Opinion | Serious March horoscopes

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): As winter comes to a close, it is important to remember those who were strong throughout the season. We must remember the men who wore shorts, a sweatshirt and slides in 30-degree weather. Remember all those who still brought iced coffee to class, fighting against frigid wind chills. All those who wore sneakers to walk to class, sliding on those icy South Oakland streets before reaching the multi-colored salted sidewalks of the University. Why did these people express such courage? Such grace? I could not tell you, Aquarius. But they did, and now, these personas will enter a well-deserved hibernation.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): A haiku about perseverance for the Pisces:

When hope is fleeting

And writing final papers

Or studying hurts

Remember who you

Are and that Cathy is stunning.

She’s better than you.

Aries (March 21-April 19): Ponder this proverb: “A watched pot never boils.” Now Aries, you might wonder what this has to do with you. Well, apparently you’ve been staring down this poor little pot, waiting for it to boil. You’re making it self-conscious with all your looks and expectations. Gosh, you’re giving it performance anxiety. Just set it down and let it do its thing. It’ll boil your pierogies when they’re good and ready. Until then, you’ll just have to be hungry — and really, you deserve it.

Taurus (April 20-May 20): The Girl Scouts are back. You know what this means, don’t you, Taurus? It means you need to lock your doors and freeze your accounts. No grocery store or work place is safe until you submit to the savvy little girls and their delicious cookies. Heather from Troop 145 will not rest until you buy a box of Thin Mints.

Gemini (May 21-June 20): Welcome to McDonalds, what would you like to order? Today we have a special sandwich. It’s called The Destroyer. Oh that? Well, it’s a burger we found outside. It used to be good, it kind of went bad, but my manager said we have to sell it. Yeah, it’s bad. It killed a man in the parking lot, just took him right out. So I call it The Destroyer. Yeah, I think it would be good with Mac sauce on it. I’ll put that order right in. Will that be all for today? First window, pull up.

Cancer (June 21-July 22): Switch it up a bit, Cancer! Wear that outfit you bought for special occasions. Life is a special occasion! Have you ever used conditioner before shampoo? Hydrate your hair! Start a revolution! Lead a small army! Lead a bigger army! Find a following, create a cause and eventually die a martyr after accumulating a questionable amount of power. The world is your oyster. All you have to do is step outside of your routine, little crab.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): Live like your dog, Leo. Hang your head out the window of your car. Bark at strangers as they pass your house. Lick your loved ones. Life is hard, and it’s just you and your squeaky alligator toy, Mr. Snappy, out here in this cruel, cruel world.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Life is like The Wizard of Oz, Virgo. It’s filled with the constant feeling of not knowing exactly where you are, but knowing that you’re certainly not in Kansas anymore. My advice to you is to make a home wherever you are. That house that fell on the witch? Take her shoes and her keys — take her wallet, even. That’s your house now.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): This month, I see you in need of a zen moment, Libra. Take some time out of your busy day to care for yourself. No matter what you’re doing, no matter the location, find a spot on the ground and just sit there with your legs crossed, hands out, welcoming those good vibes. Picture the ocean. Picture the power. Imagine the ocean consuming some jerk 6-year-old’s sand castle. Take that, Aiden. Smile to yourself as you replay this scene over and over again. Now get up and place your head under the sink. Turn the water on, close your eyes and hear the ocean. Feel the ocean in the form of Pittsburgh tap water. You can manifest this energy. You are powerful.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Put on your best all-black outfit, Scorpio. This month, it’s time to be bad. Here’s what you’re going to do. Zipline down into the College Board office. Now do a very cool somersault past the security desk. Tiptoe down the hallway, hugging the wall, sneaking around until you find a room labeled “Every SAT Score Ever.” If it’s locked, simply kick it down with all the karate knowledge you learned from photoshopping your face onto Bruce Lee’s body. Once you’re in, find your SAT scores. Now — and please be careful — uncap your white-out pen and cover your original test scores. With your regular pen, write in a new number. Blow on the page until it is dry and you feel sufficiently cool. Return things to their place and leave immediately, you scandalous scorpion. You did it.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): This month, try out this new recipe. Beat one cup of granulated sugar and one stick of unsalted butter. Then add two eggs, whisking well. In a separate bowl, mash three bananas, and add a tablespoon of milk and a teaspoon of cinnamon. Add the bananas to the butter and sugar mixture. Combine this new, mega mixture with two cups of flour, a teaspoon of baking soda and a teaspoon of baking powder. Then add a fist full of confetti, a few little doll shoes and some sunshine — if you did not harvest your own, store-bought is fine. Put the mixture into a loaf pan and bake at 325 degrees for one hour. Smell the aroma of bananas and burnt plastic, Sagittarius. You have now made the happiest banana bread on the planet.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): It’s tax season, Capricorn, and there are some big changes in store for you! It’s time to count up all that money you’ve made this year, fill out some forms and send it to the government. And by it, we mean bees. That’s right, you frugal little goat — this year the IRS wants bees instead of money. The bees should be packaged in a discrete, sealed box with a couple of small holes punched in it. If you’re lucky, the government might send you a box of bees!

Allison Dantinne primarily writes satire and humor for The Pitt News. Write to Allison at and163@pitt.edu