But I’ve only recently come to realize that there is something out of balance in my Gemini love of words. People often forget that Mercury is not only associated with Gemini; Mercury also rules Virgo. And as a Pisces Sun and a double-Gemini, I am and have for most of my life been profoundly uncomfortable with Virgo. Lately the most obvious example of this imbalance has been my GRE prep. I go through my Barron’s book for a good amount every day. I am very good at reading comprehension. I can do synonyms and antonyms. I have full confidence that I will write the shit out of an analytical essay. But I see something like How many sides does a polygon have if the measure of each interior angle is 8 times the measure of each exterior angle? and my eyes cross and I start thinking about this. It’s not like I haven’t been devoting equal study time to both sections. In fact, I’ve been devoting MORE time to math than to verbal. My brain literally rejects math like a bad kidney. It was the same when I took my SAT in high school: I got a perfect verbal score, but an abysmally low “my dog could probably guess and still score higher than I did” math score, so taken on its own separate from my grades and extracurricular activities, I appeared to be completely unintelligent. (I solved that problem by attending a college that didn’t factor SAT score into the admissions process.) Gemini is words, but Virgo is numbers. Gemini likes to free associate; Virgo likes to calculate. Gemini likes to reason abstractly and pull all kinds of half-remembered things they saw in documentaries or heard on NPR into their arguments; Virgo wants empirical data and a clearly annotated bibliography. Mercury rules all of these things, simultaneously.

Because I am literally incapable of keeping my space tidy for more than a week and because I would rather hit myself in the face with a brick than police my eating, I decided that one major way I would embrace my inner Virgo this year is to dispel this lifelong notion that I am bad at math, that girls are bad at math, that creative people are bad at math, that math is just not something I will ever have a need for in my life ever again. As this entails melting away decades of social conditioning and anxiety issues, it kind of feels like my brain is a Rubix cube and I took it and just went Krrrrrrkkkk! Suffice it to say it’s been kind of rough, and I have cried. More than once. Less than five times, but definitely closer to three times than one time. (Do that math.)

“You didn’t always hate math,” my mother told me several months ago when I started my post-bac. “When you were in second grade or so, you said to me, ‘Mommy, I love numbers.’” “Really?” I asked, incredulous. “You did,” my mother insisted. “And I said, ‘Oh, so did I!’ because I was awful at math but I didn’t want to discourage you or reinforce the idea that girls were bad at math.” In truth, I want to love numbers. Because from hereon out, I need numbers. The field I’m hoping to enter is becoming quickly and  increasingly interdisciplinary. It’s not enough anymore to read a bunch of Freud and say, “I’m done.” Understanding the brain by conducting repeated trials, and ultimately crunching a shit ton of data with as little bias as possible, is one of the most compelling ways we can actually make what was once totally abstract speculation on the human condition into something tangible and accessible. I understand how huge this is in a really holistic liberal-arts kind of way, but that’s not all I want to do- I  want to be an active part of it.

I’ve sort of warmed to the task of embracing my inner Virgo, because I’ve realized that Virgo, in spite of all its curmudgeonly stereotypes, has something I really want: a grain of truth. Or, to be even more technical, I want validity and reliability. Certainly within astrology, that’s difficult to find- which is why I have so, so, SO much appreciation for the work that the Gauquelins did, in showing that there is some consistent, observable evidence as to why astrologers make the claims they do. And while one of the most appealing things about astrology is that its subjectivity can give way to self-awareness and better intuition, to eschew objectivity is to eschew one of the most basic ideas about the discipline- that in our natal charts, we embody all signs and all planets. Continuing to believe that I am bad at math, that I couldn’t be a scientist, that I am all verbal and no quantitative reasoning, would personally deprive me of something vital and would in the long run make me unable to appreciate those qualities in others.

Something I also hadn’t considered until recently was that my Part of Fortune falls in Virgo, and turns my Sun-Moon-Uranus T-square into a grand mutable cross. While I’m not exactly sure what that means (and input is appreciated), I think it’s safe to conjecture that developing a more scientific and focused way of thinking is probably one of the best (and most lucrative) things I can do to quiet my perpetually anxious mind. Interesting- not meditation, which is so often prescribed both for Pisces and for Geminis (Pisces because they tend to be so good at it, and Geminis because they tend to be so bad at it). Not meditation, but being able to look at a difficult problem and calmly and immediately think, “I can figure this out, and I can explain how,” and do it- whether it’s math, or an experimental design, or a very lengthy paper that involves technical language, or something else entirely.

Which side of Mercury do you tend to prefer? Why do you think that is? How can you balance it?

1) Change your face.

Transits to Venus in general can often involve changes in one’s appearance. Make-up is very Neptunian. It is not as drastic as plastic surgery, and it can be wiped away. But when Lilith conjoins Neptune, it is not subtle. Indeed, the combination of Neptune and Lilith transiting one’s Venus hearkens back to a time when wearing make-up became a political statement, when suddenly it ceased to be used as a marker of women’s sexual status. Suddenly, it wasn’t easily determined who was pure and who was a whore. Fear of make-up is still very widespread. Some women “don’t want to mess around with all that junk,” but they also have entirely derogatory things to say about women who do. A lot of men claim they prefer “natural”-looking women, even though they don’t really know what a full face of make-up can actually look like.

Use make-up to change your face very dramatically. (If anyone needs astrologer make-up cred assurance, Michael Lutin has publicly lauded my make-up artist abilities. AND WHAT.) Before beginning, cover your eyelids with a thin layer of eye primer so that make-up will adhere. You will want it to adhere. With a soft rounded eyeshadow brush, blend a light brown shadow over the entire lid up to just under the brows. Then use a slightly pointed eyeshadow brush to blend a darker brown shadow into the crease between the eyelid and the brow. Use the soft rounded brush to apply a cream-colored shadow under the brows, blending downward into the light brown, and to the inner corners of the eye. Dip a sponge-tipped eyeshadow brush liberally in black eyeshadow and draw a line on the outer corner of the upper lashline and a curve from the outer corner of the eye up to the middle of the crease, creating an upside-down number 7. Then fill in the space inside the 7. Take the soft rounded brush and blend, blend, blend, blend, blend. Repeat another time. Always blend. Neptune abhors a clean line. Now line your top and bottom lashlines with a black pencil eyeliner. You will want this to be visible and close to your top lashline because it will help guide the liquid eyeliner that comes next. Oh yes. I went there. Make sure your hand is steady. Then, starting from the outer corner of your eye, trace liquid liner over the pencil liner already on your lashline. Once you have done that, extend the line into a little curl or cat eye less then half an inch past the outer corner of the eye. If you mess up, just use a baby wipe to take it off and try again. It’s make-up, not a nuclear explosion. Now take black mascara and holding the wand vertically, gently wave it across your lashes from side to side (it’s okay if they look clumpy), and then turn the brush horizontally to even out. Apply mascara to bottom lashes by holding the wand horizontally and making a gentle side to side motion, like brushing your teeth. Use a fantail brush or a baby wipe to clean up any excess that’s fallen on your face.

