Archive | Astro Matters

Banana Pancakes and Change

Today I slept until 11 am, which is the equivalent of 5 pm for an early bird like me. By the time I woke, I’d been downloaded with so much information that I knew it’d take the whole day to sort it out. After drinking some coffee, I realized the moon was void of course, which means my disconnect from time and space was right on cue. So I walked to one of the many overpriced but delightful restaurants that have cropped up in my neighborhood, ordered a real cocktail and huevos rancheros, and started to fill my notebook.

The truth is my notebook needs filling. I’ve emptied out so much recently—dreams that needed retiring, hopes that had been hung on the wrong coat hooks, habits that did more harm than good, safe spaces that weren’t safe anymore. And there are the many friends who’ve left the Earth lately. It’s a heartbreaking sort of housecleaning, letting go of all that, and I haven’t been the cheeriest cat lady on the block.

To be clear, I frequently am.

I know from experience that I’m right where I’m supposed to be. One of the advantages of not being young anymore is knowing that change is not only inevitable but okay. Good times are followed by bad times, which are followed by good times again–especially once you grow out of clinging to leaky rafts. Being a change-hating Crapicorn, I’m still trying to grow out of that. I’m not doing a great job of it, but I’m trying.

I keep flashing on a breakfast scene of about a decade ago. I was dating a guy from my hometown even though I’d been living in Brooklyn for more than 10 years. He was a big-nosed, big-shouldered, big-dicked musician who’d already fled New York, and was perched in a quiet neighborhood of Boston. He looked appealingly like a Founding Father and was remarkably steady in bed. I figured he’d traded in creative for cozy, and clamored for his maternal embrace. (Sexy male mommies are my Achilles’ heel.) Really, he was smart but stuck—yet another guy held hostage by his fury at his mother.

I was at loose ends, as I am now. I’d just broken up with a woman who was such a liar that I’d come to hate her mouth though I craved what it did to me, and I thought maybe I could climb into this hometown honey whenever I came back to Massachusetts. I was still trying to figuring out how to know my family of origin, so that was very often. Continue Reading →

Astrological PSA: Full-Frontal Mercury

Mercury retrograde ends today. I’d say amen except the ending of retrogrades are often exceptionally dramatic–chaotic, even–because everything that’s been stagnant comes crashing through the door. In this case, Mercury is conjuncting cathartic, take-no-prisoners Pluto, so I smell confrontations, ground-breaking legal decisions, and Dear Johns galore. We’ll be acquainted with what we’ve lost but also with what we can gain. Make no mistake: A lot will come to the surface this week, and when things go back to normal, it will be a new normal for sure. Strap on those boots!

The Arithmetic of Snow

Here on the East Coast we are in the midst of a good old-fashioned blizzard. I’m not sure if that’s the official word but the snow has been coming down for 15 hours; the sidewalk, stoops and street outside my apartment are covered in two feet of snow; and everything and everybody has been cancelled. That’s a blizzard even to this Masshole. (I’ve lived in Brooklyn for 23 years but once a Masshole, always a Masshole.)

I’m been the queen of preparation this round. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about living alone, it’s that gender coding is an ill-advised luxury; when you have to cook, shovel, clean, and fix everything from hems to technology to radiators yourself, it’s a bad call to get the vapors or cry caveman. Bundled in a wearable sleeping bag, face mask, and two scarves, it’s impossible to tell whether someone is a man, woman, non-binary gender person, or a “Revenant” bear, anyway.

So yesterday after reading distressing weather reports, I headed over to Red Hook Fairway, where I bought enough food to stock my refrigerator and freezer for two weeks (which is how long it’ll probably be before I’m able to safely drive Minerva again). I bought wonderful things: thick pork chops, lamb, dried apricots, pistachios and pecans, crushed tomatoes, ricotta, extra virgin olive oil, thick Greek yogurt, a roasted chicken, challah bread, a jug of organic cream, rosemary, mint, kale, and copperhead salmon. My enthusiasm was only mildly hampered by the fact that, even at 9 am, the store was clotted by Park Slopers who didn’t feel it appropriate to reign in their free-spirited children as the rest of us tripped over them. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy