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Horoscopes

Hug Your Bedbugs Tight, It’s Pisces Season

The changing season promises blooming trees, sunny days, and lighter winter coats—or more likely, it’ll snow-rain in New York every day until sometime in June.

11:30 AM EST on March 1, 2023

(Hell Gate)

It's March, folks, which means we're just a few weeks away from the blessings bestowed by the spring equinox! The changing season promises blooming trees, sunny days, and lighter winter coats—or more likely, it'll snow-rain in New York every day until sometime in June. 

The planets have some adventures in store for Pisces-into-Aries season. First, we're getting a full moon in Virgo on March 7, and though some naysayers say this is a bad thing, I believe this is because of deep-seated, wrongheaded Virgophobia. Aries season kicks off on March 20, so expect to experience a big surge of excitement and energy and also maybe cry in a bar bathroom, because Aries contain multitudes. And on March 23, Pluto moves from Capricorn to Aquarius for the next two decades, which astrologers believe will usher in a new and more hopeful era for humanity. Silly astrologers! There's no such thing as hope.

Most importantly, "Succession" is back on March 26. 

Here's what else to expect this month:

PISCES (February 19-March 20)

The bedbugs are throwing you a birthday party! They bake you a teeny cake made with your own blood and celebrate by crawling all over you in your sleep and sucking the rest of the nutrients out of your body. They've also brought you gifts—more bedbugs. You will never exterminate them. They are your family now. 

ARIES (March 21-April 19)

The planets want you to treat yourself this month, dear Aries, so you decide to celebrate your birthday by buying a fancy new pair of glasses at a Park Slope eyeglass shop. You get an eye test, pick out your frames, and leave a deposit. They tell you the glasses will be ready in five days, but when you return to pick them up, the store is closed. You return three days later, but it's still closed. You return again the next week, but yup, still closed. You return before the end of the month to discover the building the store was located in has completely disappeared—not demolished, simply gone—and when you ask the bodega owner next door what happened, he says he's never seen an eyeglass shop on that block in his life. 

TAURUS (April 20-May 20)

You've been feeling extra lonely lately, sweet Taurus, but have no fear: March will be about building new relationships. Chiefly, the relationship between you and your new neighbor, with whom you share a wall that your landlord's cousin built out of cardboard. He moved in two weeks ago and you've never spoken, but you already feel like you've known him forever.

You watch movies together, him watching in his own apartment, and you listening to it inside yours. You listen to the theme song of "The Office" together, over and over and over and over. When he claps and cheers because his favorite sports player has done a sports thing, you do too. When he argues with his mom on the phone, you feel his pain. One night, he brings a date home and shares the experience so thoroughly through the cardboard wall that it feels like you are on the date, too. Sure, he doesn't know you exist, but that doesn't mean he isn't your best friend. 

GEMINI (May 21-June 21)

This month, the planets have you gripped with wanderlust, so you make an excursion to the new Grand Central Madison to see what the hype is all about. The station is beautiful—the walls gleam, the lights shimmer, the escalators (for once) escalate. But soon after arriving, you realize you chose to make this particular trip on St. Patrick's Day, and you are quickly crushed to death by the entire population of Long Island. 

CANCER (June 22-July 22)

You're feeling daring this month, Cancer, so you finally buy a pair of wide-legged jeans that the lady at L Train Vintage says look great on you. You pair them with a fun shirt and a snappy pair of boots to head out on the town, but before you can make it out of your building, the teens smoking weed in your lobby start laughing at you. You go back to your apartment, burn the jeans, and move to New Jersey. 

LEO (July 23-August 22)

Remember that outdoor dining shed you handcuffed yourself to in October? You gave up several days into your protest after a drunk 20-something urinated on you, and now outdoor dining is doomed forever. Yes, it's your fault. Pee is sterile, you coward.

VIRGO (August 23-September 22)

The full moon will prime you for romance, lovely Virgo, so you hit the apps and find yourself a hot date. He's smart, he's funny, you get along great!

When you get home, you block his number. 

LIBRA (September 23-October 22)

You bought a dresser from Wayfair during a Presidents' Day sale, and have finally moved the box from outside your apartment door to your bedroom. You've stretched out your Allen wrench arm and primed your instruction-reading skills, as you'll be putting it together any day now. Not today though. Maybe tomorrow. Hm, no, tomorrow's no good, maybe next week?

You decide to use it, in the meantime, as a shelf for your makeup. Oh look, there's a nice little spot next to your eyeshadow palette to put a framed photo of your best friends. Your socks and underwear fit right on the box's address label. You put your folded T-shirts in the middle. Maybe you can build the dresser around the clothes...?

SCORPIO (October 23-November 22)

March is set to bring you some surprises, dear Scorpio. Shortly after the full moon, you stumble into your bathroom to take a shower when you discover, to your horror, a rat in your bathtub. You scream and run for your phone to call your super, but the rat follows you and pleads for its life. "Don't hurt me!" he says. "All I want is to be a great chef!"

Indeed, it turns out the rat is a pretty great cook—he just needs a human marionette to help him make the dishes. The two of you get right to work, with him sitting on your head and controlling you via your hair to create spectacular meals. You start feeding your friends and neighbors; eventually, you pivot to running a small supper club out of your apartment. The venture catches on via word of mouth and TikTok, becoming successful enough that you and Bathtub Rat manage to open a storefront down the street. Pete Wells pans it, and it shuts down after a month.

SAGITTARIUS (November 23-December 21)

The planets want you to get a pet this month, so you adopt the Prospect Park alligator. It turns out alligators make great company, and the two of you get along quite well. She also eats your landlord, which rules.  

CAPRICORN (December 22-January 19)

After a mostly snowless winter, New York has finally started to get some dustings. All of your coworkers are excited about waking up to snowy streets, until you tell them it isn't really snow, but a government psy-op intended to quell a population that's become increasingly agitated by the onset of climate change. Brenda from billing says you couldn't possibly be right about that, but you know that it's true. Your friends on Nextdoor would never lie to you. 

AQUARIUS (January 20-February 18)

You finally get a reservation to a restaurant you've wanted to go to for months, but it's at 9:15 p.m. on a Sunday. You can do 9:15 on a Sunday, right? You're a cool, cosmopolitan New Yorker, you can eat at 9:15 on a Sunday. Anybody can do dinner at 9:15 on a Sunday if they try hard enough! You ate dinner at 8 once and that's practically 9:15. Right? Right? Right? Right? You have willpower. The day of the reservation arrives and you get to the restaurant at 9:12, only to find your table isn't ready until 10. 

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