When you are finished, it should look like this:

Typically when your eyes are this dramatic you would keep your cheeks softly bronzed and your lips nude or sheer. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Use whatever color on your lips you want. You’re also not technically “supposed” to wear this kind of make-up during the day, but this time, wear it during the day. If anyone says you don’t need all that make-up, reply with, “I don’t need it. I want it.” If anyone asks who you’re trying to impress or tells you that you look slutty, tell them to go fuck themselves.

2) Meditate on the “monster husband.”

According to the Aarne-Thompson index of fairy tales and folklore, type 425C falls into the category known as “monster as husband,” in which the young female protagonist is chosen as a bride to a monster, who is either invisible or in a hideous beast form, for whom she must break a spell or accomplish a task in order to restore him to human form. Familiar stories that fall into this category are the myth of Psyche and Eros, Beauty and the Beast, and the Swedish fairy tale of Prince Hat. Some common psychoanalytic interpretations of these stories involve female sexual awakening as symbolized by a “bestial” husband, which becomes integrated into the girl’s adult identity with the husband’s transformation back to human form. Others suggest that anthropologically, they reflect a revulsion of marriage, or at least the kind of marriages that were typical at the time of the stories’ origins. It is interesting that in many of these stories, there is something special or unusual about the girl and why she is chosen instead of her sisters. Usually it has to do with her intellect, or her curiosity, or an extraordinary depth. It is these qualities that inspire her to overcome her initial revulsion and appreciate and love her monster husband, and that make her privy to intimacy that is beyond the scope of human marriage. These girls need not feel like freaks. Indeed, marriage with an ordinary man would not make them happy. Their satisfaction requires something that is simultaneously divine and terrifying. Think about it.

3) Listen to Kate Bush.

Well, unless you hate Kate Bush. I used to. Then one day I listened to her again and suddenly I got why she is amazing. Listen until you have a similar epiphany. Just do it.

4) Take a bath, but not the way you normally do.

Water and baths are clearly Neptunian, and for difficult Neptune transits to any planet, taking as many baths as humanly possible is highly beneficial. For this bath, add one or two cups of apple cider vinegar to your bath water. Apple cider vinegar is very cleansing and pulls a lot of toxins out of the skin. You know who uses apple cider vinegar for everything? Witches and farmers. Light a candle by the bathtub and shut out the light and lock the door. Don’t submerge yourself completely in apple cider vinegar bath water because the vinegar will dry out your hair and strip it of necessary oil. Do, however, use a scrub to exfoliate your entire body. Hard. And always towards the heart. Rinse off the scrub and stay in the bathtub. Now you are going to bring Lilith into the tub with you. Take deep breaths. But not deep cleansing yoga breaths. Keep your mouth open. Heave. Pant. Growl. Gnash your teeth. Splash. Gently lift your hips several inches above the bathtub floor and bring them down hard to make a huge motherfucking splash. Not hard enough to break your tailbone, just enough to splash. Do not be calm. Heave and growl and maybe even scream or cry and splash. Make a mess. When you feel sufficiently splashed out, drain the bath water and pat yourself dry. Look in the mirror. What you see will surprise you. Smile at it. Blow out the candle. Stay in the dark for a few moments and just pay attention to what it feels like. (Optional: chant “bloody Mary” until you get scared and have to turn the light on.)

5) Make up your own ritual and do it.

What potently combines Venus, Neptune and Lilith and doesn’t hurt anybody? (It almost sounds like a joke, doesn’t it?) No, but seriously. If you can think of it, do it. And leave me a comment telling me what it is. (Or the punchline of the putative joke, if you can think of one.)

For me, I feel a double imperative to celebrate my personal Moon Day, and not just because my Moon’s in Gemini. (Geddit? Oh God, I am my own party.) My Moon happens to be exactly conjoining my Ascendant, which represents the beginning of a cycle in the natural zodiacal wheel. A personal new year that’s activated at the very beginning of your chart is nothing to sneeze at. Neither is the fact that I have two important astrological signifiers of the body deeply connected to one another- which for better or worse is kind of synonymous with the feminine.

My appearance has long been a subject of serious angst, played out beautifully by my 1st and 10th House cusps. The 1st House cusp has the Moon, and Vesta. The 10th House cusp has Venus and Pallas Athena. One, the one more involved with how I want to appear in a way that will advance me in my career, presents as icy and intimidating, smart and detached; the other, the one more closely associated with physically how I look, is soft and inviting. It’s somewhat confusing to others. For a long time it was also confusing to me. Now it’s less so, and I feel no need to force my body into a shape it can’t be, or to adjust my temperament or intellect to what people imagine should match my body. To me, femininity means being any and all qualities as the need or desire arises.

So to present you with some practical slice-of-life astrology, today on my personal Moon day, I did something really appropriate. I got a haircut. And not just a trim- like a haircut haircut. I haven’t had one of those in a long time, partly (and probably subconsciously) because there is a certain kind of safety in long hair. Even when it grows past the point of good health or being able to style effectively, people will still marvel at how long it is. Safety. Very Moon-like. Also, hair is time. If you grow your hair out long enough, all the memories of all the joy you’ve experienced and all the hurts you’ve suffered remain in your hair, adding to the weight. Also, hair is family and lineage. One reason head-shaving is a prominent rite of passage in so many traditions is because it represents a severing of family bonds, and restarting life with an identity separate from your family and where you came from. Also very Moon-like.

For me it’s quite short. It’s still long enough by normal standards, and it’s not even the shortest I’ve ever had it, but it’s a steep departure from how long my hair usually is. But it works. It is a combination of what I need (to make the ends healthy, to give it better shape and volume) and what I want (something that sort of evokes all the terrible horror films from the 70′s I love so much but still makes me look pretty grown-up. And tall.). Which is totally what the Moon should give you if you access it the right way and listen to yourself- really, really listen.

I think everyone should celebrate their personal Moon day. But mostly I just wanted to blog about how pretty I look. Legitimate celebration of Moon day for the win.

Lucy on her personal Moon day, June 9 2010

What do you need? What do you want? Are they the same?

My blog is not predictive, nor does it deal with mundane events. It deals with how astrology affects people- specifically one person, me. This is partly because I don’t feel I have the adequate abilities in mundane astrology, and partly because doing mundane astrology would turn me into a paranoid freak. And it’s also because I’m very much in favor of dealing with the things that are explicitly in your control, because certain events are for the most part out of our control, and it only fosters guilt, frustration and despondency to worry constantly about how we could be part of the problem because we’re not singlehandedly rushing in to stop it. Even without looking at World At Large events, I think a lot of people are going to find that Uranus’ entry into Aries will bring huge personal changes, significantly enough for enough people that we will see ripples of collective change. When I think about the typical associations of Uranus and of Aries, I immediately think of difference, of initiation, of independence, of high electricity. There is simply no context for what we were doing before, and as such, wherever Uranus affects our natal charts is going to be strikingly different from now on. Like I said- there’s no going back.

