I was chatting with my mother the other day about how she and The Boyfriend share the peculiar affinity to the crispy parts of food. They’re the type of horrid individuals that insist on having the crunchy end piece of the sandwich and the tough, scorched edges of the lasagna, the brownies, and the macaroni and cheese.
This disgusting fetish has united them against a common enemy: me, and all the other normals who like their food to taste like food and not like rigor mortis.
This weekend Mom was reminiscing about her and The Boyfriend’s most recent Burnt Meals Aficionado’s meeting when she posed the question she asks when she finds someone particularly appealing or appalling: “What’s his sign?”
Normally I would have rolled my eyes at my mother’s desperate attempts to find a correlation between astrology and the completely random. But I didn’t that day, because I was too busy having my mind blown.
What was The Boyfriend’s sign? I had no fucking idea.
How in the hell did that happen? I mean, I’m not into astrology (clearly), but even for nonbelievers like myself, a sig other’s sign is basic information. It’s something you cover on a first date, or at least unintentionally discover by happenstance along the way. Kind of like his middle name, or his favorite food.
Will those facts ever become applicable? Probably not, but they’re still good to know. (I’m kidding. I’m well aware that his favorite food is homemade meat lasagna. Or pretzels. One or the other.)
Besides, there are a lot of people who make huge life-altering decisions based on it. People chose potential life partners, casual encounters and everything in between based off of astrological compatibility. Why do you think all those online dating sites add it to your profile?
Take my friend Janet, for example.
Janet once dumped this seven-foot-tall overseas basketball player exclusively because of an in-depth horoscope. Something about Mercury being retrograde in his half moon at high tide or something like that. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but evidently it was pretty messed up.
At first, I thought she was being ridiculous. Giant Overseas Basketball Guy was, in every other way, the dream man her notoriously picky ass had prayed for. And she’s throwing him away because of some weird alignment the stars were in the night he was born? Say word?!
And here I am, three years into a relationship with The Boyfriend, totally unaware about his sign, or his moons, or his elements, or any of that stuff. Knowing how important astrology is to Janet, and many other people, being completely ignorant of it seems a little extreme.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t believe in it. It was like I didn’t even know him.
Well, actually, I had one giant clue: his birthday, March 1st. But because I don’t know much about astrology, I never knew what that meant and it never even crossed my mind to figure it out. All March 1st meant for me was yet another birthday not late enough into the year for me to properly financially recover from Christmas. (Nearly every human I know was born within a week of Christmas day, including myself).
Now I know some of you have already taken that information and have formulated a compatibility profile of both me and The Boyfriend, complete with most suitable career goals and critiques of our sexual prowess. But me? I still haven't done my sign research, mostly because I wanted to keep the authenticity of this piece.
Will I? Sure. Once I'm done I'll probably consult Google, just out of curiosity, and see what the stars say about him and our relationship. But I won't take the information to heart. I'm just satisfied knowing that neither of us are total assholes and that we get along pretty OK.
What about you guys? How big of a role does astrology play in your dating and relationships?