Bad Signs for Romance

Stumbled across a book today. Been laying around in my reading pile, and its one of the odd ducks - not something I bought in my usual lines. It is one of the texts I picked up because it looked so different I just had to read it. In this case, because it sounds so quirkly. It is called 'How to Spot a Bastard By His Star Sign' and with a name like that you can bet it is not exactly a book which is overly rosy in its view of my gender. Basically it is joke astrology, pointing out just how men of each sign are horrible wrecks of humanity, broken in truly terrible ways. And how to romance them, or at least resign oneself to the best of a bad lot. As literature goes, it skates close enough to the gender line that, if it was a man writing about women, chances are it would procede the lynching of some male author somewhere. It is irreverent, spiteful, and you can read enough disgruntlement in some chapters that you think this is less a joke than therapy after some truly spectacular bad relationships.

I find it hilarious.

Particularly as I am a Virgo. Usually this, astrology wise, sees me pegged as... excuse me, going to go to one of my lifelines for this - ah, yes, as 'very picky, shy, smart and very self critical' (thanks Moony! [was sort of hoping perceptive was in there somewhere {sigh}])

How was I to know that I was more? Romantically, at least. Virgos, as described by the book, are one good push from obsessive serial killers. That's right folks. I (and approximately twelve percent of the male population) am apparently Dexter - or at least a trundling cart heading down the hill in that direction. Not to mention that I apparently have some obsession with ice picks I never knew about (wow, you really do learn something new about yourself every day, huh?). Cough. Anyway. I am a budding socio/psycopath (well, at least it proves that all those people who think that my smile is creepy right). I don't quite believe it, but the authors gave a convienent checklist to see just how much the Virgo is, well, Virgoian. Let's see how I stack up!


Item one:
"[Virgo bastards] enjoy repeating the same tedious task in the same mind-numbing fashion."

Um. Okay. They've seen me at work.

Well, that's not fair. I don't enjoy that. But I will occasionally take up a 'tedious' or far more often a pointless task, and repeat it ad nauseum. I will admit to sometimes enjoying this. Even data entry. That's right. You heard me. Occasionally I enjoy data entry. Does that make me so evil?!?

....

On second thought, don't answer that. Moving on!

Item two:
"[Virgo bastards] have an unhealthy obsession with the little details - details normal people can't be bothered with because they've got lives."

Okay. Fair enough. I'll give them that one.

I do have a life though. It just isn't... very exciting. At times. But details are good! There is a devil in them too, apparently. Cough. Anyhow, anyone who doesn't pay attention to details is just asking to be caught by one someday and I am just digging the pit deeper so moving on -

Item three:
"[Virgo bastards are] too thick-skinned to notice people crossing to the opposite side of the street when they see [them]."

UNTRUE. A: Only once has anyone ever done that. Twice, max. And I am old enough that such a thing means - oh, wait, are we counting instances of this that happen on Halloween? Okay, then people do that to me a lot. But only on a certain holiday, and they're scared-y cats anyway! Maybe it is the creepy laugh. The trench coat. The axe. But seriously, most people have a lot more folks running screaming from them than I do. Also B: We aren't thick-skinned at all.

Do this to a real Virgo of either gender, and we'll obsess about it. For days.

Item four:
"[Virgo bastards] write checklists to ensure that [we] do everything [we] keep threatening to do."

No...

But...

My, what a fascinating idea.

... ahem... Later, later.

Anyhow, as you can see I only fit half of these which means I am either not yet a perfect Virgo (bummer) or not a bastard (internet quizes have lied to me!?) or the authors are wrong (le gaspe!). Which is sorta depressing. Particularly as the dangerous, edge of murder Virgo they describe has a better social life than I currently do. (Let's not explore that.) Certainly a better romantic life. And more ice picks.

I wish I had an ice pick.

I will have to explore this further. There may be wisdom to be gained from this. Still, food for thought...


(Author's note. This blog post contains quotes from 'How to Spot a Bastard By His Star Sign' by Adele Lang & Susi Rajah, copyright 2002, from St. Martin's Press. It's a funny book, and highly amusing even if you are [perhaps especially if you are] an actual male bastard. Go buy it. And if you are Adele Lang or Susi Rajah - please don't sue me)