Uranus is no longer in my 10th House. It feels like such a relief to add “Uranus is no longer in my 10th House” to my catalogue of statements of relieved finality, like “I don’t have to take precalculus anymore,” or “I am no longer a virgin.” (Incidentally, transiting Uranus was on my natal Venus when I lost my virginity. Okay, okay, Dr. Freud, you win.) Because seriously, having a full 10th House natally is hard enough, but try having it constantly electro-shocked by Uranus for about nine years. Even though I’ve always been and will probably always be preoccupied with achievement, it was never just a pedestrian “get good grades, get into college, get job, rinse, repeat” kind of preoccupation. For me, more than just doing well, it’s always been imperative that I am DIFFERENT from everyone else. That I am NOTICED by teachers and professors and bosses and superiors. That I am EXCEPTIONAL because I am GOOD AT EVERYTHING. And Uranus transiting through my 10th House has over the years both accelerated and challenged that impulse. In many ways that’s been a good thing, such as clarifying for myself that while I’m good at making art and I enjoy consuming art, it’s not my whole identity, and that I don’t actually want to be a career artist, and that art-making serves a different, more private function for me now than I once thought it would, and that that realization doesn’t have to be the jarring soul annihilation that every other artist I know who cannot be friends with you if you are not also an artist seems to think it is.  But on the other hand, it has at times been slightly disorienting to realize that over the years I’ve accumulated so much information and don’t always know what to do with it. The teetering between everyone publicly marveling at “ZOMG LUCY HOW ARE YOU LIKE SO SMART AND HAVE DONE ALL THIS STUFF” and me privately freaking out because “ZOMG I LIKE TOO MANY THINGS AND I’M NOT GOING TO HAVE A CAREER BECAUSE I CAN’T FOCUS I’M GOING TO GO LIVE IN THE WOODS” has been an incredible psychic drain. But now it’s over. Last July when Uranus went retrograde, I made the decision to go to grad school and take all the necessary prerequisites for the programs that interested me. It was a really impulsive way to start doing something that most people prepare for before they’re even halfway through college, but I just did it. I said fuck it.

And even though I’m doing well in all my prereqs, and discovering I have an affinity for disciplines I never even touched in college, and making really good connections, as the time to actually apply to graduate school looms closer, I am not gonna lie- I’m getting really nervous. Really, really nervous. I mean, of course I am, right? It’s a huge workload and commitment. But this is what I’ve become used to doing. I throw myself into something, only to wonder if maybe there is more and better in some other discipline. I agonize over whether becoming a psychologist will make me too “square,” and if I will still be able to maybe go to Burning Man one day or get an astrology book published or just wear my giant magenta feather earrings and still be taken seriously in the academic community. I worry that if I ever actually become famous, it won’t be for any one thing, that I’ll end up having to be a “personality,” like that lady with the giant glasses who was in all the Old Navy commercials for a while. (Who was that, anyway?)

Uranus loves anxiety and restlessness. I don’t, especially not in my high-achieving 10th House comfort zone. But it’s not there anymore. So I take this to mean that as I said above, there is no going back. I have made a decision, and if I stop and really think about it, I can be confident that it is the right decision. And not only is it the right decision, but the incredible anxiety I’ve felt regarding achievement can finally start melting away. I’ve also noticed that since it left my 10th House, Uranus has also taken on a different shade in my 11th House. Now that I’m more focused in a career path that requires commitment and collaboration, and going further with astrology, and possibly getting ready to relocate, I feel more prepared and open to being around people that are better-suited to me, and to let go of the ones that aren’t. And I’m doing better at attracting those kinds of people to me in recent months. That is very different for me. But this is how it is now, and I want to go forward with how it is going to be instead of clinging to what it once was- even though I didn’t really like that too much.

So even though I had a panic attack last night (although I’m sure part of it had to do with the fact that I had an exam this morning), and even though I acknowledge that my anxiety is totally valid and that I need not chastise myself for what I’m actually feeling, I’ve taken a deep breath and I’m ready to embrace Uranus in Aries. I’m ready to stop using my own curiosity to undercut what I’ve accomplished. I’m ready to do interesting, dynamic and beneficial work. I’m ready to stop depending on people who don’t actually serve me and introduce people into my life who stimulate me. I think I want to get a different haircut.

The transit and the weather may look like end times. But it’s really not end times after all. It’s a beginning.

I’m positive I’m not the only one who feels that this has been a very tough month. Not just because “April is the cruelest month.” (Thanks, T.S. Eliot.) A LOT of shit went down in the past couple of weeks, and it’s left a lot of people feeling really raw. The culmination of all the retrogrades and Chiron’s ingress into Pisces pulls up a lot of old wounds, of things you thought you were done with a long time ago, and makes them relevant again. The challenge is not just to understand and accept why they’ve become relevant again, but to deal with them in a different way so that next time (because inevitably, there will be a next time) they don’t hurt as bad. That’s definitely been the case with me, and more so because some of the biggest events have hit my natal chart really closely and really hard, some in painfully predictable ways and some in ways I simply wasn’t expecting, but all related to the same theme. And I don’t know which is worse.

First, there was Pluto’s retrograde. I don’t remember what exactly I was looking for, but on that exact date I looked at my natal chart and made a really harrowing discovery- transiting Vesta had just gone direct on my IC, turning my Miss Julie Complex into a grand fixed cross. (For those unfamiliar, that’s a T-square between Venus and Pallas Athena in Aquarius on my MC with Mars in Scorpio on one side and Chiron and Juno in Taurus on the other side.) The Miss Julie Complex has been the bane of my existence for a long time, so to have something there, anything there, was kind of a jolt. And Pluto is still in my 7th House on my natal Neptune, but thanks to a recent reading from Marina of Funk Astrology I discovered that there is a reason I felt so affected by transiting Pluto- because my natal Neptune actually makes a T-square with my Osculating Black Moon Lilith and my asteroid Lilith, which transiting Pluto is piggybacking on. Then transiting Mercury first opposed my natal Pluto, and when it went retrograde on the 17th, it was opposing my natal Saturn, so you can imagine the kinds of conversations and arguments and misunderstandings I’ve been having all month. FUN. And then there’s Saturn’s return to Virgo- this we knew about, but on Monday Saturn and Uranus exactly opposed one another again, reallyreallyreally close to my natal Sun and Mercury, which they had done previously on November 8, 2008, on February 5, 2009, and on September 15, 2009- so all the issues from those dates flared up again as if they’d never gone away.

That’s a lot. But what does all this mean?

