First, let it be clear that I’m not an astrology man. Being from the city, I barely see stars in the first place. The closest I get to celestial things is ordering springrolls at Tup Tim Thai, but I’m not a spicy man, so even then it’s only … 2 stars.

But when it comes to relationships, I’ll get guidance from anything that sounds good from Rumi, to Eddie Murphy, to this person to that thing. ‘Cause if I know anything it’s that as soon as something’s handled, sewn up and squared away it always seems to fall, eventually, apart. So until Genesis invents an Early Warning Out of Integrity Detector Device and an Automatic Relationship Restoration & Recalibration Team, I’ll make good all that is wonky by any means necessary. This week, the starry vault, the heavenly wheels have been the beacon, astrology the hero. And so, for Mother’s Day I found it only right and proper, truly wise to celebrate, by doing an online astrological compatability test and confronting my Mom with it. My sister’s gonna be a Mom soon too, and there’s my fiancee, so why not have a triple reading since triangles are the most durable shape, very strong because the hinges can never change. And here’s what the star’s have to say about me and all these Momma’s.

My Mom’s a Taurus. My sister a Taurus. My fiancee a Scorpio.

And right in the middle is me the Leo, beset on all sides by Bulls and Pincers.

Not good. In fact bad; definitely bad. A lionheart, charismatic, open, warm, loving … being pinned down in a ruthless ambush of horns, hooves and venomous stingers. The righteous traditionalism of my Mom and sister, and the sinister voodoo of my dominating fiancee, planning together, in cahoots, a clandestine, cloak and dagger maneuver to bring down the Generous Lion in what findyourfate.com calls, “the plotting of psychological parlor games.”

At first glance, the inevitable conclusion undoubtedly includes a self-preserving and merciless termination of all three relationships, clean clear cuts. The Taurus’s are too stubborn–they can’t be reasoned with. And they charge. And with 4 horns … maybe a double bladed matador could work the gamble, but, not me; not with a close quartered, Scorpion scuttling quietly behind me poised and taught to strike! I think the paranoia is quite logical given the credible sources. But this was only the first of an amateur inquisition. And so I thought further. Seeking answers in the stars, though I’m not a spicy man. And here’s what I got …

In the words of my 92 year old Grandma, an Aries Ram <more horns> May God Repay You and Your Children.

See I’m an Idea Man, my head’s in the clouds a lot of the time. And many of the best idea I’ve ever had I’ve never finished. And a lot of my charisma gets in the way of me being at peace. And the horns and stingers surrounding me in all sides keep the Lion from doing whatever the Lion wants whenever the Lion wants to.

So as much as I hate being boxed in and kept accountable, thank god for the structure, for how long could a LionHeart Beat if not for the cage around it, and how fast could a Dervish spin without its beautiful balance.

Besides, only 25 of the 1400 species of Scorpions are deadly to humans. The rest are there to keep on track the cats that stray, while the bulls run down the streets making all things incomplete run like mad towards the finish line, to who and what they were always meant to be.