ARIES (March 21-April 19): Jonathan Lee Riches is renowned for filing numerous lawsuits in U.S courts. Some of his targets are actual living people, like Martha Stewart, George W. Bush, and Steve Jobs. But he has also gone after defendants like Nostradamus, Che Guevara, the Eiffel Tower, the ex-planet Pluto, the Holy Grail, the Appalachian Trail and the Garden of Eden. This would be a good time for you to draw inspiration from his example. I don't mean that you should become a litigious fanatic, but rather that you should seek redress and vindication from those people, places and things that have not had your highest interests in mind. This could take the form of a humorous message, a compassionate prank or an odd gift. Remember, too, that old saying: success is the best revenge.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): This would be an excellent time for you to learn how to brew your own beer (tinyurl.com/zteca) or build your own telescope (tinyurl.com/2yert5) or teach yourself how to operate a forklift (tinyurl.com/lgoyk5). Your ability to master practical new skills is at a peak and your need to develop more self-reliance is more pressing than usual. Once you raise your confidence levels, you might even move on to more challenging tasks, like concocting your own home-made flu shot (tinyurl.com/kmchwx) or reconfiguring the way your brain works (tinyurl.com/lxhuap or tinyurl.com/ns5vhv).
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Novelist James Patterson has signed a deal with a publisher to churn out 17 new books between now and the end of 2012. (By comparison, it took me six years to write my first book, nine years to write my second and five years for my third.) According to my reading of the astrological omens, you Geminis will have James Patterson-like levels of fecundity for at least the next four weeks. I suggest you employ that good mojo to create a masterpiece or two.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): As I gaze out the window of my home office, I see a vast wetland crossed by a creek that originates in the bay. At high tide, the creek is as wide as a river. At low tide, it's as narrow as a village street. Sometimes it flows north vigorously, while at other times it surges south with equal force. Now and then it's perfectly still. Its hues are a constantly mutating blend of grey, green, blue and brown, and at sundown and sunrise they're joined by tinges of pink, purple and orange. As a Cancerian, I find this intimate spectacle to be both comforting and invigorating. It's a reflection of my own ever-shifting moods, a reminder that I'm a watery creature whose fluidic changeability is natural and healthy. What I wish for you, my fellow Crab, is that in the coming week you will also surround yourself with prompts that help you to be at peace with who you really are.