Well, first of all, it means being butthurt and getting frustrated enough to cry. (And I do. Trust me.) Second of all, it reinforces the difficulty I have with seemingly incompatible nuances of my personality. Per Marina’s reading, my T-square between Neptune, Osculating Black Moon Lilith and asteroid Lilith is hugely creative and spiritual, and insanely romantic, seeking some kind of otherworldly love that most humans can’t possibly measure up to. If I let myself admit it, it’s true, I do want that. This idea sits nicely in my Miss Julie Complex with Chiron and Juno, which are enfolded deep in my 12th House, and with good reason- I know I have a lot of baggage around what I expect a “normal” relationship should be, and I’ve learned that the kind of love I eventually want will either take A LOT of doing, or will simply be impossible. The thing is, most people who also desire spiritual otherworldly enduring love conflate that with total lack of boundaries and space, with possessiveness, and with totally unrealistic expectations. That is not what I want. (I mean, after all, I have Venus in Aquarius at the top of my chart. I do actually know the difference between “romantic” and “stalker,” and most things that make other women go “Awwww!” make me go “Ewwww!”) But that is what I get when I put out inklings of what it is that I really want, because many people just can’t tell the difference. So most of the time, I don’t get what it is I actually want. Or I only THINK that I am, because it’s either so fleeting, or literally just someone pretending or being insincere. And it’s massively, massively frustrating.

Recalling the dates of the previous Saturn-Uranus oppositions, they were all periods in which this imbalance was pretty pronounced and causing a great deal of stress in my life. In November of 2008, I’d just been dumped on by Guy #682,496 who had acted all clingy and doe-eyed and romantic but was actually using me to cheat on his girlfriend, so that had me feeling pretty low. In February of last year, I was super-excited about The Philosopher (God, I haven’t typed those words in AGES, isn’t that freeing?), but it wouldn’t be long before I realized I was the only one in that relationship, so that sucked. And this past September, I decided, “I’m in school now, I’m working towards a goal, I’m not going to be with ANYONE, I can be an automaton and I’m FINE with that.” Until I wasn’t. That sucked as well. None of these situations work for me. So I’m realizing, via transit, that something has to adjust.

It’s hard to adjust, though, when my perception of myself in relationships is so fixed- literally, a grand fixed fucking cross. And also, when transiting Saturn falls in your 5th House, it’s not so easy to just pursue your own pleasure. The consequences of those pursuits loom really heavy in the not-so-far-off distance. Since transiting Saturn has been in my 5th House, I’ve been in a few situations that would involve taking huge sexual risks- but every time, the cartoon angel on my right shoulder pops up and says, “But Lucy, what is this TEACHING you? How is this CONSTRUCTIVE?” What should be a house of wild abandon (especially at my age) becomes a house of sobriety. Which ISN’T FUN. OR HELPFUL. AND MAKES ME HATE MYSELF.

I’m always harping on internal locus of control, and how I am extremely opposed to the idea that we can’t affect our own destinies, even with knowledge of astrology. While I certainly believe that I do spend a lot of time trying to control my own life (perhaps an inordinate amount of time, even), I often find myself upset that some of the same things keep “happening” to me- that I don’t proactively make a point to derail a compulsive pattern even as I can see it playing out. So I’m not going to do that anymore. It’s going to be really difficult, and a lot of work, and not always fun. But it will be better than always feeling disappointed, or being made to feel like my needs and desires are weird.

There are a few ways I have been going about correcting this problem, and ultimately attempting to connect better to my needs and integrate what society would like to have me think are totally disparate sides of myself. (If you are the TMI police, you may want to leave now.)

1) Sex with myself. Yes, that’s right. Double-clicking the mouse. Because if it’s true that I’m not going to find exactly what it is that I want in a person right away, it’s not going to help my self-esteem to moan about there not being anyone. But it makes sense. I’m the only one who really knows what it is I need right now, so I shouldn’t deprive myself or wait for someone else to do it. If there is one thing I legitimately hate about myself (legitimately!) it’s that I’ve become so resourceful in so many areas of my life- particularly professionally- but I always have to wait for someone else to validate me, that I can’t even fucking admit that I look pretty most of the time. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

2) Sex with people who actually WANT to have sex with me. Sounds like a no-brainer, right? It’s actually not. A lot of people I’ve been involved with only have sex because they think they’re supposed to, that it makes them normal, not because they really want to. After years of “this makes me normal” sex, it is actually kind of a really mind-blowing experience to have “let’s fucking DO THIS” sex. (To wit: D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Different kind of heroine, not like Miss Julie, who I will write about one day, but not here, not yet.)

3) Being frank about this. I’ve been having an e-mail exchange with Stephanie Gailing recently about some of the subtleties of Vesta. We are both unsatisfied with the currently accepted notion of Vesta as relating to “sacred sexuality” and “service,” both terms that are kind of hegemonic, and we think it could go a little further than that. We also acknowledge that since we both have pretty Pisces-and-Neptune-heavy charts, we conflate the idea of “service” with “total psychic and emotional self-immolation.” (We also want to open the discussion up to people who may have different relationships to the asteroid, because seriously, we’re curious.) But with transiting Vesta activating my Miss Julie Complex the way it is, I do see an opportunity for “service.” As I said above, I strongly doubt that I am the only woman who struggles with merging romantic ideals with independence, or with what she wants vs. what she’s been made to think she wants. And as much as the details of my own sex life are private (and I do plan to keep it that way, I’m not about to turn into The Washingtonienne), the discussion about reconciling seemingly contradictory needs and desires and establishing boundaries while still having your needs met, especially for women, needs to be very public.

Quite a post for a Full Moon day, huh?

Although fittingly, I actually do feel much better getting it written down, instead of just stewing in it and making myself miserable. I hope you do too, vicariously. How has this month treated you?

As is probably the case at most schools, the one I am attending right now is woefully understocked when it comes to computer labs. When you go into the library to wait for a computer, you had better have something else to do while you wait, because you will be waiting a LONG time. You’ll sit there and read for another class, delete some text messages, eat your package of Oreo Cakesters- and of course, glance around at the students who were lucky enough to have found computers before you. Two people, at most three, are actually doing work. The girl who is always watching episodes of Chuck and screaming laughing, oblivious to the fact that she’s in a library, is there doing her thing. Everyone else is playing Farmville. Minutes go by. More people show up, waiting. Half an hour goes by. Still more people join the line. You close your eyes. You open your eyes, and you find you are covered with a thin film of cobwebs. You look around. It appears that everyone has been waiting for about five decades, and there are still no available computers. You stretch a little, retouch your lipstick. Finally, one of the Farmville addicts gets up, leaving a computer free- but does the next person on line actually take it? Of course not. Even though it has been nearly half a century and you have all considerably aged and atrophied, instead of jumping up and running to the next available computer like it’s a mirage in the desert, the next person and the one directly after her (because it is always inevitably girls who do this, but that’s a whole other blog post) look at each other and have the following exchange: “You take it.” “Oh no, you take it.” “No, no, you were here before me.” “No, I think you were here before me, go ahead.” “Are you sure? You should go.” “No, no, you look like you have a lot to do.” “Well- oh, but I couldn’t, you take it.” This is usually the point at which, if you’re me, you scream, “OH MY GOD FOR FUCK’S SAKE” and I get up and I take the computer that they’re hemming and hawing over, even if it’s not actually my turn for about four more people. Not because I’m selfish or inconsiderate, just because I want them to stop. And so does everyone else, because never once have I gotten into a full-on confrontation with anyone when I’ve done this. The computer is occupied. They snoozed, they lost. Order is restored.

