ARIES (March 21-April 19): "Baksheesh" is a term derived from the Persian term for "gift." Among travelers in the Third World, it has several meanings, among which are these: (1) bribes paid to authorities to get them to stop hassling you; (2) tips given to strangers who insist on being of assistance by, say, opening a door for you even if you don't want them to. I believe baksheesh will soon serve as an apt metaphor for you, Aries. Be ready to offer compensation to people in order to get them to both stop bothering you and stop "helping" you. (P.S.: The compensation you give may not necessarily be in the form of cash. It could be flattery, presents, or useful information.)
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The biggest food fight on the planet will soon take place. More than 20,000 lunatic combatants will gather in the Spanish town of Buñol to hurl 45 tons of overripe tomatoes and other veggies at each other. Maybe you should book a flight there, Taurus. You'd do yourself a big favor by indulging in senseless but harmless mayhem that allows you to lose control in the name of fun. Nothing would be more healing than a big dose of maniacal fervor.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Russ Kick searches for messy facts that lie half-hidden beneath the official versions of reality. In his two volumes entitled 50 Things You're Not Supposed to Know , he reveals, for example, that most corporations don't pay federal income taxes, George Washington embezzled government money, a third of all American homeless men are military veterans, and Shakespeare filled his plays with sexual references. Russ Kick is your role model, Gemini. May he inspire you to find out about at least three things you're not "supposed" to know. May you adopt his brazen approach as you breeze in to off-limits areas to get the scoop on tantalizing truths that have been missing in action.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): Throughout history there have been secret schools that don't advertise their existence. To enroll, students must either be invited or else stumble on them by chance. In post-Renaissance Europe, for example, Rosicrucian mystery schools taught an esoteric form of Christianity at odds with the Church. Seventeenth-century English poet Andrew Marvell and his cohorts had their underground School of the Night, and ancient Greek poet Sappho stealthily gathered young women at her Moisopholon, "House of the Muses." In recent years the Sexy Bratty Genius School has periodically convened classes at 3 a.m. under a highway overpass in San Francisco. According to my reading of the current omens, Cancerian, you're close to making contact with a similar source of teaching. Whether you end up actually matriculating depends on how you answer the question, "Do you want to learn about things you've considered impossible?"