SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21) "Excuse me while I go powder my nose." What a charming comment to hear at dinnertime, springing dryly from the mouth of the very un-girlish bulldyke I'm dining with, who'd like most people to believe that she's never worn makeup in her life. It would be obnoxious coming from anyone who meant it seriously. Likewise, "I gotta piss like a racehorse," could be an appropriately rude and sexy statement spilling from the lips of a Southern debutante who is usually painfully polite. Being a bundle of contradictions is actually cool these days, which is why you Scorps are at the top of the stack. So why are you going so far out of your way to conform to just one ideal? Enlist your inconsistencies, and get out there to tweak some heads.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) You've (finally) completed the emotional equivalent of "Basket-weaving 101." Woohoo! Okay, that's enough. There's no time for congratulations?you have to leap immediately into the Advanced Quantum Physics level of your emotional development. Oh, quit griping. You've been solving issues of Relationship Relativity, Inter-dimensional Personal Time-Space and Subatomic Grudge Detection for quite some time now. Why not take what you've learned and apply it in a broader, more professional arena, instead of the minimum-wage amateur level you've been operating on? Don't expect an increase in pay, though?being the good guy is still a pretty low-budget operation. But I hear the benefits are incredible.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) You could spend hours on the beach waving a metal detector over the sand, but don't. Forget the 57 cents you'd get for hours of effort. Instead, enjoy the fading heat of summer. Try to get some hint of a tan before winter comes and people mistake you for a ghost again. You could save every penny you earn after bills. Or, you could promise to treat yourself to something exciting at least once a week, so you don't completely forget how to have fun. You're about as likely to get rich as to find a reasonably priced apartment in Manhattan. So why try? You've been putting off enjoyment of life too long. With my assurance that you can't move up your economic ladder this week no matter how hard you try, will you please make an attempt to simply relax and feel alive?
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) Hey, Gramps. Whoa, hey?don't hit me. That comment's about your behavior, not your age. You've been lurking in the dark basement of your mind, watching slide shows and Super 8 movies from your past for some time now. This is all well and good?you've got to know yourself well to succeed wildly (as you have the potential to do) in the year to come. But you also have to prepare to emerge from the safe and shadowy place where you've mostly been hiding. Start coming out of your emotional closet, Aquarius. Adjust your eyes to the real world, so that when you gush from your hole like Old Faithful this winter, you won't be blinded by it.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20) The sky is gray, fluffy and dirty, covered with the fuzz of a thousand freshly shorn lambs. Thunder bleats from the horizon. Your grimly cozy environment is about to change, though. Any second now, that great Sheep Shearer in the Sky will pick up his broom and push some of the filthy wool out of the way, pinning you in a blinding shaft of unfamiliar illumination. So you're not used to this kind of attention. That's okay. You have some time to adjust. The sooner you do, the sooner this could become a moment of piercing illumination?the kind that has you up late and out of bed early?instead of the paralyzing brilliance you see now. In other words, outshine your own spotlight. You can.
ARIES (March 21-April 19) I'm worried about you, Aries. I'm concerned that your already marginal allotment of common sense is going to fly the coop like a wise turkey the day before Thanksgiving. Don't do anything that might qualify you for this year's Darwin Awards (given to those who eliminate themselves from the gene pool through their own stupidity). Do you really want to join the ranks of the guy who died swimming with a killer whale at Sea World (of hypothermia, probably), or the one crushed by his hungry pet python? Don't act dumb, Aries. Feed the hungry snakes in your life, and don't swim with bus-sized carnivores, at least not this week.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20) The morning after Hurricane Floyd dawned clear and bright. The only evidence of its passage was a fallen branch or two in the park, and the primary victims of its force?a gaggle of blown-out umbrellas commiserating in public trash cans. The shit you've been dreading dealing with is a lot like Floyd: overhyped and anticlimactic when it finally arrives. It'll blow over quickly, leaving your mental barometer lower and more comfortable than it's been in months, and your visibility higher than it's been in even longer than that.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20) Get up, you fat, lazy slug! Actually, I've rarely encountered a fat or lazy Gemini. It's your emotions that are loafing up on the beach like a walrus, tusks in the air, blubber aquiver. Quit barking at the sky and waving your sloppy limbs around ineffectually. The difficulties of life in the ocean with the rest of us await. Put your tail in a sling, and slog back into the depths. Once you arrive in the deep sea, you'll find that your flippers, inefficient on land, are marvels of self-propulsion, and you're as agile as any dolphin or sea otter. So stop being a dick and roll into the waves, Moby.
CANCER (June 21-July 22) I'm thinking about lopping off my dredlocks. It's because I've been channeling you, Cancer, and your tempestuous craving for?or at least surrender to?relentless change. The full moon in Aries in the wee hours of Saturday morning could wake you up from a sound sleep, or inspire you to new levels of revelry, if you're already up late. I hope you've learned by now to mount and ride these chargers when they come blasting through your inner landscape. This one might be hard to saddle. But if you can, you ought to be able to gallop most of the way into next year.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22) If my heart were a blazing star, there'd be a sunspot just for you, Leo, blasting you with radioactive love. Maybe you'll mutate. I'm hoping you won't end up with an extra head, breast or foot. On the other hand, having the input of another mind on your current dilemma could be useful. And that extra dose of nurture, for yourself or those around you, is in high demand. Finally, if an extra foot could increase your speed, I can't say it would be a bad idea. You have been practically begging for a kick in the butt to get to your goal?or at least figure out what it is!
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) Congrats, Virgo. I'm impressed. You've been a virtual bloodhound of intuition, following the twisty and patchy signals of your own hunches like a dog on the scent of a furtive criminal. You might consider resting back on your haunches this week, laying out and examining the evidence you've collected so far?but don't. Despite the vibrant insights that might give you, the trail you're following is only getting colder. I urge you: Don't give up now, when the focus of your chase is so near at hand.