Sort of like the imminent T-square, no?

Everyone seems to like Saturn in Libra, but I have misgivings about Saturn in Libra, especially since it’s been retrograde. On the upside, by itself, Saturn in Libra is exalted: it’s all about fairness, balance in relationships, everyone getting exactly what is coming to them- and when Saturn is retrograde, in order to get all the fruits of being exalted in Libra, you’ve really got to take apart the whole thing and rebuild, which is sometimes the only way to fix something for good. BY ITSELF. Saturn in Libra right now is not by itself, though. Saturn in Libra is squared by Pluto in Capricorn, which carries more serious and fated implications. With Pluto as the backdrop, Saturn in Libra to me feels… trivialized somehow, more like two girls going back and forth over a computer they’re both waiting for. “You take it.” “Oh no, you take it.” When Saturn was in Virgo, I feel like even when people I spoke to were unsure about what to do next, they thought things through in a practical way and took small steps that ultimately ended with a concrete plan for the future, if not an actual materialized outcome. But with Saturn in Libra, the same vacillating over the computer happens, except in a much more dangerous way. Pluto in Capricorn relates to enormous shifts in authority and in power struggles; squaring Saturn in Libra, in people’s personal lives and in the news alike, you see a lot of, “You decide what to do.” “No, you.” “No, you, I don’t know what to do.” “I don’t know what to do either.” “So let’s ask someone else.” “But we’d be bothering them.” “So what do we do?” “I don’t know.”

I find this aspect of Libran thinking dangerous. It’s dangerous in this context because Pluto just does not have time for that kind of diplomacy. That’s part of why, I believe, the Saturn-Pluto square feels so incredibly heavy, and why for my part I’m a little relieved that Saturn will make one last dip into Virgo for a bit. Our attempts to structure and restructure elements of our lives (Saturn) through sweetness and light and niceness and fairness (Libra) can be ripped apart at any second by things that are completely out of our control (Pluto). If we waited too long to make a decision for fear of hurting someone else’s feelings, we’ll all be left particularly vulnerable in the wake of Pluto because we will literally have nothing to work with. We were too busy making sure that everyone else was okay.

I was initially very nervous about the imminent T-square, as I’m sure a lot of people are. On the downside, explosive shit could happen. Literally explosive. But thinking about it again, I actually feel somewhat more excited about Uranus entering Aries and locking in the T-square, because it is such a different energy than the Saturn-Pluto square on its own. If Pluto is inevitable transformation, Uranus in Aries is a swift, original, dynamic change. It’s someone deciding that it doesn’t matter whose turn it is- someone is going to have their needs met, and the computer is going to get used. (Or deciding that it would be far less frustrating to bring one’s own computer from now on, which is what I’ve ended up doing for the past several weeks.) Either way, something actually happens- even if choices people make as a result of Uranus in Aries are not necessarily the smartest choices, at least they’ll be pushed out of the impasse of the Saturn-Pluto square and on their way to something else.

There are a million astrological things I could chalk this up to, but in the last few years I’ve found myself getting increasingly impatient, and not just over things like kids being stupid in the computer lab or my colleagues in the neuropsych lab trying to decide what to have for lunch (oh my God, do not even get me started on trying to decide what to have for lunch). If life were the imminent giant T-square all the time (and thank Christ it is not), more often than not I would be the Uranus in Aries factor. I often end up claiming the final say in what’s supposed to be a mutual or group decision if we can’t arrive at it fast enough. I push and shove. I frequently find myself chanting, “DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” when someone asks my advice on a decision they’re ambivalent about. But although I may come across as a little brusque, I’m not impulsive or reckless, or even (believe it or not) rude or inconsiderate. I’m expedient.

And I like being expedient, for myself and in situations that require a consensus, because if I wasn’t just deciding flat-out what we were having for lunch or pushing and shoving or chanting, “DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” do you know what I’d be doing instead? I’d be chronically worrying about being indecisive and whether I’m really doing the right thing. And lest we forget, I have a Moon on my Ascendant opposing Uranus, both of which make a T-square to the Sun. When I say chronically worrying, I mean chronically worrying. Like I could give both Morrissey and Woody Allen lessons. I have worried over whether I should have ordered something else at a restaurant two days prior. I have worried over whether a point I was trying to make in an essay came across just right even after it’s already been graded. I’m using all kinds of stupid little examples to illustrate a pretty gigantic planetary interaction, but really, they’re not so stupid. When people get used to chronically worrying and hemming and hawing in this Saturn in Libra way over stupid little things, the big things that Pluto brings feel that much worse. (Little hassles add up to major stress. Richard Lazarus. Google it.) In this way, when they realize how destructive that can be, they welcome the Uranus in Aries energy, the ability to just make a decision without having to second-guess themselves for the sake of others around them. At least when Pluto hits, they’ll know very clearly where they stand in all of it.

I think what scares people the most about having to act Uranian instead of Saturnian, but especially when Aries-Libra is involved, is the idea of upsetting things or breaking things. It’s more than just hurting peoples’ feelings, as I described above. It’s this idea that everyone else is secretly so fragile that making a proactive decision for oneself will really psychically annihilate them somehow. For God’s sake, no. If you want to make an omelette you have to break a few eggs. If you need a computer and no one else is getting up to take their turn, then you are totally within your right to cut ahead of them. And better you do it and get what you need done before something Plutonian happens, like a power outage, and all of you are shit out of luck. If this doesn’t happen, the worst thing is that the people on line with you will just have to wait a little bit longer. They will get over it. (Unless you are actually logging on to play Farmville.)

I think proactivity and accountability are going to become much larger issues to be contended with in the coming months than maybe they’ve been in a long time. But I think there is potential to find balance among all the forces involved in the T-square- if not collectively right away, then definitely personally, to figure out where we are conceding too much not only to other people, but to forces beyond our control, at the expense of the expression of our own needs.

I know where it’s affecting me, and I’m sure I’ll be writing about it a lot more upcoming, especially while Saturn goes back into Virgo, for extra analytic power. Where is it affecting you, and what do you plan to do about it? Specifically, how will you mitigate your apologist tendencies with making sure you’re doing right by yourself?

