I lost my hot pants, along with several other items over the past month.  I’m no airhead, really – I don’t lose things. So I took it as a sign. That maybe…maybe I should take full advantage of the divination spectrum that my craft, astrology, offers, by asking the stars for a little wassup? It’s been necessary. First, my cell phone charger -and then- my hot pants, both equally vital to my existence: mainly a girl needs to communicate, and a girl needs to dance. The good news is I recovered both. In fact, batting 3 for 3, horary astrology has saved my rump and my pocketbook every time – literally.

They just went missing last week: with a new slew of rehearsals just I was forced to dance in boring jazz pants. And what can I say: no fishnets, no fun!

Bemoaning their loss, and dreading the inevitable ponying up of funds to replace them, I complain to my husband. He suggests that leaving them somewhere, even accidentally dropping them en route from gym to car to studio, is highly out of character for moi. A light bulb clicks. At 8:50 AM Saturday, May 24, 2008, I perplexedly exclaim “where are my hot pants?!!” Remembering this time, I immediately make haste toward the day.

At a quieter moment that night, I drew up the chart that using the Regiomontanus house system. The querent (or questioner) aka me is signified by the rising sign. It is Cancer. I am a Cancer, so this fits nicely – ’tis always nice to have agreement. The ruler describes me to a “t” too. The Moon rules Cancer, she’s in Capricorn (to her detriment) in the 7th house of partnerships- also near Jupiter. I am in a bad way looking for my hot pants, and talking to my husband (7th house) about it, but Jupiter, the protective beneficent is also nearby. This is a positive sign for recovery of said pants.

The next step is assigning a house for the hot pants, and there are two houses assigned to missing objects and . House 2 owns possessions & movable objects; while House 4 owns immovable objects and buried treasure. Well it could be buried, but I’m leaning toward movable objects. John Frawley, author of The Horary Textbook, my constant companion during times of questioning, narrows down the dilemma – the house ruler that better describes the item sought is the tie-breaker. Virgo rules the 4th, and although Virgo has that whole sacred sex priestess going, Mercury describes things like keys, paperwork, files.

Leo, however, has hot. And Mars is in Leo, smack on the cusp. Double hotness!

Here’s why I fall in love with horary every time: it’s so literal! No guesswork. What a relief for this mental craft. Mars in Leo is totally Mrs. hot pants.

Now I could complicate matters by saying the Quesited (the missing object) is signified by both Mars and the Sun (Leo’s ruler). However, horary is often at its best, when it’s interpreted simply. In terms of the complexity, locating missing objects, is how shall I say with due respect to the Gods – shallow diving. For many “of the moment” questions not everything is quite so straightforward; especially those involving people, with mixed motives and dual allegiances – making interpretation a more subtle art. What I have discovered re: missing objects is: your nose knows. So I go with Mars, and possibly the Sun as a secondary ruler. We’ll see where Mars takes me first.

Where Mars is tells me where I will find the hot pants. Mars is in the 2nd house. In the home, the 2nd house is: the kitchen, the storeroom, the room next to the entrance, the wardrobe, the closet. (Dang! The closet! I’ve looked there several times but maybe I should look again). My closet’s at best an organized mess, with boxes, shelves, little Ikea cubbies everywhere as closet space is the typical sacrifice any Bay Area woman must make.

To navigate the messy maze, I turn to Frawley again: “Once you have decided on a room, look at other factors of the planet’s placement for further information. Significator in a: Fire sign, somewhere hot. Near the walls. He also says, “A planet on the cusp of the house or at a change of sign within that house will show the object is near the door.”

My closet is literally all door only being a couple feet deep. So I assume what the chart is really doing is giving me a bitch slap, a dose of obviousness: Wake up Jessica! I’m right in front of your face. Hello?

With tail between legs, I go to my closet, dig around in the bins closest to the door and against the wall. I find my hot pants. Duh.

On a final note, while my little flirtation with horary is mere childs play, Horary astrology is a divine science and Spirit can be employed in service of any mundane question. I’ll never forget the ultimate Horary tale, explaining my reverent awe and fascination with the art. One of my teachers, after having really terrible dream that an air flight she was booked on would go fatally wrong, drew up a chart, and all indications said no. She didn’t make the trip. That same plane was hi-jacked.