Monday, 28 November 2011

The day I realised I was allergic to Virgos.

I had a chuckle today when I read this news story about a Japanese company that refuses to employ 'Virgos and Scorpios.'  It reminded me of the fact that I have a very developed allergy to Virgo men. No really...bear with me.

Years ago when I was single (without kids) I used to read my stars on a regular basis. There were certain astrologers that I thought were pretty accurate, and I'd pour over their annual predictions for the year ahead. I even used to tear the page out of the magazine they were printed in, and stick them inside my kitchen cupboard door, the one with the mugs and cups.  So every time I made a cuppa I could check when my year was about to improve or bite the dust.

I also had a book about my best matches for love - actually I still have it in an unpacked box somewhere - and would read it carefully whenever I met a new man.

I don't bother with astrology much these days, although I do like to think I can spot certain star signs personalities. Oh you know,

But there's one sign that I have developed a real allergy to (don't laugh, this is serious stuff!). I can't be doing with Virgo men.  This isn't a random discrimination where I decide that men born from the end of September to late October are all bad'uns, no, this is based on my own personal experience.

Just look at the evidence.

I've had three major relationships in my life, and they've all been Virgos. And all have ended badly.

Not only that, but I've had flings short relationships with other Virgos, which had varying degrees of success, but generally the evidence points to the fact that I should avoid Virgo men.

But the buggers seem to like me.

When I first met my ex-husband I'd just ended a long relationship with - guess what - a Virgo, and I asked my ex what his star sign was. He muttered something about not believing in that sort of thing, and somehow changed the subject. It was only some time later, when it was already too late,  that I discovered that he was a Virgo. Damn.

Clearly the fearless, good-natured Sagittarian (me) is not suited to the pernickity, humourless Virgo*. Maybe that's one of the reasons I don't bother with men anymore? Only the blummin' Virgos are interested in me, even though we go together like oil and water.

So these days I avoid cats, grass, feathers and Virgos.  They're all bad for my health.

*Female virgos are not included in this description. Obviously.