Understanding astrology in-depth has so many benefits: you sharpen your intuition, you pay closer attention to cultural trends, and you learn to trust your inner voice in a way that most people don’t in their entire lifetime (let alone at one of the most stressful periods of their entire life, when it’s most needed). Not to mention that the astrological community has some sweeping generational gaps, and is always excited about new blood.

I don’t think there’s necessarily a “right” or “wrong” way to go about studying astrology. I do, however, think there’s a smart way. I first started studying astrology in 1998 at age fourteen. I didn’t really have a serious study plan; I just read whatever I could as I could, without doing a great many chart readings until I was well out of my teens, which could be smart depending on who you ask. Susan Miller, one of the most well known mainstream astrologers, writes that per her instructor, she didn’t read anyone’s chart until she had been studying for ten years. I do think that’s a bit much, but I agree that there are a few things you’ll want to be solid on before you dive into reading charts.

Astrology is continuous; since it operates on archetype, one planet or aspect could have many different meanings, and as you advance in your study you will set yourself apart from others on the strength of your ability to use your imagination. But for now, if you’re just starting out, you want to be solid on things like modalities, elements (my 7^th grade best friend insisted that Aquarius is a water sign because it has “aqua” in it, and as expected of an Aquarius, not even Linda Goodman’s book could change her mind- Rachel, if you’re reading this, Aquarius is still an air sign), houses, rulerships (traditional and modern), essential dignities, etc., and also on what a secondary progression is or what a transit is. Make yourself flashcards if you have to. It’s a lot like learning a foreign language, but it makes all the difference in how easily you’ll be able to absorb substantive information later on. The book that really got the ball rolling for me was The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need by Joanna Martine Woolfolk. For an introductory book, it’s very comprehensive and very easy to read, and Woolfolk’s definitions provide a really good framework for the basics.

I also suggest that you get yourself an ephemeris- actually, two of them. Even though you can look up most anything online, it’s still a good idea to have a 20^th century and 21^st century ephemeris (I like Michelsen’s American Ephemeris at midnight) to quickly eyeball progressions and transits and track all kinds of things like planetary stations and eclipses. (And trust me, until you can cough up the $300-400 for SolarFire, unless you are some kind of human computer or Nick Dagan Best, you WILL be eyeballing your progressions and transits.)

While we’re on the subject of the Internet, let me extol the virtues of using the Internet for studying astrology, and tell you how lucky you are to be able to take its efficiency for granted. When I began studying in 1998, the average person’s dial-up Internet (i.e. mine) was incredibly janky. My attempts to find legitimate astrological study aids were interrupted every time the phone would ring, and by the time most pages finished loading I would have already finished most of my homework. Thankfully, it is so not like that anymore. The Internet has become a lot faster and more user-friendly, and aside from the legendary astro.com, there are so many more resources that have become available in barely the last decade. You can accurately and readily calculate charts. You can search for and locate out-of-print books, or purchase e-books, or even peruse your library catalogue right from home. I highly recommend milking astro.com for all it’s worth, because there is a lot more to that site than meets the eye- and it’s one of the few astrology reference sites that is totally legit and is frequently updated. I also recommend the newly introduced planetwatcher.com, which was developed by my friend Kirk Kahn, to refine your ephemeris searches. It’s an up-to-the-minute, live layout of current transits that can be progressed backwards or forwards to the month, day, and even the hour.

Networking is pretty key in accelerating your study of astrology as well. In the past, teenagers interested in astrology (or any esoteric or taboo subject, for that matter) often had to go to extreme measures to make sure their study would be kept secret from well-meaning but unsophisticated parents or flat-out intolerant school officials, and often that meant it had to be a solitary practice. Personally, my astrological prowess literally exploded once I was able to engage with other astrologers and see a variety of different perspectives. I recently had the opportunity to attend my first astrological conference, and meeting some of my astrology heroes who I’d been reading for ages was pretty mind-blowing. (Most astrologers are really nice! And not intimidating at all!) Of course, you do have to keep your guard up a little as you’re starting to network, especially if you are still “illegal.” (Without naming any names, there are a few known fruitbats who are spreading misinformation or pushing an agenda in astrology, just as there would be in any other field, who love to feast on your teenage flesh.) But making friends with other quality astrologers of all ages will really set you on a good course, and having astrology friends close to your age is incredibly validating. I personally love everybody at the Association for Young Astrologers (AYA); becoming a member of AYA costs less than an iTunes gift card. I also like to peruse astrodispatch.com, which is an aggregator site of all the very best astrology blogs out there. Another site I can’t recommend enough is horoscopicastrologyblog.com, which is operated entirely by young astrologers (by young, I mean early 20’s-early 40’s tops).

As you continue to study and network, you’ll see that astrology doesn’t necessarily stop at just reading charts. It also includes events, blogs, cultural discussions, and a far deeper appreciation for subtext (not to mention mythology, literature, science, and pretty much anything else that could hold your interest). And with the upcoming Uranus ingress into Aries, you can probably think of tons more genius constructive uses for it, and the community wants to hear them! Best of luck with your studies- you’ll thank yourself for it later!

Lucy has been studying astrology since the tender age of fourteen and has been semi-pro for the past year and a half. She firmly believes that astrology imitates life and can be applied constructively not only to real people, but also to unpack long-standing cultural memes; she demonstrates this in her blog, Lucy Looking Upward, and in the advice she dispenses.

This article is featured in Uranus in Aries: Claiming a Self-Reliant Future published on Auntie Moon as Part of the 2010 International Astrology Day Blogathon. The purpose of this web-based event is to create a permanent library of articles about how to deal with the stresses of the Cardinal T-Square of Pluto, Saturn and Uranus. The main page for the Blogathon collections is at The Cardinal T-Square of 2010: Saturn, Uranus, Pluto.

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10 Tips for Learning Astrology

Mia Zapata, 1965-1993

The Gits were actually a punk band, but they are often incorrectly classified as grunge (due to their connection with Seattle grunge bands Nirvana and Soundgarden) or as part of the riot grrrl movement. It’s true that the horrible circumstances of Mia Zapata’s death were exactly the kind of thing that riot grrrl bands like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile were writing about, and seemed to drive home the grisly reality of violence against women- that even punk women and riot grrrls were not impervious to sexual violence, that it is a serious problem that needs addressing. (The non-profit Home Alive was founded by members of the Seattle music community in memory of Mia Zapata.) But Mia Zapata herself never explicitly wrote about political issues in her songs. They primarily have to do with addiction, with loneliness, with loss- but it’s hard to say exactly what she was thinking when she wrote them. In a recent documentary The Gits by Kerri O’Kane, guitarist Joe Spleen describes what an extremely private person Mia Zapata was. Onstage, her former bandmates say, she was raw and abrasive, and commanded respect. Offstage, however, she was “modest, affectionate, private, and gentle.” They describe a somewhat awkward and badly-timed sense of humor; the name “chicken woman” in the title comes from a college friend’s description of her gawky posture. But there is nothing awkward or gawky about the “heavy angel” voice and energy that came out onstage, and it’s easy to see why she was seen as a welcome ally to a movement that was all about female empowerment.

