This Week's Horoscope

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22) Negative ions are often in the air around moving water, especially waterfalls. They engender a feeling of mental clarity and lightness of being. Positive ions tend to make you feel lethargic, unmotivated, cloudy, a victim of your moods. My theory is that people tend to generate ions as well. You know these people: They come into a room like a breeze from the beer cooler, and flood those in the room with a sense of well-being. There are also those folks who cover a party like a piss-soaked blanket. I know you strive for even-keeled neutrality, but because of the overabundance of spirit dampeners, both in ion and human form, this week, we?re counting on you to restore the balance.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21) Remember that dorky 80s movie, Weird Science, in which a pair of geeks use a computer to create their dream date? If I were to create my own current boyfriend fantasy he?d be kind and confident, wear his body like an animal, with wicked sideburns, tiny nipples and an adventurous, evil gleam in his eyes. I mention it because even though I don?t have the power to self-indulgently create my own reality to this degree this week, you do.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) You could look on this week as a giant yellow zit. You could get really grossed out and hide out all week or cover it over with skin-tone cover-up makeup. Or you could own it, squeezing the whitehead until it satisfyingly pops all over your bathroom mirror. The longer you agonize about the disgusting but guilty pleasures of this week, the bigger and more painful they?re going to get. Pop it! Own your own grossness!

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) There might be some elements of this week that are about as enjoyable as puking your guts out all night, then tenderly cradling your swollen head through a titanic migraine for almost a whole day, all because of a reckless drinking decision made the night before. The upside of a week as tough as this one is that once it?s over, I predict you?ll be happier, saner and more comfortable in your skin than you can remember being in a long, long time. And if your spiritual hangover doesn?t make your skin fit over your spirit like a 10-year-old pair of well-loved blue jeans, there?s always drinking.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) You?re in a sillier groove than Fatboy Slim, and more wildly goofy than Basement Jaxx. There?s something especially attractive about someone who can ride this vibe, who can seriously play, or playfully be serious. Instead of suppressing your contradictions, unfold them. If you can stretch them far enough in opposite directions, you?ll find they can touch, and even happily hold hands on the other side. Once you?ve molded this slightly clumsy pairing into a seamless force of joyful drive, you can turn your attention to mastering the arts of fearless anger, unembarrassed grief and inspired confusion.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20) I like cars with character. I?m especially partial to old Volvos, decades-old Volkswagens that work and beat-up old Dodge vans. You?ve been reminding me of this eclectic, elite automotive force. You?ve been bumped, scraped, collided with, broken into, stickered and just generally fucked up, yet you just keep clunking on. But even a classy old junker like you needs a little loving attention now and then, so if you?re not getting it, start honking your horn and flashing your lights until you?re taken in for a tenderhearted overhaul, or at least a new paint job.

Aries (March 21-April 19) I learned how to swim by watching the Olympics. I taught myself to write by reading and studying my favorite authors. I acquired various other skills (juggling, dancing, seduction) by observing masters at work. While it?s a useful practice to seek someone or something out that can teach you a desired skill, that?s not what I recommend for this week. Still casting yourself as student, imagine that every single person you encounter has something to teach you. Learn it well, because you?ll be in the role of teacher, not student, sooner than you think.

Taurus (April 20-May 20) The Sacred Battalion of Thebes of ancient Greece was composed entirely of pairs of lovers, and they were practically undefeated for 33 years. The idea was that nothing could inspire one to feats of valor and courageous achievement, while discouraging acts of cowardice or fear, more than the presence of one?s beloved. Although when taken to an extreme in this culture this kind of philosophy can be called codependence, it might be exactly the kick in the butt you need. As you contemplate and ultimately do the thing you?ve been fearing or dreading this week, imagine that the one you love most is watching you. How can you best impress them? It?s lover as catalyst to self-improvement, like Jack Nicholson?s famous line in As Good As It Gets: "You make me want to be a better man."

Gemini (May 21-June 20) Last night I dreamt you were in a band called The Unstoppables. This was symbolic of your inner drive to accomplish virtually anything you set your mind to, even achieving long-term success in a fickle and unfriendly corporatized music industry. You had the power to pull together a substantial and loyal fan base, sell records over decades instead of minutes, get along with your diverse bandmates during that time and somehow reap a reasonable portion of the profits from your label. It was your mission. Is there anything in your life that you can identify as your purpose? Practice saying it: "______ is the reason I was put on this planet, and nothing can derail me from doing it."

Cancer (June 21-July 22) I?m bored with magicians who pull doves, rabbits or tigers out of their silky black top hats. If you?ve been perpetuating this kind of unamazing cliche, shame on you, Cancer. Maybe you could pour yourself into the hat like a tall glass of water, or pull something useful out of it, like a cure for AIDS, a cheap and renewable energy source or a portable time machine. If you?re wasting your ability to perform real miracles on paltry sleight-of-hand tricks, stop! I?m warning you: If you don?t exercise those stiff and unused muscles and perform at least one minor miracle this week, your candidacy for sainthood (or martyrdom, really) could be called into question. Use it or lose it, baby.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22) The curtain closes, leaving you and the other performers swollen with adoration, applause echoing in your ears. Grateful, exhausted smiles grace the faces of each relieved artist. The run is over, an unqualified success. Now, you?re faced with the real world again, where the general public is not so wise to your unparalleled virtue. Will you take the show you?ve been doing all summer on the road, to new crowds? Or will you begin work on a stunning new project that may not be so tried and true as your last act, but could move more of the people within you? You have the next two weeks to decide.

Caeriel@yahoo.com