bitches and hos
So I was taking a nap with Brad, and his dad started yelling at him to do chores or he'll own his ass. How awkward so I'm looking at livejournals.
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Three Aries starlets have recently stopped
dying their hair blonde. Mandy Moore, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Reese
Witherspoon have all returned to their brunette roots, relieving
themselves of the pressure to masquerade. I suggest you draw inspiration
from their example. Stop all pretending. Throw off your disguises. Be as
natural as you dare to be. Beginning November 22, "Know thyself," will be
your battle cry, and the best way to prepare for that day is to make "Be
thyself!" your mantra for now.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): On a song from his multi-platinum album, *Get
Rich or Die Trying,* hip-hop artist 50 Cent sings, "I'm into having sex, I
ain't into making love." Your assignment, Taurus, is to do the opposite: Be
into making love, not having sex. What? You say you already do that all
the time? Well I'd like to suggest that like most of us, you still have a lot
to learn about making love with your heart completely open and your
mind full of innocent wonder. There's more you could do to bestow
blessings and invoke the divine presence while in your intimate embraces.
Are you brave and humble enough to go to the next level? (P.S. If you
don't have a partner, work solo.)
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): For years, the walls of many public restrooms
were inscribed with the graffiti, "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a
bicycle." Recently, my Gemini friend Ross made it his mission to spread a
mutated version of that meme. He has personally decorated scores of
bathroom walls with the saying, "A Gemini needs emotions like a fish
needs a bicycle." He thinks your tribe can function just fine without the
messy complications that emotions bring. I disagree. Though you certainly
don't need to wallow in the swampy tumult that some people seem
addicted to, you do periodically require the humanizing effect of deep,
mysterious, overwhelming feelings. This is one of those times.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): If you're fully alive, the answer to the
question, "What is the meaning of life?" keeps evolving. Last century's or
last year's truth can't possibly be true for the person you are changing
into. So what's the answer for you these days? Only you can decide, of
course, but I'll offer a suggestion based on my astrological analysis. It's
from philosopher Tom Morris. "The meaning of life," he says, "is creative
love. Not love as an inner feeling, not as a private sentimental emotion,
but love as a dynamic power moving out into the world and doing
something original."
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Legendary underwater explorer Sylvia Earle was
named a "Hero of the Planet" by *Time* magazine in recognition of her
pioneering efforts to preserve marine sanctuaries. Because she holds so
many diving records and has spent so many hours submerged in the
ocean, she is known as "Her Deepness." You should consider making this
practical idealist your role model in the coming weeks, Leo. Her
adventures are perfect metaphors for the work you should pursue: bold
excursions into the intriguing abyss; devoted cultivation of the beauty
that lies below; and in-depth care for your life's submerged mysteries.
(P.S. Do you mind if I refer to you as "Your Deepness"?)
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): If you'd like to be in harmony with cosmic
rhythms, Virgo, spend quality time thinking about the future of your
education. I'm not just referring to plans for school. You should ruminate
about which people you'd like to learn from and how to hone your
listening skills. You should take inventory of what subjects excite your
curiosity and what training you'll need to fulfill your dreams. I also urge
you to freshen up your mind by emptying it of at least ten of your
entrenched opinions. Now write this gem from William Butler Yeats on a
piece of paper, and carry it with you till December 1: "Education is not
the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire."
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): *The Great Gatsby,* F. Scott Fitzgerald's best-
known novel, was not the author's first choice as a title. He wanted to call
it *Trimalchio in West Egg,* but was overruled by an editor. Similarly,
*Gone with the Wind* was originally *Tomorrow Is Another Day.* *Valley
of the Dolls* was *They Don't Build Statues to Businessmen.* And my
book *The Televisionary Oracle* was initially called *A Feminist Man's
Guide to Picking Up Women.* I hope that hearing of these shifts inspires
you to rename your own life story, Libra. The events of recent months
have changed your long-term plot lines so much that you really do need a
new title.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): "A new idea is delicate," wrote author
Charles Brower. "It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed
to death by a joke or worried to death by a frown on the right person's
brow." And that's exactly why you should be so protective of your fresh
approaches and budding innovations this week, Scorpio. They may
ultimately evolve into breathtaking brainstorms if they're given room to
grow. Don't discuss them with anyone except sensitive people who
respect you.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "This is what I believe," wrote D.H.
