On this triple-nine day when one of my oldest friends, Carla celebrates her birth, I remember reading a rudimentary astrology book as a kid and surmising that we “shouldn’t get along” because we are positioned in direct opposition (I’m Pisces) on the zodiac wheel. In the years since I’ve come to believe that Virgo women (no disrespect to the Virgo brethren) are some of the coolest people on the planet. Earthy and exacting in ways that sometimes surprise, their storied perfectionism manifests differently than the persnickety quality of Virgo legend. Though they can hang with the fellas, they are girls’ girls, loyal to the end to their sisterfriends. Barb, Carla, Carmen, Djassi, Fran, Julia, Kristen, Leslie, Lisa, Quintell, Robin, Toni, Trae; even the best dog whoever lived, Mocha Pendana, were all born under the sign of the virgin. They are, so many of them, simply fly.
Happy birth season, Virgo, shine.