Mia Zapata was born August 25, 1965 in Louisville, KY. I don’t have a birth time for her, but the chart I generated is for noon. As such, my analysis is pretty limited; I’m sure if I had angles, I could analyze for days. It came as no surprise to me, though, that the two sides of Mia Zapata- the charismatic, powerful punk singer and the more solitary poet- were pretty apparent right away.

Mia Zapata's natal chart, no birth time (courtesy of astro.com)

It may seem as if these two sides are total opposites, but in fact, they’re incredibly well-integrated. Mia’s Virgo Sun and Leo Mercury (which is conjoined almost exactly with her Moon and exactly squaring her Neptune) are in mutual reception. All that raw power that could overwhelm the average Virgo has a voice- literally, an enviably rich and throaty voice. Even if she had wanted to suppress the energy she had, she probably would have been unable to. Being a singer in a punk band provided a fortunate outlet for this intensity, where she could successfully command well-deserved attention and her most intimate thoughts could take on a fiery edge- although, as quoted in the documentary, she could have sung any genre she wanted and done so incredibly. For that reason, it’s also worth noting that making punk her genre of choice was no accident- she has Saturn retrograde in Pisces opposing Uranus conjunct Pluto in Virgo. This outer-planet conjunction is part of the reason that music from the early 90′s is so awesome, because you have intensity, darkness, and a completely original sound funneled through perfect musicianship. (Kurt Cobain and Billy Corgan, among many other rock heavyweights, were also born during this conjunction.) Her Venus is dignified in Libra, but unaspected; it’s not clear if Mia ever had any serious romantic involvements, but guitarist Joe Spleen refers to her as his “music soul mate.” However, at age 20, her progressed Venus went into Scorpio, which underscores the rawness of her Leo-Mercury conjunction; this probably prompted, if not an actual sexual awakening, an awareness of the incredible magnetism she possessed and an openness to using it.

Still, though, with all of that perfect rock star material, that’s not all there was to Mia Zapata. Her Saturn in Pisces is retrograde, and would probably have stayed that way all her life. People with Saturn retrograde, if not actual loners, tend to see the world quite differently from everyone else; in fact, it’s fair to say that they’ve created their own world. Not only is Mia’s Saturn retrograde in Pisces, but it is the handle of her bucket chart and widely conjunct Chiron. It wasn’t her dynamic stage presence that really drove her to be who she was; it was her sensitivity, the hidden part of her that no one could really know. Her wide Saturn-Chiron conjunction makes an inconjunct to her Moon-Mercury conjunction, which is probably what drove her to express feelings of loneliness and inner conflict in a way that sounds empowered and proactive. It’s interesting that her lyrics dealt with self-effacing material, as one thing among many that Mia was noted for was her (Virgo-Pisces) modesty and total lack of pretense. More reserved than ego-driven, she made it a point to make herself and her bandmates available to other up-and-coming bands. She actively mentored 7 Year Bitch at The Rat House as they were forming, and remained friends with the band even as they commercially surpassed The Gits. Her father is quoted as saying that “Mia had a complete and total social conscience. She cared about people.” And this social conscience came back to her, even after her untimely death. The remaining Gits released a posthumous album, Enter The Conquering Chicken, in Mia’s memory, and the entire Seattle music community, with the help of major figures like Joan Jett and Kurt Cobain, pulled together to fund their own investigation of her murder and to start up Home Alive.

Mia Zapata’s murder remained an unsolved mystery for ten years, until a DNA profile was able to be matched from a saliva sample on her body. The saliva was traced to Jesus Mezquia, a fisherman who had been living in Seattle at the time of the murder and had a history of convictions for violence against women. The unanimous guilty verdict that put Mezquia in prison for more than 36 years was not only a major breakthrough for Mia’s family and friends, but it was legally significant as well- it was one of the first incidences of DNA evidence being instrumental in a conviction.

At the time of her death, Mia had just had her progressed lunar return, putting her in the “27 Club” of musicians who died on or around their progressed lunar returns at age 27. She was still a year and a half away from her Saturn return, but it was already starting to create a stir- and transiting Jupiter was exactly conjunct her natal Venus. Mia was getting excited about the new direction her career was taking, and the amount of mainstream spotlight she would soon be enjoying (and no doubt her Saturn return would have had her reconciling her private side with this seriously different kind of celeb-reality). The frightening astrological part about her murder comes with (who else?) Pluto: transiting Pluto was trining her natal Chiron and squaring her Moon-Mercury conjunction. I have to wonder: what did her killer see when he descended upon her? Did he see a woman who appeared strong and charismatic, and was therefore some kind of “threat” to him? Or did he see a vulnerable, awkward-looking woman, who was clearly “easy prey”? Did he see both? Or ultimately, did it even matter? Clearly, though, the love for this incredibly talented woman outweighs the savagery of what was done to her. She (like so many other victims) was so much more than her death.

From one of The Gits’ last shows, about a week before Mia Zapata’s murder:

Surely you all remember The Clusterfuck of Doom. Neptune and Chiron are still on my MC and my Venus; however, they feel far less Clusterfuck-y than they did last year. This is true for several reasons: 1) they have both gone direct, so their energies can be utilized the way they’re actually supposed to be, i.e. not liquifying my insides and making me really sick, 2) Jupiter, having just ingressed into Pisces, is no longer attached to them, so it translates to just a little bit of fog and not agonizing Clusterfuck-y madness, and 3) I had kind of a “Soylent Green is people!” realization about why it felt particularly difficult this whole time, which sort of ties in with an upcoming undisclosed project.

As I’ve come to understand the higher implications of what it means to have Venus in Aquarius on as prominent of an angle as the MC, I’m finally owning how much I love it. Seriously, I LOVE having Venus in Aquarius on my MC, like LOVE, L-U-V. I could have eliminated so much earlier heartache if I’d only realized just how amazing it is sooner. In all my gung ho newfound appreciation, though, I was so completely confused as to why the Neptune-Chiron transit appeared to be messing it up. But here’s what I realized: your natal placements are not the only thing at work at any given time. They’re the only thing a lot of people use, because there is of course such a thing as too much information. But sometimes when transits or whatever don’t match up the way they’re “supposed” to, some people will get into a simplistic huff and decide that astrology must not work- when actually, if you just look from a slightly different angle, there is a reason for the cognitive dissonance somewhere. Maybe you have to look at your progressed chart. Maybe you have to use another house system. The debate over which is better, tropical or sidereal time, is always popular, but I think it’s totally pointless and ridiculous, because neither is “better”; they’re different. But they’re all relevant, if you’re willing to include them all.

