ARIES (March 21-April 19): Aries actress Lara Flynn Boyle was a presenter at the Golden Globe Awards ceremony on January 19. She wore a pink ballerina outfit, complete with a poufy tutu, that was appropriate for an eight-year-old girl doing a dance recital. Despite her outrageously comical getup, Boyle never cracked a hint of a playful smile while on camera. Her expression was at best piercing, at worst glowering. There was, in other words, a huge discrepancy between her apparent desire to have fun, as suggested by her costume, and her almost scary intensity. In contrast to Boyle’s inability to synthesize the two sides of her Aries nature, I hope you will find the perfect blend of ferocious concentration and cheerful friskiness in the coming week.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Many college football bowl games now include their corporate sponsors in their names: the FedEx Orange Bowl and Nokia Sugar Bowl, for instance. Some financially strapped public schools near where I live may soon go the same route. This is an excellent time for you Tauruses to look for a comparable branding opportunity. Maybe you could get a playground or park bench or bridge named after you. According to the astrological omens, your power to stamp your identity on your environment is at a peak.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): “Dear Dr. Brezsny: I’ve been told by astrologers that I’m a natural money magnet. So why am I still poor? I pray constantly to the Almighty for financial help, and twice a week I buy lottery tickets. But no luck has come my way! Please tell me whether I will win the lottery. Better yet, give me the magic winning numbers.—Gemini Who’s Crazy for Green.” Dear Crazy: You’ll never win the lottery with your current approach. The only chance you have to generate luck of that magnitude will be if you work your ass off for the next two years to create your dream job.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): “Use it or lose it” has long been a key dogma in the theory of evolution. Biologists have believed that if a species accidentally develops a certain new characteristic but then fails to incorporate it as a vital feature, that characteristic is gone forever. Recently, however, researchers have begun to question this tenet. They’ve found evidence that the “walking stick” insects known as phasmids have, over the last 300 million years, lost their wings because of disuse but then re-evolved them. I bring this up in the hope that it will encourage you, Cancerian, to recognize an equally improbable scenario in your own life: The omens say you’re about to get a second chance to capitalize on an advantage you allowed to atrophy in the past.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Have you ever felt a tension between your drive to be yourself and your longing to be in love? I’m guessing you did last September, when Jupiter and Neptune were opposite each other in the sky. But when that planetary scenario recurs in the coming days, I suspect, you’ll be shown a way to resolve that tension. And in early June, when Jupiter and Neptune take on the same configuration a third and last time, I predict you’ll have a breakthrough in which you dramatically harmonize your drive to express your unique beauty and your urge to blend your life with another’s.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Perfumes to avoid in the coming week if you’re female: Addict by Christian Dior, Envy by Gucci, Baby Doll by Yves Saint Laurent. Perfumes that will bring luck and intelligence: Sunflowers by Elizabeth Arden, Intuition by Estée Lauder, Vivid by Liz Claiborne. Colognes to avoid if you’re male: Obsession by Calvin Klein, Mania by Giorgio Armani, Egoïste by Chanel. Colognes that will inspire good fortune and insight: Truth by Calvin Klein, Wings by Giorgio Beverly Hills, Safari by Ralph Lauren, Horizon by Guy Laroche. (PS: All the scent names referred to above should also be regarded as metaphors.)
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): In ancient Rome, it was compulsory for everyone to learn how to gamble and throw dice from a young age. The ancient Greek legal system made it a criminal offense to remain sober during the yearly festival of Dionysus. In this tradition, I’m issuing the following mandate: By order of cosmic law, you must enjoy sexual pleasure in abundance during the coming week. But your quest for erotic joy must be free of compulsive behavior, and you must use all your Libran ingenuity to carry out your assignment with a spirit of love, fun, and generosity.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): It’s not easy to become yourself. Most people never figure out the trick. That’s usually because they have an unreliable connection with the one source that offers unfailing guidance: the still, small voice within. They’re distracted by the din of mildly interesting but useless information that our culture produces in abundance. You, on the other hand, are always pretty hot on the trail of finding out who you really are. That’s one of the perks of being born a Scorpio. And in the coming weeks, you’ll be able to tune in to your personal homing beacon better than ever. Prepare to receive instructions on how to become yourself twice as fast.
SAGITARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): I suspect that in most professions, from astrology to medicine, from engineering to poetry, the proportions are similar: About 10 percent of the practitioners are really bad, 20 percent are below average, 40 percent are mediocre, 20 percent are good, and 10 percent are masters. You shouldn’t assume that just because a physician has been treating patients for 15 years, he’s going to help you figure out how to guard your health; nor should you hand over your fate to the first astrologer whose ad appeals to you. This principle will be especially important to observe in the coming weeks, Sagittarius. Temper your native optimism with a robust dose of discrimination. Don’t just question authority; question every alleged truth, assumption, facade, spin, and official stance.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): “You’re a flash in the pan, Brezsny, a brief blip on the scene. I’ll still be here inspiring readers with my astrological advice long after you’re gone.” That was the curse a competitor flung at me more than two decades ago when we were both young horoscope columnists. It made me mad, and motivated me to make sure that his hateful remark would never come true. My detractor died in the early 1990s, failing to make good on his vow. I felt no joy in his demise; on the contrary, I’ve always been grateful to him for helping to inspire my tenacity. This week, Capricorn, your assignment is to think of a comparable story in your own life. Who laid a curse on you once upon a time? What have you done to neutralize it, and what spectacular magic can you pull off to escape it forever in the coming days?
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Chances are good you’ll dream of being naked in public sometime soon. This will be a relatively bad omen if it involves shame, but a very good omen if your predominant emotion in the dream is fun-loving pride. In either case, such a dream will signify your readiness—indeed, your urgent need—to reveal more of who you really are in your waking life. PS: For those of you with an ability to induce lucid dreams, here are two recommended scenarios: Dream of being gleefully naked while delivering a stirring oral report on the flight of eagles to your high school class; dream of being naked and wearing a crown of roses as you do what you do best in front of an equally naked audience.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): (Warning: The following horoscope contains a scene that may be unsuitable for prim dispositions. Read at your own risk.) According to my reading of the cosmic omens, you should take your inspiration from France’s King Louis XIV (1638-1715), who often conducted court business while seated on his toilet, which he regarded as his alternate throne. I’m not suggesting that you literally imitate the royal custom, Pisces, but I do recommend that you carry out an approximate metaphorical equivalent: As you carry on your business and social affairs in the coming week, eliminate waste and toxins.
Homework: Send your tricks for cultivating non-sappy happiness and unsentimental sublimity to me at firstname.lastname@example.org.