Today’s Horoscope: A Great Day for Pissaedae (Lat.)

by Lyza Fennell | May 6, 2025 | Writing

Today’s Horoscope: A Great Day for Pissaedae (Lat.)

In today’s horoscope, the astrological sign Pissaedae (Lat.) is going to have a great day. It’s a fresh start for a predictable life, which is just what the grumpy sign wants.

Wash away those cobwebs and sorrows, because tomorrow you’re going to Europe with your secret lover. Your clothes will be perfectly pressed, without a wrinkle or a speck of dust in sight when you open your suitcase.

You’re not going to be outed in Amsterdam today or anytime this month. Whether you’re 20 or 75, your belts are always keeping your pants up. And don’t worry, Pissaedae (Lat.)—your bootstraps are pulling you up for the month of May.

Watch out for muddy shoes! Keep those treads clean and it will be azaleas all day long.

This, of course, all depends on whether there is mud on your shoes—because if there is, you’ll trip on the shoes left in the hallway and get a bump on your knee. It will swell, and you’ll shout in agony. You’ll shout until your lover hears you and whisks you away to a cabin in the Catskills, promising to wipe all the mud off your shoes.

You know your luck has changed once you get breakfast in bed, which comprises fresh-picked strawberries found wild along the edge of the lake.

Unfortunately, there was a motorboat crash and oil leaked onto the strawberries and poisoned you. So you violently throw up and don’t know if you’ll survive—as you see fragments of bone and know that’s a sign of death.

You’ll plead with your lover, who has ipecac syrup, and it clears out all the toxins from your body.

You feel so great you strip off all your clothes and run into the lake. But you trip on a rock and break your toe. You land with your face in the water—which thankfully clears away your tears so nobody sees how much pain you’re in. But because nobody knew you were hurt, you start to weaken and drown in one inch of water.

But your lover finds you—and saves you!

Astrological sign: Pissy Days (Pissaedae)
Ruling Element: Damp
Symbol: Muddy Boot with Sunburst
Compatible Signs: Melanchorpius, Virgo Rising (but only when retrograde)

A Contrast of Personalities

by Lyza Fennell | Dec 11, 2024 | Writing

A Contrast of Personalities

This piece emerged from a writing exercise exploring extremes through repetition. The challenge was to begin each sentence with the same phrase, crafting one ‘good,’ one ‘bad,’ and one blending both into a complex narrative with a backstory.

Alvin is the kind of person who always pees in the shower. Alvin is the kind of person who swears in front of children. Alvin is the kind of person who punches monkeys. Alvin is the kind of person who shits in the woods. Alvin is the kind of person who licks engine oil. Alvin is the kind of person who always runs red lights. Alvin is the kind of person who has road rage. Alvin is the kind of person who votes for Trump. Alvin is the kind of person who loves being misogynistic, racist, homophobic, and transphobic. Alvin is the kind of person who draws swastikas. Alvin is the kind of person who doesn’t wear a condom and spreads STDs. Alvin is the kind of person they call a deadbeat dad. Alvin is the kind of person who cheated his ex-wife out of their house.

Mandy is the kind of person who whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Mandy is the kind of person who makes cut-out heart sandwiches. Mandy is the kind of person who puts six spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee. Mandy is the kind of person who mows your lawn and spells “I love you” in the grass. Mandy is the kind of person who jumps on the mic to declare her love for you to everyone in the room. Mandy always canvases in Pennsylvania during election time. Mandy always jumps in front of danger to protect you. Mandy is the kind of person who writes handwritten letters to everyone in her address book every Saturday night. Mandy is the kind of person who dresses up at parties.

Sandy is the kind of person who sneaks into a different movie—and then pays it forward. Sandy is the kind of person who sings loudly during movies—and buys popcorn for everyone in her row. Sandy is the kind of person who stiffs the cab driver—and tips the barista generously. Sandy is the kind of person who crosses the street outside the crosswalk—and always thanks drivers for stopping. Sandy is the kind of person who steals candy at the counter—and buys a newspaper to stay informed. Sandy is the kind of person who tells you to mind your fucking business—and massages your shoulders. Sandy is the kind of person who pays her bills late—and checks on her elderly neighbor. Sandy is the kind of person who drives through the yard after it rains, leaving deep muddy tracks—and makes you breakfast in bed. Sandy is the kind of person who cheats at Pinochle—and brings all the snacks. Sandy is the kind of person who unleashes rats in her enemies’ basements—and takes your dogs for a walk. Sandy is the kind of person who sues you—and covers your attorney’s fees. Sandy is the kind of person who burns the grilled cheese—and scrapes off the burnt bits.

Sandy had a terrible temper, but she always felt guilty. Her instincts told her to do something bad, but she always balanced it out. One day, the rat situation got out of hand. It took over her entire house and then the town. The town exterminator had to pull in help from neighboring areas, and in the end, they had to burn the entire town to the ground.

Why was Sandy like this? As a child, Sandy was kept in a cage in her parents’ home. They whipped her every time she made a mistake. She spent 1,000 days in that cage, marking each one on the wall until she was finally rescued. When the police took her parents away in handcuffs, Sandy told the officer, “Thank you very much. You rescued me. I’m very grateful.”

Her foster family tried to help her through intensive therapy, but it was too late. The trauma had rewired her. Sandy was manipulative. She never got caught, and someone else always took the blame. Sandy would watch and snicker before doing something kind to alleviate her guilt.

Eventually, Sandy became the CEO of a health insurance company. She denied coverage, causing people to spiral into medical debt and bankruptcy. But then she would write each of them a letter, full of kind words about how much she cared. When AI came into play, Sandy was particularly thrilled. The algorithms had a 90% error rate with denials, which maximized her profit. With that extra profit, Sandy built a morgue.

