Astrology for Vineyarders: August 2011

A general overlook of this August makes me feel like piling up the mystery novels and crawling into bed. If Proust could stay reclined for months at a time, why can’t we? On the other hand, none of us is about to write a “Remembrance of Things Past.”

We have a perfect storm swirling around us that combines two titanic forces: Mercury in Retrograde until August 26 and . . . AUGUST BLUE-MEANIES!

Who are these meanies, you might ask? Your friendly Valley-Girl-turned-Vineyarder astrologer posits that they derive from every zodiac sign. If only a single sign produced blue meanies, ancient authorities who believed in this stuff would have kept them out of general circulation, so every sign must breed a few. And, face it: We all have the potential to be less than wonderful for short—or long—periods of time.

Here’s the situation: Merc In Retro, in addition to being a bad time to buy big-ticket items like washing machines and Uzis to blast away blue meanies (oops! you can see I’ve already had a few run-ins) is also a time when communication can be strained or even completely bungled. Don’t forget, Mercury is the dude with the wings on his ankles to help him deliver messages. When he lags behind, or at least appears to, as Earth orbits the sun, we speak, fax, email, text and even sextext in ways that may end up antagonizing. (Hey! In the middle of writing this, I got a call from a friend who received a text telling him he was an [expletive deleted]! Case in point!)

Hmm. A pile of mystery books and a month in bed is starting to sound even better. Oh great, a skunk just shot its wad somewhere upwind of my window as I wrote that last apperçu, so even the animal kingdom can insult you when you least expect it.

Pep talk time! Let’s all find ways to make this summer fabulous in spite of peccadilloes that may arise. Here’s what’s in the moon and the stars and the arms of your own personal guardian angels for you:

LEO (7/23–8/22)

You’ve been working all year to get that hottie body ready for August, and you’re going to look great on the strength of your own blazingly positive self-image. Oh, a few people may want to sneak up from behind and give you a push into that riptide. They’re just jealous because you look fab in that thong, even at the age of 90. Or 91! Stay positive. You’ve tried a little false humility, but no can do. Get back on the beach, soak up the rays, you Sun King/Queen, you. And don’t forget the SPF 30! You’re gonna need it in bulk with all that extra flesh you’re flashing.

VIRGO (8/23–9/22)

Dearest Virgin of the Zodiac (in a manner of speaking), please stop obsessing and bide a wee in these balmy breezes and sunsets like something out of a Monet painting. Yes, there are shenanigans in the work arena, but take the advice of Paramahamsa Yogananda and become a smile millionaire. It works! Oh, some of them haven’t smiled in so long the muscles around their mouths no longer function. But most people smile back at you and that’s when you taste the L-U-V LUV of the Universe.

LIBRA (9/23–10/22)

All your life you’ve liked a few key family members, but think the rest should be shipped to Alaska to work the oil pipeline. This makes it hard for you to accept the concept of family as a comfort. But, hey! This month you’re feeling the love, so whatever family is coming to visit, stock up the fridge, swab out the bathroom, leave Murdick’s fudge on their pillows (with the wrapper intact, s’il vous plait) and dispense extra hugs. After you get your family fix, you can return to those relationships that don’t tie you down (and their number is legion).

SCORPIO (10/23–11/21)

Yes, you’re a movie star—not only in your own mind, but in your community and, if you’ve really flogged your talent enough, in the larger world. But you know, and Auntie Holly knows, that you also harbor dark thoughts. You have your demons. We all do. But yours, if illustrated, would have sharper teeth, bristlier ears and the ability to exhale red and orange flames. But these are the goblins that chase you into being stunningly creative, so keep on keeping on and NEVER take a pile of mystery books to bed.

SAGITARIUS (11/22–12/21)

Your sign always reminds me of that lyric by Paul Simon about the girl “who calls herself a human trampoline.” Yeah, you hit the tarp, but then you pop back up again, more resilient than ever. Some memories are tryin’ to getcha, but you’re feeling so centered, so alive right now, you can quickly dismiss them (even easier to do if you’ve taken up meditation). Basically, there will be very little hitting of the tarp this month. You can stay aloft just like, when we were children, we believed in our hearts we could fly.

CAPRICORN (12/22–1/19)

Yes, even in your luxury lodgings, fears of ending up a bag lady/guy pop out of the Jacuzzi to say “Boo!” Fuggedaboutit. Don’t you realize by now you’re too organized, too driven, too successful to worry about down-and-out-ism? And even if the worst did happen—I’m just saying this because if we can hold in our minds a worst-case scenario and get comfortable with it, the phobia will vanish—so you sleep in the rain, drink wine out of a bag, get to know some interesting hobos and maybe eventually you can turn the experience into a best-selling memoir and be hailed as this century’s Kerouac?

AQUARIUS (1/20–2/18)

You’re a kook and you’ve always been a kook, but it’s been decades since you’ve clunked someone over the head with your backpack for pointing that out to you. Neptune’s retrograde back in your sign, so you’ll be feeling kinda fuzzy. On the very bright side, if you’ve been working on your spiritual life—which, airy-fairy Aquarius, you most assuredly have—there will be times when the brain fog will meld into pure Samadhi. Even the blue meanies won’t be able to bother you now.

PISCES (2/19–3/20)

It resonated, didn’t it? The above-mentioned image of spending the month in bed? Well, don’t do it! It’s not in the interests of your sanity, or anyone’s sanity, for that matter. You are very much needed in the world because your work and your personality is a salvation for yourself and others.

ARIES (3/21–4/19)

You’re wondering if spring fever is hitting you a little late this year: You can’t decide if you’re longing for love like poor Romeo going directly from his last crush (wasn’t it a babe named Rosalind?) to Juliet, or if you’re just plain so insensibly riled up that any association that manifests at this time could feel like The Big One. Well, watch your step because, as outlined in the Perfect Storm above, you could meet what appears to be an unfolding lotus blossom that’s actually poison sumac (who is in actuality a lotus who’s acting sumac-y this month).

TAURUS (4/20–5/20)

You may be blaming another round of the Vineyard shuffle on the, uh, Vineyard, but in reality, Tauruses have lately been in an unusual state of flux. (Should you have a Tarot reading this month, the Falling Tower will show up in either the fourth or tenth position.) Eeek. But here’s the silver lining: You’ll rest in the bosom of whatever once sustained you and which you put aside. And guess what? Peace is at hand, and a new beginning.

GEMINI (5/21–6/20)

You’re swatting away everyone who could help you right now, and that’s only because you prefer to see yourself as the grand dispenser of all good and necessary stuff. But think about this: You’re gifted with a circle of family and friends who adore you. Do you think this would happen if you didn’t need them as much as they need you? Geminis can have it both ways: You can be Peter Pan and fly out the window on Tinkerbell’s golden dust, and you can also come home and sleep in your own bed.

CANCER (6/21–7/22)

Things were supposed to get better last month, but you’ve let yourself in for another sitz bath in the cannibals’ cauldron. You have an enormous heart, the best organ to possess in a jumbo size, but it keeps you from speaking your mind. You know what happens when you hold anger inside? It gets added to the ingredients of the cauldron, and you’ve even gone so far as to take the wooden spoon from the head chef and stirred yourself in the brew. Step out of the boiling broth and go out and spend some money on Y-O-U to show yourself a little love. Just don’t buy a washing machine or an Uzi (the latter is not your style).