Wednesday, 21 October 2009

It's a Sign, Stupid...

'What star sign are you?' 

I'm asked this most days by outwardly sensible-looking people, as if an insight can be gained by my answer. Answering 'penguin' is childish and silly so I stopped that. 
I usually groan and erm... in a noncommittal way and hang, twisting uncomfortably on a silence, not wishing to offend, before answering that I don't really believe in that sort of stuff. 
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Are you a Christian?'
And the can of worms' lid starts opening on its own. 

'When's your birthday then?'
And I begrudge them my answer, and then feel annoyed that it's such a normal question around Glastonbury and that I'm the wierd one.
But I say January the 24th in the end, not wishing to be rude.
'So... you're Aquarian! Omigod! Well that all makes sense! No wonder! Aquarians are so sceptical, you question everything. Of course you're not going to believe in astrology!'

So this is my very own astrological albatross around my neck. My disbelief actually helps to prove that the thing I disbelieve in, exists and so there's no way out for me. Save yourselves while you can. 

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