Lawrence. "That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never
be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods come forth from the
forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must
have the courage to let them come and go. That I will try always to
recognize and submit to them." I'm hoping this passage inspires you in
two ways, Sagittarius. First, you're in especially close touch with the
deepest sources of your life, so it's an excellent time to write your own
creed, beginning with the phrase "This is what I believe." Secondly, more
gods than usual are coming forth into the clearing of your known self, and
they're uncommonly willing to give you juicy clues. Pay close attention to
their whispers and screams.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "True beauty doesn't reveal itself until the
winds of time have had their say," says graphic designer Todd Dominey.
"Beauty is in the cracks, the worn spots, and the imperfect lines." Your
assignment, Capricorn, is to be on high alert for this phenomenon. In fact,
I urge you to avoid being seduced by fresh shiny beauty. It would distract
you from the more hard-to-find stuff-the worn, imperfect, cracked
beauty that alone can feed your soul right now.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Conventional wisdom says the best
problems are those that place us under duress. There's supposedly no
gain without pain; stress allegedly helps us call on resources that have
been previously dormant. I partly agree. But I also believe that pain
frequently generates no gain. We can easily get addicted to mediocre
problems that drag on and on without rousing our sleeping genius. There
is, furthermore, another class of problem-let's call it the delightful
dilemma--that neither feeds on nor generates angst. On the contrary, the
delightful dilemma is fun and invigorating, and blooms when we're feeling
at home in the world. Imagine a life for yourself, Aquarius, in which the
majority of your quandaries match this profile. Try out the theory that
your most useful problems come when joy is your predominant state of
mind.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Leo Alard was the first Hispanic to become an
Episcopalian bishop in the U.S. His pioneer spirit emerged early on. As a
young priest in the 1960s, he headed a racially integrated parish in
Cattahoochee, Florida. The bigots of the KKK didn't look favorably on his
work, and on one occasion they burned a cross on the church lawn. Alard,
who was supervising a youth group on that particular night, brought the
class out and had everyone toast marshmallows over the fire. I urge you
to regard Alard as your hero in the coming week, Pisces, and imitate his
genius. Capitalize fiercely on every apparent setback, making full use of
playful humor and resourceful unpredictability.
pretty grrls and death cab tonight yesssssss
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Three Aries starlets have recently stopped
dying their hair blonde. Mandy Moore, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Reese
Witherspoon have all returned to their brunette roots, relieving
themselves of the pressure to masquerade. I suggest you draw inspiration
from their example. Stop all pretending. Throw off your disguises. Be as
natural as you dare to be. Beginning November 22, "Know thyself," will be
your battle cry, and the best way to prepare for that day is to make "Be
thyself!" your mantra for now.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): On a song from his multi-platinum album, *Get
Rich or Die Trying,* hip-hop artist 50 Cent sings, "I'm into having sex, I
ain't into making love." Your assignment, Taurus, is to do the opposite: Be
into making love, not having sex. What? You say you already do that all
the time? Well I'd like to suggest that like most of us, you still have a lot
to learn about making love with your heart completely open and your
mind full of innocent wonder. There's more you could do to bestow
blessings and invoke the divine presence while in your intimate embraces.
Are you brave and humble enough to go to the next level? (P.S. If you
don't have a partner, work solo.)
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): For years, the walls of many public restrooms
were inscribed with the graffiti, "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a
bicycle." Recently, my Gemini friend Ross made it his mission to spread a
mutated version of that meme. He has personally decorated scores of
bathroom walls with the saying, "A Gemini needs emotions like a fish
needs a bicycle." He thinks your tribe can function just fine without the
messy complications that emotions bring. I disagree. Though you certainly
don't need to wallow in the swampy tumult that some people seem
addicted to, you do periodically require the humanizing effect of deep,
mysterious, overwhelming feelings. This is one of those times.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): If you're fully alive, the answer to the
question, "What is the meaning of life?" keeps evolving. Last century's or
last year's truth can't possibly be true for the person you are changing
into. So what's the answer for you these days? Only you can decide, of
course, but I'll offer a suggestion based on my astrological analysis. It's
from philosopher Tom Morris. "The meaning of life," he says, "is creative
love. Not love as an inner feeling, not as a private sentimental emotion,
but love as a dynamic power moving out into the world and doing
something original."
