Happy Pride, Portland! I know, I know—technically we celebrate Pride in July, unlike the rest of the country, because we like to keep Portland “weird” (à la Austin, Texas), and we’re still too hip to follow trends like celebrating annual occasions at the correct time. The legendary Stonewall Riots, in which Martha P. Washington and Sylvia Plath threw bricks at Stonewall Jackson after the death of Judy Garland (as portrayed by The Truth About Pam’s Renée Zellweger), did occur in June. But it rains here in June, or it used to, back when we had weather other than fire, and it’s not like everyone else is on the same page, either. Palm Springs celebrates Pride in October—because it’s too hot to go outside in the summer, when all the elderly, oiled-up bears would fry to a crisp in open-air slings—and Washington, D.C. no longer recognizes the existence of LGBTQ people at all. Anyway, you had rights and something to celebrate once, and now you don’t. I’m sure there’s a cazimi or full moon or stray node somewhere that could explain all this better, but more importantly, let’s gaze at what the stars have in store for you this month, personally:
Aries (March 21–April 19)
Don’t be too proud of yourself, Aries. Just because the majority of your remaining “friends,” family, and innocent bystanders were marked safe from your birthday party a few months ago, this doesn’t mean they’ll forget the diva meltdown to which they bore witness in the Chuck E. Cheese ball pit. But you’ve got to admit those gifts fit you to a T: After all, you can pull off a bib, bonnet, diaper, and teething ring like they’re Louis Vuitton.
Taurus (April 20–May 20)
Congratulations are due to you, dear Bull—you made the most of Taurus season, and in true Taurean fashion, you did so while demonstrating absolutely no growth. You might have actually moved back a few steps, or floors, or decades. But everything old is new again, especially at Mar-a-Lago, and you seem destined to turn that can’t do attitude into a political career. Have you ever considered honing your forward-denying mindset on the Supreme Court?
Stupid Ex Larry Gemini (May 21–June 20)
It’s time to admit I’ve been wrong about Gemini. My Stupid Ex Larry was the worst of the worst and classically two-faced like Harvey Dent, but I’ve met someone, and Janice would never do me wrong. Janice lets me know how much she cares about me every day. Janice has low self esteem and only I can help her. She gently corrects me when I’m careless or inconsiderate or wrong or stupid, but Janice needs me, and I need her, and she would never, ever betray me unless I did something to deserve it—as long as I keep sending money orders. Online dating is such a game changer!
Cancer (June 21–July 22)
Your incoming natal return means it’s almost Cancer’s time to shine—and by “shine,” I mean hide in your shell and violently snap through the sand at anything approaching. But I jest: All that time in your safe space has given you a killer design sense. Your taste is impeccable, and you’ve feng shui’d your way into securing the most auspicious placements for that air horn, bear mace, fire poker, shotgun, pole-axe, and under-pillow hunting knife.
Leo (July 23–August 22)
This Pride season, let’s take a moment to appreciate our courageous Lion! You’re a one-person Pride float, showing up for your community to fiercely celebrate yourself. Never mind that due to budget cuts, yours is the only float in this year’s parade, and the route’s been reduced to the ten feet between Soho House and the majority of Portlanders who can’t afford to be there. But don’t get disheartened—sometimes success just looks empty, like all those storefronts downtown or Gus Van Sant’s eyes.
Virgo (August 23–September 22)
You put the “anal” in “anal retentive,” but thanks to your IBS, the buck stops there. Perhaps you’ve tried dietary gummies, salves, serums, and all manners of Kathy Hilton’s AI cleanses, but maybe what you need to do is simply relax. Try letting go. Get a massage, and then try getting those bunched-up muscles to let go of that poor masseur’s hand: It’s currently trapped somewhere between your glute and hamstrings, and the resulting lawsuit is only going to make spendthrift Virgo even more tense.
Libra (September 23–October 22)
You’re a peacemaker, and that accompanies a tendency for people pleasing. Your uncanny ability to straddle the fence of indecision evokes Switzerland, but you’ve actually got more in common with the Cheesecake Factory’s cornucopic (I think I made this word up) menu. You may feel innately called to offer Italian fusion egg rolls, Korean barbecue mini-pizzas, and cream cheese-based confections, or maybe you simply fear conflict and hide behind a laminated, ring-bound menu designed to prevent suburban displeasure. But the graham cracker crust on these fish tacos is delicious!
Scorpio (October 23–November 21)
If you were a piece of media, you might fancy yourself a messy, yet irresistible deep dive like Euphoria or MILF Manor, but you’d actually be Monster: The Ed Gein Story, a ham-fisted mash up of one or two facts with a whole lotta fancy. Like Ryan Murphy’s latest serialized miscarriage, you’re sexy, confusing, and mildly terrifying when you aren’t downright tedious. You may look unreasonably good in a slip and a skinned face, but at the end of the day we’re all just sticking around for Laurie Metcalf.
Sagittarius (November 22–December 21)
You’re the life of the party, but did you have to go all telekinetic and kill everyone? Even the nice gym teacher? You’ve got your triggers—along with a tendency to take the “die” part of “ride or die” a bit seriously when pushed—but they weren’t all laughing at you, they were all laughing with you, and that wasn’t pig’s blood, it was a champagne toast! (The next time Sagittarius wants to do a conga line, follow suit like your life depends on it. It absolutely does.)
Capricorn (December 22–January 19)
As a workaholic perfectionist, you throw events like none other—thoughtfully considered, exceedingly arranged, rigidly structured, and fine-tuned into oblivion with a vise-like death grip. As an attendee myself, I really enjoy the considerations you’ve made and labeled extensively for your guests: Which room is reserved for conversation, which room is for penitent silence, and which room is for unrepentant fisting. At least you’re full of surprises (and a Cash & Carry’s worth of Crisco).
Aquarius (January 20–February 18)
Ever the thinker, you hold the highest IQ of the signs. So what’s your problem, huh? You had loving and supportive parents? You did time in the Talented and Gifted program? Or maybe you went to a Montessori school?? You think you’re soooo enlightened, just because you’ve got intellectual vision, progressive ethics, and a humanitarian mindset. Well, guess who else has all that? Not me, and not the majority of the country either—so you can take all that water you’re lugging around and get out of here. We don’t want it! The only water we need is owned by Nestlé and powers AI searches on Google, do-gooder.
Pisces (February 19–March 20)
You’re a dreamer, seeker, and mystically-attuned empath, so you’re kind of the Zodiac’s own personal Jesus. Like Him, you’ve been known to speak in parables, hang out with hippies, and return to life after three days dead—but in your case, the latter was after an ayahuasca trip in a white shaman’s yurt. While the tattered robe and thorns in your hair may complete the ensemble, the resemblance ends there. You’re just not one to spread the Word, unless it’s a recipe for homemade opium or a neverending monologue about an erotic dream featuring Haley Joel Osment in a hot dog eating contest.
Anthony Hudson is a Grand Ronde and Siletz artist, writer, and former clown. His first book, Lamp Back: Plays and Other Grievances—collecting nearly a decade of Carla Rossi performances and more—is being published this fall by Northwestern University Press.