An Evening with Phineas ACT I, Scene One

by Lyza Fennell | Nov 10, 2024 | Playwriting

An Evening with Phineas ACT I, Scene One

Act I, Scene One

AT RISE: PIERCE and PAULA, a married couple, are sitting in their living room. PAULA is holding a planner and writing in it, while PIERCE is on his smartphone playing a game.

Living room has a couch and chair, coffee table, a liquor cabinet, shelves with family pictures, magazines and books on the table. A door to “outside” where people will enter and exit from. Stage Right will be the exit to the outside, Stage Left will be the exit to the other room. Kitchen needs a fridge, cabinets, it has a rectangular table, a desk with a computer.

PIERCE

Honey, I got “Genius” again on Spelling Bee. Boy, I must be a genius. That’s what the game tells me (sarcastic; laughs).

PAULA

(Facetiously) Oh, sure you are. A real genius.

PIERCE

Let’s go in the bedroom and screw.

PAULA

What? The kids are in the other room.

PIERCE

Boring! Come on, Paula, you are so dull. It’s the same thing every day.

PAULA

Speaking of that, can you take the garbage out?

PIERCE

(Stands up) What the hell, Paula? I just asked you to have sex with me, and you want me to take out the garbage? If that isn’t a metaphor for our marriage.

PAULA

Pierce, watch your language. The kids will hear you. And I’m sorry. I guess that was thoughtless of me.

PIERCE

That’s an understatement. Jesus, Paula. Something’s got to give. I mean, we’ve been together for twenty years. It’s turned into the same shit routine day after day.

PAULA

(Annoyed) Pierce, what can I say? I work, take care of the kids, pay bills, and clean. I’m kind of tired, don’t you think?

PIERCE takes her in his arms; lovingly, PAULA leans into him.

PIERCE

I know, Paula. You need a break. I want to take you away from all of this.

PAULA

I can’t go anywhere right now, you know that. The taxes are due next week.

PIERCE

Paula! For God’s sake. Humor me a little. How about I pour you a drink (Walks to the cabinet)? Come on, just a little; it will help you relax. (Beat) Ha! We should get trashed like the old days. Remember that? We stayed up all night—

PAULA

I know, I know, no need to say it. Give me a break, Pierce, we aren’t 25 anymore. We have obligations; we have children!

PIERCE

And we aren’t 100, either. Come on, live wild.

Looking into her eyes, holding her hands.

Like you used to be. (Beat) You’re so dull these days.

PAULA

I know, I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out right now. Once I finish these damn taxes, I’ll feel more like myself, I promise.

PIERCE

But there’s always something. You need to let go of some of that worry. The tasks aren’t going anywhere; they’ll still be here tomorrow. You can leave it one day.

PAULA

That’s just the problem. It(emph.) will all be there tomorrow. Can’t you take the kids to their activities today so I can work on the taxes?

PIERCE

Paula, come on, when did it get like this? It’s like we wake up to the same broken record every day: ‘Take the garbage out’; ‘Can you go to the store?’; ‘Did you pick up the mail?’ I’m not in this world for mundane bullshit. (Urging) Come on, Paula, we’re in our forties; we aren’t dead. You’ve got to be spontaneous; live a little!

He grabs her and kisses her passionately; she pushes away from the embrace. She has tears in her eyes. She moves to the kitchen, and he follows her.

PAULA

Not now, Pierce. I’m sorry I disappoint you. I have laundry to do and dinner to prep; the kids have their games today. What time is it? (She looks at the time.) Shit, I have to get ready. I don’t have time for this right now, Pierce.

PIERCE

Damn, Paula. You are killing me. I feel like I am suffocating.

PAULA

I know. I’m sorry. But I have to get the boys ready.

PIERCE comes up behind PAULA, trying to kiss her on the neck while she prepares sandwiches and snacks, putting them into a cooler bag. There’s a heaviness in the air; they love each other, but both feel sad and stuck.

PAULA

(Wiping a tear) Not now, Pierce. I’m sorry. I promise we can put the boys to bed and have a drink together as soon as I’m done with the taxes.

PIERCE

OK, OK, but there’s always something, Paula. You’re lucky to have me.

PAULA

I know. Thanks for understanding. I do love you. (Beat. Calls out) PATTEN! PAXTON!

ENTER PATTEN and PAXTON Stage Left, dressed for soccer.

PATTEN

Hey Mom, what did you pack to eat?

PAULA

Ham and cheese for you.

PAXTON

(Whining) What about me? I hate cheese.

PAULA

Please don’t say hate. It’s a terrible word. I know you don’t like cheese, don’t worry. Come on, let’s go. Say bye to your dad.

PATTEN

Bye, Dad.

PAXTON

Bye, Daddy.

PAULA

Bye, Pierce. I love you. We’ll be back around 4:00.

PIERCE

(Subdued) Yeah, have a good day, guys.

EXIT PATTEN, PAXTON, and PAULA Stage Left.

BLACKOUT

Black and white photo of a tattooed man sitting in a leather armchair, lighting a cigar. Text: Finding the Spark, one marriage at a time.Text SPARK to: THE-HOT-NITE. (don't actually text)

Synopsis: An Evening with Phineas delves into the complexities of long-term marriage, desire, and the allure of the unconventional. Pierce and Paula find their relationship stagnating in routine, leading Pierce to enlist the help of Phineas, a charismatic “Marriage Mentor” with unconventional methods. Phineas’s arrival disrupts their complacency, forcing Pierce and Paula to confront buried insecurities and deep-seated desires.

Through sharp dialogue and compelling character dynamics, An Evening with Phineas invites audiences to reflect on the complexities of love, the fragility of trust, and the pursuit of personal fulfillment.