On July 27, 1992, I came into this world (okay, into St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Brighton, if you call that the world) slightly premature under a constellation that resembled a lion, right in between my lunar and rising signs, Cancer and Virgo. I was destined to embody an astrological sign known for its audacity, creativity, honesty and amazing hair, one that rules over all other zodiacs — Leo. here is a source where one can find psychic reading that might help and guide one through life.
I remember in my early childhood I read a description of people who fell into this category — those with the birthday in the range of July 23 until Aug. 22. It described Leos as born leaders, a trait I have always embodied, whether on center stage dancing in a multi-layered tutu, or speaking in front of a group of writers or editors at The Daily Free Press.
My leadership trait, however, has gotten me into trouble on multiple occasions, especially when accompanied with my blatant sense of honesty. People under me have in the past regarded me as a demanding princess who must get everything she wants immediately.
I’m also overly dramatic. I lost a Barbie shoe when I was young (all right, last week) and cried for about 24 hours, and it was one of the worst days of my life. There was once another girl I knew named Sydney, and I made her change her name because there can only be one. Last summer when my hair straightener croaked, I was so despondent that I barely had it in me to go party that night lest someone should see me in such a state of depravity.
And don’t even get me started on my birthday: It’s normally a three-day explosion of colorful balloons, cupcakes and cannon-balling corks. Let’s just say that last year upon arrival at my first birthday destination, I stumbled up to the host podium at a swanky D.C. restaurant in my heels to confirm dinner reservations only to discover that this man was in fact the valet parking attendant and could not seat us.
Leos can be the most warm, loving creatures of all the zodiacs, too. I won’t catalogue every act of kindness I’ve done in my two decades, but I’m generous with my time and resources to anyone who asks for them. If you’re friends with a Leo and can tolerate occasional dramatic antics, they’re keepers.
Astrological signs reveal a lot about someone’s personality, but I don’t believe that reading horoscopes on a day-to-day basis is exceptionally useful. I’ve been able to tell numerous people their signs without even knowing their birthdays based on physical features and personalities, which makes for entertaining cocktail-hour conversation.
But to those well versed in astrology, I guess I come off as an apparent Leo. I once said my birth date in front of a group of people, to which one replied, “She’s a Leo, all right!” followed up by an uproar of knowing laughter from everyone else. I can’t say I didn’t appreciate the attention.
Sydney L. Shea is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences and can be reached at slshea@bu.edu.
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