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Astrology Is The Best Therapy Of All

On my shelf   nestled, fittingly pandora charms outlet yet absurdly, next to Don DeLillo's Libra   is a book titled Destiny Times Six: An Astrologer's Casebook by Katherine de Jersey. De Jersey was an astrologist, and for more than 30 years she received an impressive roster of clients. Everyone from Grace Kelly to Sonny and Cher went to her to learn the nuances of their natal charts.

The discreet Ms. de Jersey doesn't name names in Destiny Times Six, but the case histories she presents are so deliciously melodramatic that it doesn't matter. I stayed awake reading because I just had to know: What would become of Edward, the sensitive Pisces locked in an asylum for the murder of his psychiatrist? And the client calling herself "Jane Austen," a pragmatic Aries in love with her older   and married   Scorpio boss?

I discovered the book when I began studying astrology, an interest that is itself a guilty pleasure. Confessing to any level of belief in astrology invites a sort of half scorn, half pity; your status as a rational human being is now immediately and forever suspect.

So I kept my mouth shut and took in de Jersey's sage lessons. She teaches that the old axioms about sun sign characteristics   that Cancers are moody and Virgos are perfectionists   are incomplete at best, misleading at worst. No fewer than 1,750 planetary aspects factor into a personality, each of them connecting or separating in such intricate patterns that natal charts are as unique as fingerprints. I reveled in learning why I had weirdly intense chemistry with a passing acquaintance (my Venus atop his Mars), why a certain relative is so cheap (Saturn in Taurus), and how my husband's mild jealous streak is tempered by a proud Aries sun (although my own sun, in Aquarius, would never tolerate blatant jealousy, anyway).

After reading the chapter about a promiscuous gentleman with Sagittarius rising, I turned a critical eye to my own chart. Every new interpretation yielded a surprising, if not always pleasant, revelation. The planet Uranus conjuncts my ascendant (an aspect I happen to share with Monica Lewinsky and Conan O'Brien). This implies obstinacy and impulsiveness. And I'll likely spend the rest of my life grappling with my Saturn opposition Mars   the aspect I can thank for my relentless and pandora outlet brutal self criticism.

In between the soapy antics of de pandora charms outlet Jersey's cases, I discovered that astrology was my ideal form of therapy. It's comforting to find reasons   even reasons I'm still embarrassed to discuss   why we connect with certain people naturally, and with others not at all. I keep my friends' and family's birthdays on my calendar, not only to remember to send them cards, but also to study their charts and celebrate all the ways we intersect.

My Guilty pandora outlet Pleasure is edited and produced by Ellen Silva.

The storm hadn't been predicted. When our plane took off from Los Angeles International Airport , the pilot said cheerfully, "It looks like a fine day for flying. Clear and cold in Chicago. I had a wicked inclination to tell the stewardess I was willing to bet the pilot any reasonable sum that by the time we reached Chicago it would be snowing. Last night, just before I'd fallen asleep, I had checked Chicago weather conditions astrologically. Neptune, which is liquid and causes rain, fog, and snow, was adversely aspected to the planet Saturn, which indicates cold. There would be a full moon and weather changes invariably occur either on the full or new moon. In my opinion, it was going to snow   hard.

However I decided to fly anyway. I was tired. I hadn't seen my husband for two weeks. I wanted to get home and get a good night's sleep in my own bed. I'd been on a lecture tour around the Middle and Far West, talking about astrology, and there had been too many late night receptions and early morning flights.

But I couldn't resist a secret feeling of triumph when, about a half hour out of Chicago, the pilot asked us to fasten our seat belts because "the weather had deteriorated." The stewardess allowed as how it was snowing. The pilot went a little further than she did, after we had circled O'Hare Airport until we were all dizzy and miserable. He said a sudden unexpected snowstorm had come out of nowhere. It seemed to be moving out and if we'd be patient another half hour they would have a runway cleared and we could land. And finally, about 6:30, we set down on a runway banked with snow.

I ran for a telephone. Since I had been scheduled to arrive in the middle of a working day, my husband and I had agreed he wouldn't try to meet me. In addition, as the weather got worse, the airline had told him there pandora outlet was a good chance we might have to land some place like Des Moines or Omaha. So he'd gone home to our apartment in La Grange and paced the floor and waited.

"You won't get a cab," Ralph said. "Take the airport bus into Chicago. I'll grab a train and meet you at your studio with a picnic."

My studio was in the old Italian Court Building at Michigan Avenue and Ontario. I stood down in the courtyard with my bags and yodeled for help. In summer, the Petit Gourmet restaurant put out tables where Ralph and I used to have long lunches when we were courting. Today, the winds off Lake Michigan had piled snow in waist high drifts. My husband hurried down and together we skidded up the stairs with my luggage.

But upstairs there was warmth and wine and thick hero sandwiches. After a while, he said, "Was it a lousy trip?"

"Just great. The pilot said if we were patient, we might land in another half hour. My seatmate asked what was the alternative."

"What sex seatmate?"

"Divine. Bald as a billiard ball. You know how I go for the baldies. A doctor. I don't know what kind. His name was Fuller.""We didn't get on a first name basis. But I have his card in my coat pocket, if you have the energy to move. I haven't."

I'm married to Gemini, the most curious man in the world. He got to his feet and found the card. "Katie, my God. Henry Fuller. Probably the greatest brain surgeon in the country. What did you talk about?"

"Why, astrology. What else? He was fascinated." I ducked the pillow he threw at me.

We were late getting to bed on the folding bed in my studio and up early, as Ralph had to take the train out to his electronics company. We had breakfast in a small hotel around the corner and I snowplowed back to the Italian Court Building. It was pandora sale 2016 bitter cold and the concrete steps up to my third floor studio were slick with ice. I stepped carefully, mainly concerned with saving my own skin.

I didn't notice the tall blonde who was coming toward me until we collided. "If you're Katherine de Jersey, I've been waiting half an hour. Your studio is locked and nobody answers the telephone."

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