I don’t know much about astrology except that they sell little rolled up scrolls of them at Safeway in the checkout line. But today in my magazine, I read my love forecast for the hell of it. Because it’s there and so am I.
It said that Pisces are dreamy, artistic and sensitive. And it said my best match is a Virgo because they encourage you to be more practical. So then I looked at what Steve’s sign is and wouldn’t you know it: he’s a Virgo. By one day, but a Virgo nonetheless. And he is what they say: detail-oriented (they didn’t expand on specifics much: best to be vague if you want to be right).
The stars fucking nailed it! That is our relationship in a nutshell. So then I thought the stars must really know what they’re doing. I wondered if the couples I know that shouldn’t be together (you know the type: the people who make each other miserable but for some god forsaken reason stay together) are suggested for each other by the stars. And no, they are not. The stars do not recommend the slut and the whiner be together. Sure, my research on this topic was limited, since I know very few birthdays. But from what I read, I was impressed.
Maybe I’ll go to a psychic next. Or a palm reader (are they the same thing?) It’s pretty fascinating to think stars know us better than we know ourselves. What kind of idiots are we, any way? Stars are rocks (well, technically they are some sort of gases held together by gravity, but that makes them sound smart, so lets go with rocks). Next time someone tells you you’re as dumb as a box of rocks, take that as a compliment because the stars are geniuses. If only we were so lucky.