Taurus (April 20-May 20): Expect nothing this week, but ask for everything. Gently but gleefully smash one of your personal taboos. Jump for joy in a building that has always felt oppressive. Buck tradition with wit and compassion, not wrath and cynicism. Carry two gifts with you at all times in case you run into any fresh beauties who aren't lost in their own heads. Refuse to occupy the old niches, especially the ones you've trapped yourself in for the sake of peace and harmony. Live without a leader, without a role model, with no other teacher but your dreams.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): It doesn't matter whether you're single, unemployed, and living on a couch in your parents' spare room, or you're a high-powered, jet-setting executive who eats other VIPs for breakfast. You're going to have to slow down this week. If you're in the first category, that might mean lingering with each new TV show far longer than usual before hitting the remote and switching to the next channel. If you're the second type, I advise you to be more leisurely with your prey, never finishing the kill before lunch at the earliest.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): I was approached by a company doing product placement for an upcoming movie starring Ashley Judd and Ewan McGregor. "Think of the exposure!" the rep said. For only $120,000, he told me, Judd's character would regularly consult my horoscopes, and I'd get a cameo in the film playing myself. I might be tempted, my fellow Cancerians, if I had a spare pot of gold lying around the house. We Crabs, after all, are ripe to hit the big time, or at least a bigger time. Truthfully, though, we shouldn't have to make any giant sacrifices to do so. In fact, I advise you to take on a breathtaking new assignment only if it allows you to absolutely be yourself.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): If you had to, Leo, I bet you could strangle a 300-pound leopard with your bare hands this week. You're that strong. You're that maniacal. You're that unstoppable. For that matter, you could also probably stare down your mortal enemy or pulverize your most debilitating mental block or win every game of foosball that you play. I can foresee just one potential problem: You may be buzzing with so much power that you'll fritter it away on trivial or merely exhibitionist tasks. If I were you, I'd choose mental block-demolition over foosball conquests every time. And don't throttle any leopards unless you have no other choice.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Home is more than the physical structure where you live. It's not just the community that supports you and the land that feels most familiar. Home is also a state of mind in which you can see with your own eyes. I mention this, Virgo, because it's a ripe astrological moment for you to strengthen your commitment to this version of home. Now study this gem from the 12th-century Virgoan mystic, writer, and abbess Hildegard von Bingen: "We cannot live in a world that is interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a home. Part of the terror is to take back our own listening. To use our own voice. To see our own light."
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): If you're ever going to find a valuable family heirloom or memento that was lost many moons ago, this will be the week. Likewise if you've had hopes of reviving a neglected dream, a squandered opportunity, or a missing link: It's now or never. To what do we owe this sudden opening into the musty past? Let's just say that the planet of expansive pluckiness and the planet of magnetic responsiveness (Jupiter and Venus) are currently doing the wild thing in your House of Resurrection.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Last week I would have been justified in asking you to scrawl this Malay proverb in lipstick on your bathroom mirror: Don't think there are no crocodiles just because the water is calm. This week will be a very different story, however, Scorpio. To prepare you for the truly amusing funny business ahead, I have mutated the Malay proverb to convey your new astrological aspects. Please write the following in red ink on an index card and keep it under your pillow for the next 10 days. Don't think there are no golden apples just because the tree looks bare.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Who gives a cluck about global warming, the thinning of the ozone layer, and the loss of species diversity? You Sagittarians have more personal worries, like the cooling of once-heated passions, the thinning of your credibility, and a loss of face. Right? Wrong. You might not want to believe me, but I'm telling you the honest-to-Goddess truth: The more you work on problems that mostly affect other people, the less troublesome and distracting your own private dilemmas will be.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): You won't need to imbibe oysters or powdered rhinoceros horn to get turned on in the coming weeks, Capricorn. You ARE an aphrodisiac. In fact, your libido will naturally be broadcasting so many DO ME! subliminals that you'll probably have to tone yourself down just to stay quasi-respectable. Don't tone yourself down too much, though. Have at least as much fun making love as you usually do making money.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): The time warp you're entering could warp the warped part of your psyche back to normal. Of course this might be hard to explain to casual observers. They might imagine you're wrestling with imaginary dinosaurs or chatting with the flowers on the upholstery. But those of us who speak the uncanny language of the soul know that you're balancing and canceling out the follies and sins of yesteryear. (Forgive me for invoking that tacky word "sin." I'm not using it in the usual sense. In the soul's language it means "to be lazy about following one's dreams.")
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): A Japanese computer ace named Yasumasa Kanada holds the world's record for calculating the most precise value of pi, an important mathematical measure. Thanks to his obsessive efforts, pi is now estimated to be 3 plus a small fraction carried out to 51.5 billion decimal digits. I predict, however, that very soon an overwrought Piscean brain somewhere in the world will make an even more exact accounting of the elusive number -- perhaps to as many as a trillion decimal places. Why do I expect this curious feat? Because the expansive, telescopic thinking that you Pisceans specialize in is about to turn inside out, and become acutely microscopic. If it's true that the genius is in the details, you'll be a mastermind.