Ope Pardon, No. 15: Aries Energy

I had a friend back in Chicago, and every time we saw each other, and every time we drank together — the overlap of which was more or less a complete circle — she would ask me what my astrological sign was and, in follow up, whether I felt that sign was true to my personality.

My answer was always the same: I am an Aries and ... sort of?

There are elements of the Aries stereotype I felt represented by —I think I am independent, motivated and determined. I would even say I have come to recognize the "confident leader" characterization in myself too. But I have never felt that the competitive or assertive parts of the profile — the fiery temperament and the explosive temper, the ram-ness of the ram — really described me. I can be wild stubborn, but I don't "love to be number one," I am not especially ambitious or selfish nor do I dive headfirst into things. I, for a long time, was the exact opposite of direct and, rather than abhor, I truly love exhaustive details and nuance. I genuinely believe nothing has ever described my approach to life less than "Aries leads with blind optimism, barreling through life with an electric joie de vivre that perfectly complements their distinctive impulsivity."

(When I leveled up my astrology interest last fall and discovered I was also a Taurus moon and Scorpio rising and all the other half-dozen assignments you get when you set up your chart on Costar, that's when I really felt seen by the stars. Yes, I am very sentimental and deeply loyal! I do try hard to maintain security and stability within relationships! I do feel powerless to fix messy situations but my way of thinking through those things is sensible and practical!)

Still, lately, I feel like I have been really coming into my own as an Aries, for better or worse. More specifically, I have been leaning into the combative and maybe selfish side of my sign. The impulsivity, the directness. I am more inclined than ever to make firm calls about what or who is serving my interests and then act decisively and accordingly. (Is Gerri on Succession an Aries? Surely someone has done the Succession characters as signs, no?) I have never really suffered fools, as it were, but where as before I would simply, to quote Taylor Swift, excuse myself from the narrative, now I am much more likely to say or do something about it (and/or offer unsolicited explanation for my action(s) that would knowingly trigger an argument).

To be clear, I don't necessarily think this is a good development — but it's just a fact that I've begun explaining my behavior with my astrological sign with less and less irony each time.

You could also say this is France rubbing off on me too, imbuing, as it does, one with confidence that you can be bluntly candid with someone, have a proper argument, and your relationship won't be irreparably damaged. I have always enjoyed a good banter-y debate and, as they say, here it is a national sport. (Where the French and I differ is that I think it's fun to argue about whether a hot dog is a sandwich or the ending of The Leftovers; the French think it's equally fun to debate, like, human rights. I will argue with you over the tenets of fundamental human decency, but it's not my idea of a good time and I am certainly not gonna leave the conversation with no hard feelings.) In any case, particularly in the work place, I have learned that I can go full Aries and stand my ground and be kind of sassy when presented with unmitigated bullshit and ... it's fine? Effective, even.

(That said, I did have a stress dream that one of the coworkers I was direct with sent me a series of Slack messages about how hard it is to work with my callous attitude so — clearly, my subconscious has not got the memo that we're embracing Aries-dom now.)

(A more fun sidebar: The other day, after I had written a draft of the France paragraph, I was at a beer garden trying something called "viere" and a new friend gave the exact same "hot dog vs. human rights" comparison talking about different types of fighting and I got so excited. Also, she's a Leo and the internet tells me that means we will be "a rowdy BFF pairing that makes for some awesome gossip, debates, and adventures." How fun!)

Hmmmmmmmm.

Anyways, with respect to astrology as a whole, I would call myself a passive enthusiast with short-term memory loss. I do not remember the character types well enough to really understand when someone says "it's the Taurus in me" or "classic Aquarius." I am largely self-involved about it (an Aries trait?) in that I really only know the attributes of my own sign(s), and even those, barely — I had to google Aries characteristics to even write this.

That said, I really do love it when people who do know astrology better than me talk signs and I have been greatly amused by Costar ever since my friend and I set it up over a dinner last fall. While I know I've missed the boat by a couple years on everyone sharing their Costar notification negging, I'd be remiss not to mention those notifications are absolutely absurd and an utter delight. (For the uninitiated, a selection of the literal dozens of screenshots I have taken: "Don't let this world make you lose your mind and heart in exchange for its sordid protection." "Pests can become pets." "Your heart is a giant ocean liner sailing on stormy seas." "Almost touch.")

I cannot get enough of indulging my more knowledgeable friends when they want to know the sign of a coworker I'm in conflict with or a guy I've gone out with so that we can check our compatibility or decide if that chaotic project management style is a product of astrology. It's just that I simply forget everything I read or learned the minute I close the tab or the conversation moves on.

In short, I find it immensely enjoyable to recognize yourself or your life in something you seemingly had nothing to do with, even when you know it's simply an optical illusion of the mind — the creation of which, in fact, you had everything to do with. Unfortunately, as someone whose horoscope reading starts and ends with Costar, that particular app's algorithm's startlingly shallow depth of copy means that the impersonal truth of the form is not only heightened but rendered transparent exceedingly quickly. It's not the best app for this facilitating this fantasy, is what I'm saying.

Sure, yeah.

‎I'm reading this French historical fiction book from 1968. It's called L'Oeuvre au Noir, or The Abyss, if you prefer, by Marguerite Yourcenar — the first woman admitted to the French Academy. I won't lie: The first 50 pages had me extremely sus of the taste of the person who recommended it to me, but then there was a chapter that focused on the Munster Rebellion which fully read like Waco and the combination of a cult tangent and a few literary bangers worthy of writing down has led me to reconsider my opinion.

In any case, at one point, she is describing this character's affinity for horoscopes and, as translated by her partner, the only person she trusted to translate her writing (goals amirite), she writes, "Erik was of those who prefer to receive their destinies from without, whether out of pride, finding it meet that the heavens themselves should take concern for his fate, or whether from indolence, so as not to be obliged to answer for the good or evil which he bore within him."

While I am not so much of an Aries to think that high powers are concerned with my life, the latter attraction is, very much I think, the primary draw for us passive astrology enthusiasts — the momentary indulgence that whatever you're doing or feeling is not your fault, it's the stars. Or, rather and as well, affirmation that your feelings of frustration or attraction are not irrational, they are ordained. That our personalities, too, are beyond our control.

It is, after all, nicer to believe that I am becoming more of an Aries than it is to think I am becoming more of an asshole.

A Related Viewing Rec: An Astrological Guide for Broken Hearts (Netflix)

On the subject of astrology, I would also like to recommend a CHARMING Italian rom-com series on Netflix called An Astrological Guide for Broken Hearts. It follows a recently heartbroken woman who meets a man who is a veritable astrology expert (and true believer). They become fast friends as he guides her love life with astrological advice and they also pitch and sell a game show around the concept so there's much discussion of signs and personality types and compatibility. Anyways, it's all very cute. Good vicarious travel too.

We will talk, some other time, about the impending implosion of Netflix — about which I have several thoughts I have yet to form into coherent sentences — but for as long as it seems like most people still have their subscriptions, might as well enjoy the gems buried there.