Astrology, Life & Times

my third house life

So remember my triumphant return to blogging? Because the world was in shambles and I thought we’d need mediums like these — emphasizing the personal, the mundane — to act as our bridge over troubled waters? (I did not say “bridge over troubled waters” at the time, but it sounds good here, so I’m going with it).

Well. That hasn’t quite worked out.

It’s hard to write about yourself when you’re lost. When you’re sick of yourself. When you have no idea who the hell you are anymore and you’re known for bold declarations of just that. How do you write through that without whining? Without navel-gazing in the midst of social, political, and cultural upheaval?

So, I didn’t write.

The problem is, I write to know who I am.

That’s not some shit I made up on the fly, either. If you look at my natal chart, the ruler of my First House (the house of the Self a.k.a. the “you” in your chart and don’t let anyone tell you differently) is in my Third House (communication). Me and the mediums with which I express myself go hand in hand. Yet, I hesitate to go through the motions on my blog, because?

Pride. Shame.

I don’t want you to see me unsure or questioning. Then, you might say “That’s what you get for not being normal. For thinking you could do life ‘differently’ and be fulfilled.”

I am afraid of what you’ll think of me. And now that I’ve looked that particular boogeyman in the face, I can tell it “Fuck you.”

Another fact about the Third House of the natal chart: it is a busy house. Planets placed in the 3rd don’t get to sit still. They are tasked with problem-solving. With the ruler of my house of self in the third, “Who am I?” might be an open question for the rest of my life.

That sounds like a pain in the ass. I suppose I should write about it.

Let me find out this shit really works.
Astrology, Life & Times

here comes the sun

The Sun enters Leo tomorrow and I’m… excited? Is that the right word?

That’s the word I’ll go with. Excited.

This matters on the global scale because the Sun going into Leo alleviates some of the *gestures broadly at the state of the world* going on outside.

For me, it matters because the Sun (my patron planet, if you will) will enter the First House of my natal chart: the section that represents the self, life, body, and health; “the focal point for the personality and manner of expression.” [1]

Born under a Leo Ascendant, I’m a big fan of focusing on myself. I probably take “worry about yourself” to an unhealthy extreme, but ’tis the season to straighten that out.

This won’t be an “It’s all about me/self-love” bender with champagne and confetti for the next thirty days. Rather, I’m taking this time to focus on the “centered” part of “self-centered.”

I.e. getting my shit together.

Not to give my self an Extreme Makeover in 30 Days or less–my Don Draper days are behind me–but to ground myself. In this body, at this moment.

Less worrying about myself (being in my head 24/7 about every aspect of my life), more taking care of myself via simple, tangible actions that can build the foundation for better habits.

  • I’ve loosely “done yoga” for the last twelve years. Over the next thirty days, I’m committing to a daily yoga practice with no goal in mind but to hit the mat.
  • More daily movement, period. Whether that’s my 2(ish) mile walks around my neighborhood or parking farther from the door when I go to work/the grocery store.
  • Eating lighter. I’ll never give up my weekend hash or my love of brown rice and whole-grain pasta, but I can balance my portions to include more vegetables and fewer snacks. (Already weeping for my Cheetos White Cheddar Puffs)
  • Drying out for Leo season. My body could use a booze break.
  • More blogging. Because public journaling forces me to slow down and focus and seeing my thoughts mirrored back to me helps me get out of my head.

As you can see, “slow,” “simple,” and “thoughtful” are the themes of the season. Apparently, living in one’s own mind doesn’t make for thoughtful action. Who knew?

This could be my most humble Leo Season yet, but you know? That’s probably appropriate. The Sun doesn’t tell you it’s the Sun. It just shows up every day and does its job.

[1] Houlding, Deborah. “House Rulerships in Practice: The First House.” Skyscript. Accessed 21 July 2020.

*If you follow me on my other social mediums and like tangents, ask me why your Rising Sign/Ascendant is more “you” than your Sun Sign.

Astrology, Life & Times


Today marks the beginning of Libra Season and the end of a crappy personal year.

Yes, my birthday is 16 days away, but I’m calling this year early. It’s been that kind of shit show.

In traditional astrology, there’s a timing technique called Annual Profections. It’s a fancy way to say every year of your life highlights a different house on your natal chart. I won’t get super technical or specific, but even from a 50,000-foot view, Profections tell you what themes you’ll deal with each year of your life. 

Thirty-Five is a 12th House Year. 

There are three “bad places” on a natal chart and the 12th House is one of them. It’s a place of endings—closing out a life cycle. Themes often associated with the 12th include hidden enemies, isolation (forced or voluntary), and institutions that remove us from society (i.e. hospitals, prisons, mental hospitals, convents). From a psychological perspective, the 12th House blurs the identity and dissolves the ego. When you enter a long-term 12th House transit (say, an entire year), you likely won’t leave the way you came. 

Also important in Annual Profections: the planet ruling the house of the year. My 12th House is in Cancer, which means the Moon was like my patron saint for 365 days. My Moon is in my 4th House of home and family, so those areas of life were triggered by the year’s events, too. 

Here are some things that happened since my 35th birthday last October: 

  • October: I got in a car accident and landed in the hospital with whiplash, a busted lip, and a sore 35-year-old body. Oh, and my car was totaled. A new car = a car note and dashed plans to move out of my mother’s apartment in the spring. 
  • December: The FBI visited my home to investigate a claim that I’d threatened to kill someone via Twitter. Yes, you read that correctly. An old blog acquaintance from 2008—who I never met or spoke to offline—is posted up in some random corner of Twitter, spinning a narrative that he’s being stalked and harassed by people who no longer speak to him, using screenshots of innocuous tweets. This man at-replied the Cleveland FBI on Twitter and told them I threatened him with a gun. Thankfully, the Feds were understanding once I explained how Twitter worked: that I’d blocked him and couldn’t see all the crazy shit he alleged, nor did I interact with his account at all.  But man, having Feds show up on my mother’s doorstep about some Twitter shit was… not great. 
  • February & March: Had a massive blow-up with my mother that ended with me deciding to move out (which, honestly, was long overdue after 5 years), tight finances be damned. A bug infestation at the building pushed my move date from June 1 to May 1. 
  • May: I moved to a nearly perfect one-bedroom apartment with hardwood floors and tons of natural light. The highlight of a shit sandwich year. 
  • June – September: I had no energy for people, whatsoever. I barely left my apartment and even people’s partying Instagram posts were too loud and annoying. 

Let’s run our 12th & 4th House theme checklist: 

  • Institution visit? Check.
  • Hidden enemy? Check.
  • Home and family issues? Check.
  • Isolation? Check. 

Funnnnnn times. 

I’d need another post to detail the psychological shifts throughout the year–questions of image and identity, beliefs (if I believed anything at all, which I don’t anymore), the vision for my life and if I need a vision at all.

For now, I’ve settled on being completely average, but we’ll see. 

The year ahead is a 1st House year, with themes around the self, image, body, character, and personality; plenty more time for “Who am I and does it matter when the world is burning” existential dread.  

For now, I’m celebrating the end of a challenging year and a transformative chapter in my life. The last 12 years have been a RIDE.