The lazy, hazy days of Leo season are upon us, as the Zodiac’s happiest and most carefree sign embraces summer’s slow and sluggish back half. August in New York is marked by humidity, emptier streets, steamy subway platforms and absolutely no news whatsoever, if we’re lucky.
Then again, the planets might have other ideas: Mercury’s entering Virgo on August 3, which’ll probably screw up everyone’s iMessages, and we’re getting a full moon in Aquarius on August 11, so you can expect a whole bunch of breakups coming up in the next few weeks. Start tightening those Hinge filters now while you’ve still got a chance—the new singles are getting back on the apps, and they’re all ethically non-monogamous now.
And, of course, once Leo season ends, we’re winding into VIRGO SEASON. Beyoncé was kind enough to write us Virgos a special song so we have something to listen to while organizing our closets—or, more likely in this closet-less housing market, our half-broken clothing racks—so that’s a nice gift. Still, no amount of end-of-summer cleaning will spare us the endless march toward death. Just something to keep in mind!
Here’s what else is coming this month:
LEO (July 23-August 22)
It’s your season, Leo! And thanks to the blessings gifted to you by your birth month and solar return, you’ll be getting showered with all sorts of goodies, like professional success, blossoming romance, and timely subway transfers. Unfortunately, this showering will also include literal showers, as New York’s new subtropical climate will be sending torrential rain storms right through your ceiling and onto all your furniture. Be sure to ask for an IKEA gift card for your birthday.
VIRGO (August 23-September 22)
Virgos are notorious control freaks, but with Mercury entering Virgo on August 3, it’s time to quash your micromanaging nature and let yourself give in to the elements. Leave the work behind one weekend and head to the beach with your pals for a relaxing Saturday on the sand. After downing a few nutcrackers and hitting up Rippers for some cheese fries, make your way into the deep blue Rockaway waters, where you’ll submerge your hot and tired body, swim out a bit to where the waves start, and let the ocean take ov—whoops, you’ve just been eaten by a shark.
LIBRA (September 23-October 22)
August’s full moon in Aquarius is the perfect time for you to cut out toxic relationships. Instead of taking the C, walk the extra five blocks to the 4/5. You’re welcome.
SCORPIO (October 23-November 22)
The upcoming full moon is set to bring some SERIOUS drama, and we mean serious. The pigeons roosting on top of your window A/C unit are fighting over which one gets to make a nest inside of it. (And if you think that’s impossible, you’ve clearly never tried to clean out the filter.) The turf war intensifies so much that the pigeons commit acts of slaughter, spattering pigeon blood on your window pane at 6 a.m. You ask your landlord if he can wash the windows for you. He laughs. The blood dries in the heat. The battlefield is permanently marked.
SAGITTARIUS (November 23-December 21)
Change is coming for you in August, especially when the full moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie mid-month. Indeed, your favorite local coffee shop will be changing ownership, and now instead of getting normal coffee for a normal price, you have to spend $7 on cold brew and they no longer have that tuna sandwich you like. There is no almond milk, only oat. You will have to move out of the neighborhood.
CAPRICORN (December 22-January 19)
August is hitting you with some big ups and downs when it comes to relationships, sweet Capricorn, in particular the one you have with the cat that lives under your neighboring building’s stoop. Though you and said cat have had perfectly cordial interactions for months, the cat has decided to turn on you for no reason. Whenever you try to leave your building, the cat hisses at you and bares its teeny little claws. It has also taken to leaving “gifts” outside your building’s gate that you know are really threats—dead birds, a twisted branch that looks like something out of the “Blair Witch Project,” human hair that you swear has some blood on it. It’s not clear to you why the cat has marked you as its next target, but I’m sorry to report that your days are now numbered.
AQUARIUS (January 20-February 18)
August is your month of independence, Aquarius, and you decide that it’s time to finally move out of the apartment you share with four members of an electronica band. Freedom, at last!!! Unfortunately, you did not consider that the housing market in New York City is currently in the fourth circle of hell. Despite your solid income and credit, after several weeks of brokers telling you that you were their “second choice” for various $2600/month studios with no windows, no kitchens and, come to think about it, no legal residential zoning, you decide to stay with the electronica band, after all. Maybe 2023 will be your year.
PISCES (February 19-March 20)
Bedbugs!
ARIES (March 21-April 19)
August’s spicy energy is set to sow discord, especially within your friend group: one member purchases a Subaru and sets off fierce debate over the ethics of owning a car in New York City. Though several group members are either pro-car ownership or neutral about it, some of the more dedicated cyclists and pedestrians have taken to engaging in lively discussions about urban vehicular manslaughter and texting the new driver things like, “I hope congestion pricing fucking ruins you.” No matter which side of the debate they’re on, everyone asks for a ride to the beach.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20)
Uranus is going retrograde in your sign this month, which will inspire you to make some big changes. That’s right—after months of debating it, you’re adopting a cat! Everything goes well. The cat, like all cats, is perfect. You are very happy. You name it “Moon.” There’s really nothing else to report here.
GEMINI (May 21-June 21)
You’re going to feel a little extra hot-headed this month, especially when Mars enters Gemini on August 20. Specifically, your head—and probably the rest of your body—will feel very hot when you enter a subway car with broken air-conditioning and the doors close the second you realize it. You consider walking through to the next car, but fear getting flung onto the tracks far more than a little extra perspiration. Unfortunately, thanks to signal problems, your train gets held in a tunnel for a few minutes longer than your sweat glands can handle. You make a quick run into the neighboring car once you make it to the next station, but now that you’re soaking wet, the air-conditioning is too cold.
CANCER (June 22-July 22)
The full moon is a time for you to exercise self-care, dear Cancer. It’s time to leave the city and move to the woods, where there is no MTA or street rat on the hunt for revenge to hurt you. Take me with you?
