January 02, 2013 | 10:53 AMCapricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
Keep trying, and you might graduate from fearsome allosaur to mighty T. Rex. You've already earned a reputation as a ruthless predator, and your unfortunate potential victims shrink from your toothy maw with justifiable terror. Do you really want to rampage your way through life? Especially when you could have those same weak cattle eating trustingly from your hand, instead of cringing whenever you approach? Lock your copy of Machiavelli's The Prince in a trunk and swallow the key. It's time to adopt some new methods (possible tutors: Glenda the Good Witch, Ammachi, or Santa Claus) and abandon your old ones before you become as extinct as the dinosaurs you stole them from.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
So you've been hurt before. Join the club. You broke your leg in seventeen places and now it's hard to walk without a limp, let alone run. Fine, but broken hearts aren't the same. Heal, already. You call parading scars and building protective walls sound strategy. I call it self-sabotage. Even a serially jilted bride must trust, if she hopes to ever have a happy honeymoon. Let your fiancé, buddy, or whoever you're taking emotional risks for have the power to screw you over. It's the only way they'll have a chance to show you how much they don't want to.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
The Olympic Committee has strict rules regarding genetically-enhanced athletes. They'd love to investigate your nearly superhuman ability to achieve great things with minimal effort, if they could. Don't be daunted by outside skepticism, judgment, or unfair restrictions, all of which you may encounter this week. Not using your superior endowments would be akin to those superjocks of the future refusing to use their catlike reflexes or gorilla-size strength just because the Olympic Committee said no. Pick and choose the arenas you'll compete in. You're lucky; so far, no one can stop you, no matter how much they'd like to.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
For years, you worked towards "living the dream." Now that you're so much closer to it (or already in it, whether you've realized that or not) you're surprised that the dream is so much quieter than you thought it'd be. The spotlight you're missing ain't all that. Ssshhh. Your habit is to crave excitement. But there are better things. For instance, excitement's been replaced by the feeling of contented peace and rightness you'd have right now, if only you'd stop craning your neck to spot the fireworks long enough to look inside and notice it.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Wow. I'm impressed: your spy network is thorough. Between the streaming webcams hidden in your ex's apartment and the network of binocular-wielding informants across the street, you miss very little. Your boss's clandestine night-life as a dominatrix, your neighbor's unfortunate penchant for girls with dogs (and I mean with dogs)—you've got something on everyone. Save yourself some money. Return the techno-equipment, cut back the kickbacks to your moles. Why? Because you already have access to this information. Your ex is dying to tell you exactly how many people they've slept with since you (and what they did), and your neighbor will delight in sharing stories about the chick with the Great Dane. The added advantage of asking for information rather than stealing it: you get to decide how much you want (or don't want) to know.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
Sometimes, I leave you running on automatic. You're so famously self-reliant, I trust you to take proper care of yourself, like a cat. Occasionally, though, you run into a problem. Call it a hairball, a sore tongue, or whatever you like, it's personally expensive. While you're choking on the consequences of your own independence, don't cling to it unnecessarily. Occasionally, it's okay to ask for a slap on the back, a soothing French kiss, or whatever you require. In fact, that's your mission this week: identify what it is you need the most, and ask for it from the person (besides yourself) most able to give it you.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
You require a daunting degree of emotional privacy and protection. However, you also need a powerful sense of human connection and intimacy. Being a Crab is pretty tricky. Resolving how to maintain your walls and feed your squishy interior is a worthy dilemma. You've gone too long without a working solution. This week, develop and articulate at least a preliminary strategy for making sure the right people are on the right side of your shell at the right times. Don't worry if it doesn't run smoothly at first—you have the rest of your life to tinker with it.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
Some couples get married while skydiving, climbing down the side of a skyscraper, or by Elvis in a Vegas wedding chapel. Some women give birth in taxicabs, warm baths, or at home surrounded by dozens of friends, singing. I admire their willingness to experience or create these life-changing moments in ways that are perfectly tailored to their own lives, instead of subscribing to the cookie-cutter traditions almost everyone else uses. It takes a lot of courage and self-knowledge to write your own version and make it happen. This week, start with making the day-to-day uniquely yours—by the time the next big milestone comes along, you should be able to own that, too.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
Your unfailing generosity has made you eligible for sainthood, again. Unfortunately, nomination for canonization has its price. The modeling sessions for stained glass masterworks, marble statues, and religious candle stickers can be grueling. The exhausting and endless requests for miracles, healings, and holy signs get old, too. Certainly don't cease the practices that earned you such honor in the first place. But you hardly need all the lame trappings that go with. Do something wicked this week, and you'll still have the gratitude of those you love, without all the awe and supplication from those you don't even know.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
Get out of the house! Now. Pretend there's a letter-bomb, an embarrassing incense fire, or a plague of radioactive cockroaches inside. Leaving your house shouldn't be a process. You can't prepare for every eventuality, so don't even try. This time, rush out empty-handed. Forget your cellphone or smokes. They won't matter—you're out to expand your territory, not rehash familiar stories you already know the endings of. Traveling light will aid your mission—you'll be able to go further abroad and do more interesting stuff if you don't have pockets full of precious junk weighing you down.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
Doctors claim to be immune to the lavish gifts, trips, and perks showered upon them by pharmaceutical companies, but statistically, they're much more likely to prescribe the marketed product after enjoying basketball tickets or a fancy dinner courtesy of its manufacturer. Your doctor should prescribe meds based on your own best interests, not on the rosy memories of her last pharmaceutical-funded ski vacation. While demanding that she pledge to be free from corporate "bribery," check yourself for hypocrisy. While not as grievous, you've let yourself be slightly swayed by a karmically dirty influence. Doc should clean up her practice. But give yours a good scrub, too.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
Being an eminently practical person, most of the skills you use and value the most aren't ones you learned in school. Your favorite lessons include when your uncle demonstrated how to break into a car, your big brother gave you advice about love, or when your best friend taught you how to get rid of bill collectors, Jehovah's Witnesses and telephone salespeople. Given this basic awareness, I wonder why you've been clinging to book learning in one particularly troublesome area for so long. The problem is primed to move—if only you'd apply Grandma's stewed prune recipe to the blockage, instead of what some lameass taught you in college.
|Entertainment and lifestyle news for Maui, Hawaii and the surrounding Islands. Maui Time Weekly is Mauis only independent and locally owned newspaper.
Mail this link to a friend|