I’m not really into astrology.
Every once in a while, a horoscope makes me chuckle—like the one I read a few months ago telling me that I was basically a d-bag. But as a card-carrying member of the cult of Jesus, I grew up recalling passages in the Bible prohibiting such witchcraftery under penalty of death or locusts or flames from above. (Of course, the Bible prohibits a lot of things…) In any case, I never really put too much faith in what the stars say about me.
But apparently the moon’s new and improved gravitational pull on the earth has messed up the astrological calendar. As a result, the zodiac system was recently expanded to include the original 13th Supreme—Ophuchicus, the serpent-bearer. (The original Babylonian zodiac had 13, not 12, signs. I’m guessing Ophuchicus was kicked out at some point for being too suggestively gay.) Most importantly, this game of astrological musical chairs also shifted the dates for the other zodiac signs, effectively forcing a lot of people to question their astrological identity.
For 31 years, I was a Gemini. I am now apparently a Taurus.
Here’s what the interwebs says about Geminis:
- Adaptable and versatile
- Communicative and witty
- Intellectual and eloquent
- Cunning and inquisitive
- Superficial and inconsistent
Describes me to a T, right? And now here’s what it says about Tauri:
- Patient and reliable
- Warmhearted and loving
- Persistent and determined
- Jealous and possessive
- Self-indulgent and greedy
This transition is going to be a pain. I suppose I could start acting more self-indulgent and greedy.