I realized that the Clusterfuck of Doom was that much more confounding because despite having natal Venus and my MC in Aquarius, I’ve also had my progressed Venus and MC in Pisces for a really long time (Venus since I was five, MC I don’t know because it’s late and I’m too lazy to calculate it right now, but probably about the same). It goes without saying that Venus in Aquarius and Venus in Pisces are very, very different. But it explains a lot about the trajectory of my life until recently, and why I’ve often been really confused about how I could have such significant Aquarius placements when I felt like “SUCH a Pisces.” I mean, that’s one whopping fucking dose of Neptune and Jupiter. It’s seriously kind of amazing that I’m not fried on drugs or a Christian Scientist right now. It’s reassuring to realize that progressions are strong influences, but they are not actually who you really are. Nothing against Pisces, but its energy can be seriously overwhelming if unfiltered, and it’s not like I don’t have enough other placements and aspects in my natal chart that make me ridiculously oversensitive as is. Being able to put the former Clusterfuck of Doom in perspective that way, to realize that it only felt as strong as it did because of the complete excess of Pisces/Neptune energy I’ve been swimming in (*rimshot*) all this time, makes me think I should have chosen a more appropriate name for it, like The Biggest Margarita You’ve Ever Drank. When I think about it, in a lot of ways I really embody my Venus and MC in Aquarius much more than I’d previously given myself credit for. Like, for instance, the fact that I have never and would never sacrifice anything I was doing professionally for a relationship. The Venus in Pisces by progression has put me in situations where that’s been an issue, and you’d think I would have- but the idea of doing so always felt really, really wrong to me, even when I was in early high school. Or the fact that even while I was actively making and enjoying art, something about doing it as a career didn’t sit right with me. Or the fact that there are certain things about the culture we live in that I am simply not okay with and am not willing to ignore or let slide, where the Pisces influence would have me “forgiving,” “accepting,” “living and letting live.” Or hell, even the fact that I write my blog the way I do, that despite being extremely interested in astrology and the occult and magic, I’ve always treated it kind of academically and managed to be one of the least New Age-y people I’ve ever met.

Part of my growth in studying astrology has included not being married to what one chart says to the point where I doubt my own intuition and gut sense. So I’d say that being able to tease out what’s actually me and what’s just an outside influence is kind of empowering. And now I’m more excited about what I’m going to do next than EVAR, because it involves significant pieces of everything described above. YES.

Has anyone else had a similar “Soylent Green is people!” moment in astrology?

Yesterday marked my very last exam, and the end of the semester. THANK CHRIST. So fittingly, upon returning home, I took off my pants and settled into bed with my Kettle chips and Coke for a Netflix Instant binge. On Monday, a whole mess of movies on my queue had become available for instant viewing (among them Brian DePalma’s Sisters OMG and Kurosawa’s Yojimbo OMG). After watching a couple of movies successfully, I went back to my queue only to find that where all the “play” buttons should have been on these new movies, it once again said “Available 12/21/2009,” which was… Monday. Technical difficulty, I was sure. So I called up the customer service hotline, calmly explained the problem and asked if this was a regular occurrence because I’d never had it happen before. The voice on the other end (which had an obscenely Deep Southern drawl to it) thoroughly answered my question and helped me figure out what the problem was. Until I said one more time, “That’s so odd, I’ve honestly never had that happen to me before,” and he said, “Okay, well, try not to have a nervous breakdown.” Um. What? “Who’s having a nervous breakdown?” I asked. After some more double-checking that the problem was solved, he said, “Okay, now does that answer your question? Can you calm down and take a deep breath?” Well, sure, if I… hadn’t been calm to begin with.

That kind of shit pisses me off royally, not only because you know he would never have spoken to a man that way, and because of the persistent implication that if a woman isn’t giggling and half-flirting her way through any interaction with a man in a wispy fairy voice then she must be yelling. Incidents like the one with this customer service douche make me extremely unnecessarily self-conscious. My 3rd House cusp is at 29+ Cancer, so transiting Mars has been in my 3rd House since its entry into Leo. I know that I have kind of a loud voice, but I do not yell. In fact, I make a serious conscious effort to keep my voice as low and calm as possible, even and especially when I am visibly furious. My father had an anger management problem and was extremely verbally abusive for most of my childhood; watching him, I learned that you do not get the help you need when you are yelling and calling people names. That said, though, you also don’t get it (especially if you’re a woman) when you whisper, “Um, hi, this is gonna sound like the stupidest question ever, but, um… where are the drill bits? I’m sooooo bad at finding things” or “Um, listen, I’m sooooooo sorry to ask this, but would it be okay for me to get almond milk instead of skim in my smoothie? I’m sooooo sorry, it’s totally okay if you can’t, I’m just allergic, it’s so stupid…” When I’m told to “calm down” when I already am calm, or I’m told to “try not to have a nervous breakdown” when I’m simply asking a question in a firmer version of my normal speaking voice, even though I know that I’m not yelling, part of me wonders: “AM I yelling? Is that what my voice just sounds like?”

I’m glad to have Mars in my 3rd House by transit. Since it’s been there, I’ve given successful class presentations, I’ve approached professors about research and volunteer work (and gotten it), and I’ve been able to openly admit when I need help with something. And it also poses another question to chew on during this retrograde period: do you feel justified in your anger, or at least in your right to assert your will and desires? And how much is too much? I am completely within my right to demand (pleasant, unpatronizing) help from a customer service hotline, and doing so should not make me wonder if I was actually “inappropriate”- and even if I had been yelling, it would have been the rep’s responsibility to assist me regardless. I never use the phrase “I’m sorry” or put myself down when I’m requesting help or information. Because I’m not sorry. I want my Netflix Instant fixed. I want to know where the drill bits are. I want almond milk instead of skim in my smoothie. And I’m not stupid or crazy for wanting any of these things. Similar to how I’ve learned not to yell by watching my father, I’ve learned not to apologize or put myself down for wanting my needs met by watching my mother. She is less notorious for apologizing to the other party than she is for demanding validation from the other party by shrieking, “God, what’s wrong with me???” or muttering, “God, I am so stupid!!!” As I’m getting more aware of it, I’ve had to reprimand her about it several times recently. Because not only is it incredibly tiring to listen to, especially over bullshit like buying the wrong kind of cat food, it’s exactly what men like the Netflix rep want to hear. “I desire something from you, so that makes me crazy and hysterical.” “I need help, so that makes me stupid.”

I think that as we go on with the Mars retrograde, it might be a valuable question to ask yourselves, as you reconsider your approach to anger, if for you the opposite of assertiveness is self-effacement. Because while you don’t want to alienate people in your anger, you also don’t want to alienate yourself by being ashamed to express it. You don’t need to yell, but it’s also not your responsibility to whisper and apologize. Just get what it is you fucking want.

p.s. I totally wrote an angry complaint to Netflix in which I detailed the entire exchange and singled out the representative by name. Try telling women to calm down and not have a nervous breakdown on the UNEMPLOYMENT LINE, asshat.