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Legendary underwater explorer Sylvia Earle was
named a "Hero of the Planet" by *Time* magazine in recognition of her
pioneering efforts to preserve marine sanctuaries. Because she holds so
many diving records and has spent so many hours submerged in the
ocean, she is known as "Her Deepness." You should consider making this
practical idealist your role model in the coming weeks, Leo. Her
adventures are perfect metaphors for the work you should pursue: bold
excursions into the intriguing abyss; devoted cultivation of the beauty
that lies below; and in-depth care for your life's submerged mysteries.
(P.S. Do you mind if I refer to you as "Your Deepness"?)
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): If you'd like to be in harmony with cosmic
rhythms, Virgo, spend quality time thinking about the future of your
education. I'm not just referring to plans for school. You should ruminate
about which people you'd like to learn from and how to hone your
listening skills. You should take inventory of what subjects excite your
curiosity and what training you'll need to fulfill your dreams. I also urge
you to freshen up your mind by emptying it of at least ten of your
entrenched opinions. Now write this gem from William Butler Yeats on a
piece of paper, and carry it with you till December 1: "Education is not
the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire."
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): *The Great Gatsby,* F. Scott Fitzgerald's best-
known novel, was not the author's first choice as a title. He wanted to call
it *Trimalchio in West Egg,* but was overruled by an editor. Similarly,
*Gone with the Wind* was originally *Tomorrow Is Another Day.* *Valley
of the Dolls* was *They Don't Build Statues to Businessmen.* And my
book *The Televisionary Oracle* was initially called *A Feminist Man's
Guide to Picking Up Women.* I hope that hearing of these shifts inspires
you to rename your own life story, Libra. The events of recent months
have changed your long-term plot lines so much that you really do need a
new title.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): "A new idea is delicate," wrote author
Charles Brower. "It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed
to death by a joke or worried to death by a frown on the right person's
brow." And that's exactly why you should be so protective of your fresh
approaches and budding innovations this week, Scorpio. They may
ultimately evolve into breathtaking brainstorms if they're given room to
grow. Don't discuss them with anyone except sensitive people who
respect you.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "This is what I believe," wrote D.H.
Lawrence. "That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never
be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods come forth from the
forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must
have the courage to let them come and go. That I will try always to
recognize and submit to them." I'm hoping this passage inspires you in
two ways, Sagittarius. First, you're in especially close touch with the
deepest sources of your life, so it's an excellent time to write your own
creed, beginning with the phrase "This is what I believe." Secondly, more
gods than usual are coming forth into the clearing of your known self, and
they're uncommonly willing to give you juicy clues. Pay close attention to
their whispers and screams.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "True beauty doesn't reveal itself until the
winds of time have had their say," says graphic designer Todd Dominey.
"Beauty is in the cracks, the worn spots, and the imperfect lines." Your
assignment, Capricorn, is to be on high alert for this phenomenon. In fact,
I urge you to avoid being seduced by fresh shiny beauty. It would distract
you from the more hard-to-find stuff-the worn, imperfect, cracked
beauty that alone can feed your soul right now.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Conventional wisdom says the best
problems are those that place us under duress. There's supposedly no
gain without pain; stress allegedly helps us call on resources that have
been previously dormant. I partly agree. But I also believe that pain
frequently generates no gain. We can easily get addicted to mediocre
problems that drag on and on without rousing our sleeping genius. There
is, furthermore, another class of problem-let's call it the delightful
dilemma--that neither feeds on nor generates angst. On the contrary, the
delightful dilemma is fun and invigorating, and blooms when we're feeling
at home in the world. Imagine a life for yourself, Aquarius, in which the
majority of your quandaries match this profile. Try out the theory that
your most useful problems come when joy is your predominant state of
mind.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Leo Alard was the first Hispanic to become an
Episcopalian bishop in the U.S. His pioneer spirit emerged early on. As a
young priest in the 1960s, he headed a racially integrated parish in
Cattahoochee, Florida. The bigots of the KKK didn't look favorably on his
work, and on one occasion they burned a cross on the church lawn. Alard,
who was supervising a youth group on that particular night, brought the
class out and had everyone toast marshmallows over the fire. I urge you
to regard Alard as your hero in the coming week, Pisces, and imitate his
genius. Capitalize fiercely on every apparent setback, making full use of
playful humor and resourceful unpredictability.
pretty grrls and death cab tonight yesssssss