole office uncomfortable. Except you.
Lucky Quip: I’ll have what she’s having!
Lucky Lottery Numbers: 13, 56, 12, 9, 32, 3, Supplementary – 14.
“Bring back planking,” Simone cried with good humour. I spat on the carpet and through gritted teeth I said “You shut up, Simone, you goddamn tramp.” Simone’s smile fell from her face and for a moment I almost felt bad. I turned the sound up on Antiques Roadshow as Simone muttered to herself.
Scrapbooking. This is about all you got to look forward to this week, Sagittarius. Pisces is having a better run; they bought a surprisingly well-fitting outfit at the op shop. Pleased with the purchase, they also bought a takeaway coffee. In the distance, a wolf howled.
David Byrne from Talking Heads sometimes looks really hurt—like someone said something really mean to him he wasn’t expecting. Pisces is the small glint of resistance in his eye that says “Your mean words can’t hurt me. I am David Byrne from Talking Heads and the things I feel and the things I say are valid and deserve to be treated as such.”
That’s right. I’m not even talking about your star sign anymore.
Lucky Simon Le Bon: With the beard, a little older, but before his head filled out too much.
Lucky Cheese: Blue cheese or what have you.
Please stop saying “I’ll be the daddy” whenever anyone asks you to do something.
This will be a lucky week for dumpster diving for Capricorns, with a possible treasure to put on the shelf next to your partially stained, empty Pet Sounds LP sleeve.
Oh, Capricorn. None of the other signs fill me with arousal and disgust the way you do.
Lucky Right-Wing Gary: Gary Sinese.
Fancy Idea: Cravat with a naked woman print.
There was a crying baby on the airplane and I watched Aquarius stand slowly, walk over and pass a delicate Aquarian hand across the baby’s forehead. Aquarius turned to the other passengers in the cabin and said “The meningitis is gone now.” The applause was spontaneous and universal.
Later, the rollercoaster was clanking and creaking up the slope of the track. It seemed incredibly steep. My breathing was getting a little shallow; the fear was setting in. Aquarius leaned over and said “I’m here.” I was reassured and when we plummeted down the other side I threw my hands in the air and screamed “Aquarius!”
Relaxed, content, and safe. This is how people feel in your presence, Aquarius. You are a natural leader, and in a situation where a leader is required, an Aquarian will be sought out. Your hair is soft and your body is hard where it matters. When you step upon the footpaths, they sigh with pleasure at your touch. If life is a getting served a meal at a drive-through window at a fast-food restaurant, Aquarius’s order never has anything missing.
You complete the Zodiac, but you complete me too. I remember the light catching your eyes, the wind picking up slightly, and your hair lifting from your face, and I thought “I could die right now, as there won’t be a moment as perfectly beautiful as this as long as I live.”
Answer to Life’s Questions: Aquarius.
Lucky Hotdog: One of those gourmet ones, but they do them cheaper for Aquarius.
The sights and smells of the market were almost overwhelming as Pisces moved through the crowd uncomfortably. The amulet was throbbing and growing warm to touch. Suddenly it became clear that the movement of the crowd wasn’t random, but steering Pisces towards a darkened alley. Pisces noticed there was a rope hanging just within reach, when suddenly from the left a man gestured excitedly, pointing away from the direction the crowd was pulling Pisces.
To jump for the rope, turn to page 43.
To follow the gesticulating man, turn to page 69.
Lucky Statement: I’m local to the WORLD, man.
Lucky Colour: The yellow Humphrey Bogart’s fingers would have been where the cigarette went.