StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and she reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Café 32:
Back to the Café, and a Strict "Talking-to" from Saturn

Jupiter and Neptune had a marvelous evening together, laughing and entertaining everyone in every "coffee-bar" we visited. By the time we finally made our way to the elegant suite Jupiter had reserved for the three of us, I was totally exhausted—and quite ready for sleep.

I wrapped my arms around Jupiter and hugged him hard. "Thanks so much for the tour," I said. I was trying to figure out how to ask if I could go home in the morning without offending him when Neptune spoke. She was stretched out languidly on an antique loveseat, still happily puffing away.

"Hey, Big Guy," she said. "Why don't you stay here with me for a few days and let our girl go home? Looks like she's had all the fun she can stand for a while…"

I giggled, and before Jupiter could object, said, "You're right. I've had it. I'm tired."

"You don't want to go to Paris?" Jupiter said. "Well, how about Rome? Or Vienna?"

I shook my head. "No, darlin'. I'm feeling a little homesick, you know?"

He put his hands on his hips and squinted at me. "You sure, babe?"

"Positive. You stay, and I'll fly back tomorrow."

At that, Neptune stood up. "Oh, now, remember who you're with, my girl. You don't have to get on a plane to go somewhere when Neptune's in the room. I'll get you there. You just give me a hug and get yourself into bed. Sleep well. I'll send you pleasant dreams."

I had absolutely no idea what she meant by all that, but I was tired, buzzed and ready to close my eyes. I hugged them both, thanked them and said good night. Jupiter made me promise to call him from the Café when I got back, and as I closed the door to my room, Neptune was rubbing Uncle Jupiter's shoulders. Ah, yes. The Goddess of Altered States—which included relaxation.

I did, indeed, have pleasant dreams. In fact, I spent most of the night dreaming about flying—without a plane, that is. I flew over the ocean, over mountains and forests. The last thing I remember about my dream was seeing the Sun come up, then glancing down to see the top of my home.

I woke up in my own bed, with my cat curled up on the pillow next to me. Neptune wasn't kidding when she said she'd get me there. I had been magically transported to my own bed during the night. No plane, no customs, no nothing. Amazing.

A few minutes after I'd opened my eyes, the phone rang. It was Mercury. "Better get down here, girlfriend," he said. "Saturn's on the warpath."

"Uh oh," I said. "At me?"

"That's what I'm thinking. He wants to see you in his office, right now."

"His office? Not hers?" This was serious. Being summoned to see Saturn was one thing, but I wasn't being sent for by the wonderful Native American grandmother I'd met a while back. I had a feeling it was the military general who was demanding to see me—and I just knew he wouldn't be smiling.

"Okay," I told Mercury. "I'll be there ASAP."

I dressed quickly and drove down to the Café. The neon lights in the window were off, and it was dark inside, but the door was unlocked, so I went in. A serious voice greeted me from a table in the back. "It's about time, young lady."

Uh oh. I felt as if I were in high school, in the principal's office. I slowed down to a shuffle and saw Saturn sitting in the corner. He was dressed in his general's uniform, arms folded across his chest. "Sit down."

I did.

"You've been on a rather wild ride lately," he said. "Haven't you?"

Even though I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, I was afraid to answer—and I had a feeling there was a bit of punishment coming up, too. Something about the tone he was using.

"Yes, indeed. Do you realize how long it's been since you've actually done any work?"

I tried to speak, then. "Well, yes, but Jupiter…"

"I don't want to talk about Jupiter. Or Neptune. Or whatever it was you were doing in Amsterdam. I want to talk about your work."

"Yes, sir." I said, sitting up even straighter in my chair.

"You need to stay off the planes, out of the bars and away from Jupiter. You need to stay put and get some writing done," he said. "And I'm afraid you aren't going to do it without a bit of help."

Oh, God. I had a feeling it was time for a "wonderful learning experience," a phrase coined by "new age" astrologers to soothe folks under difficult Saturn transits. Translated, it means the proverbial ax is about to fall—and the outcome probably wouldn't be pleasant. I swallowed hard, and waited. And waited.

Finally, Saturn spoke again. "That's all," he said. "You can go."

I should have known something was coming. That last statement he'd made sounded awfully ominous, for starters. Saturn isn't the type of planet that tolerates us having too much fun when he's around, and I hadn't realized just how close he was to me at the moment. He was in Gemini, almost exactly opposite to my Sun in Sag—a powerful statement about getting serious and getting some work done, not gallavanting around Europe.

I left the Café, and I have to admit, I was pretty darned shaken up by the experience. I was so distracted, in fact, that as I ran up the short flight of stairs to my apartment, I slipped—something Sagittarians are experts at, anyway—and felt my right foot turn in a way I knew feet shouldn't turn.

A cold, blue pain took over my ankle, and I realized I had just broken my very first bone.

Next Week: A Six-Week "Wonderful Learning Experience” Courtesy of Saturn.