This Week's Horoscope

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)

It lions its way into your nose, roaring and clawing through membrane with catalytic fury. I thought you were cute, until I heard you hoarsely snorting the vicious beast in an oh-so-classy bathroom stall, and your sex appeal virtually disappeared. Come out of there. Slide the latch and stand here next to me, in front of the mirror. Look at yourself. You may not be a genius supermodel, but what you have to work with ain't half-bad. So why all the props? This week, ditch the ugly crutches that help you feel smart and beautiful (while dragging you down), whether they take the form of white powder, poisonous liquid or codependency.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)

You may not be able to speak Canine, but you can reasonably assume that when your dog lies down at your feet both of you experience some degree of comfort and pleasure. It's just one minor example of the levels of communication you're capable of. Since the exotic creature you're trying to commune with this week is actually human, if completely unfamiliar in every other way, rest assured that some mutually beneficial arrangement is not only possible, it's likely. Just keep being sensitive to what you can do to make those (of all species) around you happy; they'll more than return the favor.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)

In degree of personal intensity, put it somewhere between a paper cut and passing a kidney stone. Place it on the scale higher than moving your home, but lower than moving a mountain, in terms of difficulty. Like all things transformational, it has elements of horror (somewhere betwixt noticing your thinning/graying/receding hair and breaking your hip), but the possible benefits and pleasure (sandwiched by winning the lottery and falling in love) should outweigh all else. In other words, don't fear it because it's intense. You? What happened the last time you got on a big, scary roller coaster? You screamed your head off, then got right back in line to ride it again.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)

Whether you've pricked your finger against the shiny spindle of the gold-thread-producing spinning wheel, the thorny projections of your own new growth or the jagged edges of someone's broken heart, it hurts. The source of pain is almost irrelevant; only your reaction to it matters. How disappointing if it keeps you from reaching out into uncertain places, because some of the most important treasures you've ever gotten or will get came from unknown territories just like those. You can't make yourself safe from the nicks and cuts life dishes out. Those risks are what make it worth it. Don't give up just because your adventurousness drew some blood.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)

Let the constant sitting and snacking begin. I applaud you for spending 38 percent less time than average glued to the news over the past few weeks. "I've got all the facts thus far," you thought, "so no need to keep rehashing the horror." Consequently, some of the impact hasn't hit home until now, when you have even less emotional slack than usual to deal with it. So don't. The pain isn't going anywhere, and you deserve a little downtime, after spending so much time doing instead of merely watching. This week, rent yourself a few video games, buy a wheelbarrow full of snacks and escape the world.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)

We all have our strengths. Jim wins Trivial Pursuit every time, I rock the Scrabble board and Peter's team always triumphs in Pictionary (they cheat). This internal diversity extends beyond board games, naturally, thankfully. Just because you haven't been winning the games you've been playing lately doesn't mean you're doomed to lose every game. Quit haunting the same parties, doing the same drugs and boinking the same people the same way. You're stuck in a fun-rut. Pluck yourself out of it; for every familiar recreation you partake in this week, make sure you do two that you've never tried before.

Aries (March 21-April 19)

The Monks of New Skete, NY, breed dogs and train "trouble dogs." Their monastery is at least partially supported by these ventures and their products?like several outstanding books (including The Art of Raising a Puppy, and How to Be Your Dog's Best Friend). The dogs living there lead a monastic lifestyle themselves, getting up early with their masters and accompanying them throughout the day. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement: the dogs get to spend the entire day with their human "pack," and the monks probably get some nonintrusive relief from their essential solitude and isolation. It's a great combination that works on so many levels, including making the monastery money. You're so close to creating a similar win-win-win-win situation; I hope you can grab some inspiration from this example to push you over the edge.

Taurus (April 20-May 20)

Winter lurks nearby, waiting to ambush unsuspecting sun-worshippers with its frigid malevolence. Don't scoff. Naturally, no one should be surprised by anything as basically predictable as a seasonal change. Yet, a similarly expected event is on the verge of catching you off-guard, or at least woefully underprepared. What's your excuse? The looming deadline (of whatever sort) didn't just suddenly appear. Instead of laughing at those idiots still wearing shorts (and freezing their knees off), wrap your scarf on tight and catch up on preparations for the "winter" that's hitting your house.

Gemini (May 21-June 20)

Don't fling the ring down the drain accidentally-on-purpose. Although your main "thing" seems to be cutting into your Alone Time and preventing or occluding much-needed self-reflection, resist throwing it away entirely. Ah, the demands of a relationship! The price sometimes seems a bit high, especially now, when you're craving freedom and mental solitude instead of the sex or intimacy you thought you wanted a while back. I understand and support your current desire for quiet contemplation. Just remember how quickly these moods of yours can change. By the time you finish breaking up with your jealous lover, you'll probably want her back. There's got to be an easier way to get the downtime you need. This week, find it.

In their secretive war on terrorism, the U.S. plans to adopt some very Cancerian strategies. Like you, it plans to veil its actions and intentions, so the situation can be more deftly manipulated. Whether you respect Bush's goal of ridding the world of evildoers or not, examine his methods. Sometimes obfuscation is necessary to your goals. But it's not universally appreciated. Give up the smokescreen on at least some of your agendas and let the people involved know explicitly what's going on. It'll not only improve your chances of achieving those objectives, but it'll be a more effective facade for your more covert operations than you could possibly imagine.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)

Today, I seethe. How dare anyone act with so much vicious, self-declared authority? I'm not interested in hearing feeble justifications. Anyone's high ground quivers on gelatinous moral landfill when his actions subtract choices from other lives. It's a dangerous line that should be rarely, and thoughtfully, overstepped. And no act?like crashing a plane into a building?should ever take away someone's right to live. Because of your primarily up-front nature, you've mostly kept free of questionable karma. Thank you for that. This week, don't succumb to the minor temptations that will beset you to be sneaky. Say what you're going to do, then do it.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)

Since when did you become such a prankster? Wile E., I should call you. You didn't always have time for practical jokes. I can only conclude that, contrary to your master plan, the lazy loafers you occasionally surround yourself with are rubbing off on you, instead of you on them. That's not always a bad thing. In this case, I'm happy to be the butt of your cleverly planned tricks. But I'm concerned about some of the other less-savory aspects of your slacker buds, specifically their rampant flakiness. I see the first symptoms of unreliability all over you like a rash. Maintain your effectiveness. In other words, keep making time for jokes, but don't become one.

[Caeriel@yahoo.com](mailto:caeriel@nypress.com)