Taurus (April 20-May 20): One element of the Cinderella story especially intrigues me. After the clock struck 12, everything the fairy godmother gave her disappeared or devolved. The fine coach turned back into a pumpkin, her gorgeous dress was replaced by tattered rags, etc. -- except for one thing: her glass slippers. They remained intact. She kept one and the prince retrieved the other. And they of course were the most valuable items of all, since they were the heroine's key to her new destiny. Right now, Taurus, you may be in a funk equivalent to Cinderella's post-midnight deflation. But I believe you still have your own personal equivalent of the glass slipper.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): One of the dictionary's definitions for the verb "prostitute" is "to use one's talents or resources in an unworthy manner." In other words, there are plenty of ways to prostitute yourself that don't involve selling sexual favors. Everyone I know, including me, has fit this description at one time or another. Let's be fair and acknowledge that sometimes there's no alternative; you literally won't survive unless you whore your beautiful self out to whomever pays you. But I'd like you to inquire as to whether there isn't at least one place in your life where this is no longer necessary. If so, it's a perfect moment to withdraw.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): As both your wisdom and your ego swell to the next largest size, you'll find that not only your generosity but also your selfishness will have far greater impact than usual on all your subjects ... I mean on all your friends and loved ones and associates. When you're good, you will be Super-Crab, inspiring everyone to live more useful, bountiful lives. When you're bad, you'll be the devil's lackey on angel dust, influencing folks to obey the crippled aspects of their will.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): You are now communing with a subliminal message, Leo. BMW bouquet God lickfest. On a conscious level, you won't know what the hell I'm talking about, but your subconscious mind will record and remember all the intensely inspiring vibes contained herein. Slam-dunk peak-experience blueprint. And as we all know, 95 percent of your mental activity occurs subconsciously. Pain-reliever flushed cheeks lucky dog dream-treasure. That's why I have confidence that after reading this horoscope just five times, you will be fully on the road to the sweetest power spot you've been privileged to enjoy in more than three years. Moist hot laughing bloom.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Imagine going out to a fun new spot but all the while obsessing on some trivial slight inflicted on you earlier in the day. Imagine answering the phone to chat with a notorious time-waster right in the midst of making love. Imagine savoring a four-course feast and then heading straight to the gym because you feel guilty about having enjoyed yourself so much. Finally, imagine that in prodding you to visualize these parodies of your current tendencies, I've shocked you into coming to your senses. Now promise not to be mean to yourself in the week ahead.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): In a poll of 106 pagan tantric astrologers, you Libras were prophesied to be the Sexiest Creature of the Zodiac for the astrological month of Taurus (April 20-May 20). I suggest you begin getting ready to take advantage of your increased foxiness. For instance, you could accomplish a lot of extra work in the next few days so you'll have plenty of leisure time available to devote to the wild thing. If you're single, you might leak seductive signals in the direction of sweet things you'd like to pounce on in a little while. Finally, start thinking about what inhibitions you'd like to explode out of and what dormant reserves of libido-driven creativity you'd like to tap into.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Metaphorically speaking, you've endured enough snake bites and scorpion stings in the past four weeks to fill your quota for all of 1998. That's what you get, I guess, from hanging out in the sulfurous suburbs of hell. You may think there's some glamour in this torture, Scorpio, but I don't. And I've decided to drag you up out of the pit whether you're ready or not. I therefore command you to vacate the premises immediately, and climb up to the good Earth with the rest of us. And wipe those fire ants off your arms, please. Pull the thorns out of your feet. Smile, even if you don't feel like it, because a little fakery might be necessary at first to break the spell you're under.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Say a grateful goodbye, at least for now, to cartwheel love and funny-bone love and wisely foolish love and meaningful-gibberish love. Meanwhile, get ready to bid a husky hello to slow, murky love, insurrectionist love, lost-and-found love, confused-but-smiling love, soul-in-the-labyrinth love, and unspeakable-name-of-God love. Yesterday's version actually has more in common with tomorrow's version than you know, though that may not become apparent to you for a few weeks.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Researchers at Real Astrology's multinational headquarters have proved that hugging yourself brings tangible healing benefits. They've found that the self-embrace is far more than a comforting symbolic gesture; it actually produces changes in your brain chemistry that make you less likely to make dumb decisions when you feel lonely and unappreciated. The minimum requirement is one four-minute cuddle with yourself three times a day while in a standing position. For even better results, include liberal caressing of your head, shoulders, and arms during those embraces, and add two 10-minute bear hugs while lying on a bed.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): In the old temples of Egypt, the holiest place was a room within a room within a room -- sometimes as many as eight nested layers deep. To arrive at the heart, you had to negotiate your way through a host of different environments, each of which required you to master a new challenge. I bring this up, Aquarius, because I believe you're at the metaphorical equivalent of the third room away from the innermost sanctuary. Don't stop now.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): I have a sneaking suspicion that you're feeling a little like an airline pilot who's been asked to captain a creaky tugboat; or like a wise old saint, fresh from the mountaintop, who's being badgered by journalists to name her favorite Spice Girl. I know you must feel awkward and out of place right about now, Pisces. This too shall pass, I assure you -- though not before you've figured out how to feel absolutely centered and at peace in the midst of the warped vortex.