Thank God It’s Leo Season Again

You already know what type of time I’m on.

Whitney Houston, a Leo, performing in Belgium at the age of 24. (Photo: Goedefroit Music/Getty Images)

In May, I’ll have lived in New York for ten years, but I only went to Coney Island for the first time last weekend. It was partly cloudy with spots of misting; the delayed F train, which Google Maps warned me was running 45 minutes behind schedule, screeched to a halt 23 minutes early. My whole afternoon was propelled by a sense of “why not? It’s summer!” Spend the day with a new group of friends. Buy the ticket (for an amusement park), take the ride (even when there are seats blocked off by caution tape to your left and right). We walked the boardwalk and passed a middle-aged DJ playing house-soul remixes for a half dozen septuagenarians. A woman pulled out a bottle of baby powder and sprinkled it on the boardwalk like an offering so she could vogue without slipping. That’s how hard I want to summer!

I have no feelings about astrology, but I have every feeling about being a Leo. One of my friends said the most Leo thing about me was that I didn’t know anything else about the other signs. I shrugged. Why should I! I’m Miranda Priestly in the backseat of the town car, icy and glamorous: “Don’t be ridiculous, everybody wants this. Everybody wants to be us.” She steps out of the car and into a flash of the cameras.