Jim: Oh, look! Everyone dressed up as angels today.
Jim: Oh, look! Everyone dressed up as angels today.
Kellie sent me a link to a Kiersey-style personality test. I turned out INTJ, the same as I do every few years when I retake the sorter in a misguided attempt at tricking my personality into becoming a more arty type. INTJs are ideally suited to careers in law.
So apparently, I am doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. I guess that means I should be a little more friggen happy about it then.
Disturbingly Accurate Assessment:
All Rationals are good at planning operations, but Masterminds are head and shoulders above all the rest in contingency planning. Complex operations involve many steps or stages, one following another in a necessary progression, and Masterminds are naturally able to grasp how each one leads to the next, and to prepare alternatives for difficulties that are likely to arise any step of the way. Trying to anticipate every contingency, Masterminds never set off on their current project without a Plan A firmly in mind, but they are always prepared to switch to Plan B or C or D if need be.
Masterminds are rare, comprising no more than, say, one percent of the population, and they are rarely encountered outside their office, factory, school, or laboratory. Although they are highly capable leaders, Masterminds are not at all eager to take command, preferring to stay in the background until others demonstrate their inability to lead. Once they take charge, however, they are thoroughgoing pragmatists. Masterminds are certain that efficiency is indispensable in a well-run organization, and if they encounter inefficiency-any waste of human and material resources-they are quick to realign operations and reassign personnel. Masterminds do not feel bound by established rules and procedures, and traditional authority does not impress them, nor do slogans or catchwords. Only ideas that make sense to them are adopted; those that don't, aren't, no matter who thought of them. Remember, their aim is always maximum efficiency.
In their careers, Masterminds usually rise to positions of responsibility, for they work long and hard and are dedicated in their pursuit of goals, sparing neither their own time and effort nor that of their colleagues and employees. Problem-solving is highly stimulating to Masterminds, who love responding to tangled systems that require careful sorting out. Ordinarily, they verbalize the positive and avoid comments of a negative nature; they are more interested in moving an organization forward than dwelling on mistakes of the past.
Masterminds tend to be much more definite and self-confident than other Rationals, having usually developed a very strong will. Decisions come easily to them; in fact, they can hardly rest until they have things settled and decided. But before they decide anything, they must do the research. Masterminds are highly theoretical, but they insist on looking at all available data before they embrace an idea, and they are suspicious of any statement that is based on shoddy research, or that is not checked against reality.
Alan Greenspan, Ben Bernanke, Dwight D. Eisenhower, General Ulysses S. Grant, Frideriche Nietsche, Niels Bohr, Peter the Great, Stephen Hawking, John Maynard Keynes, Lise Meitner", Ayn Rand and Sir Isaac Newton are examples of Rational Masterminds.
I take a good amount of grief over the amount of planning I do. I'm just saying that I don't think that Ulysses S. Grant would have put up with that shit. I plan, therefore, I am. Or something.
June 1, 2007, Lisa and I have just unlocked my apartment for the very first time. We'd speculated intensely already as to whether the previous tenants would have been able to get all of their belongings and miscellaneous junk out of the apartment in time. The night in April when we'd come to view the apartment, neither of us missed the stack of newspapers piled as high as my head behind the kitchen door.
We take an investigatory go through new space opening and closing drawers, peeking into closets. I looked inside the medicine cabinet hopefully. We both secretly want to find something really nasty so we'll have a good story to tell later. We found the nasty, when we started to clean. Lisa cleaned the the stovetop with a screwdriver, scraping and peeling the grease off in thin curls, or forcing it off in chunks, her hair literally getting stuck to the range hood as she worked. And yes, to this day, and probably forever, we love telling the story of The Cleaning of the Kitchen. Especially Lisa, who lived the horror, while I painted.
But for now, we don't find much in terms of abandoned objects. The single object left behind turns out to be a tiny paper crane suspended from a thread in the bedroom window. We take this to be a good omen and I still have the crane. Then, someone, probably Lisa peers into the freezer and here is the discovery we've been hoping for.
I have to paraphrase, as I can't remember exactly who spoke the words, but I can guarantee it went like this:
- What the hell? This bag is full of fish!!
- Umm, what the FUCK?!
Yes, a bag full of fish. In fact, a bag full of other bags of fish. Two bags of pollock and a bag of sardines, to be exact.
I do remember, clearly, the next part. It was Lisa saying, "HOW ri-DIC-u-lous! They managed to get all of that garbage out of here and they leave a bag ... OF FISH?!" I wish I could describe in even a half adequate way, how Lisa moves her hands when she speaks and her laugh and the way her curls float around her head, punctuating her words as expressively as any hand gesture. "I mean ... REALLY!"
I forgot to throw it out. I am awesome.
... he'd reminded himself of caribou at the river's edge. They retreated once, twice, three times. He'd never known before that migration wasn't one unbroken forward movement; it was sideways, backwards, forwards, a passage enlivened with indecision in the face of real and imagined danger.
- Late Nights on Air, Elizabeth Hay
A couple of friends have been applying peer pressure on me to try online dating. I've thought about it before, but I didn't do it. I'm not that interested frankly, and less than a week ago I told Ingrid that I was "completely done" with seeing people for the moment. I've gotten myself into enough hot messes this summer, and I have too many other things to deal with right now, so forget it. Right, so anyway, as insomnia will do, around 4:00 am this morning creating a profile began seeming like a really great idea.
About two seconds after my profile became active people started trying to live chat with me. I wasn't too into that, so I went back to bed. This morning I checked my Gmail and there were several notifications from the site alerting me to messages I'd received and that some people had "added me as a favourite", whatever that means.
I did not deem any of the messages I received while I was sleeping to be particularly interesting with the notable exception of this one, from 24 year-old, "TongueDrums":
I am here looking for a discreet, NSA relationship with a woman who can host and who needs someone in their life for some GOOD sex. I love giving oral, and will spoil a lucky lady off this site with my love for it. So if you are in a relationship in need of some attention, or just single and haven't had the orgasm you crave in a long time, message me and lets get to work! If i find someone off this site, i will delete my account, so girls, message me!
Should hook him up with the lady from the library.
I like to make lists. I have been making a lot of lists lately. It makes me feel like I am Getting My Shit Together. At this point I have about a million and a half things to do, consolidated on four different lists, but that's fine. It's a process.
So, one of the things on one of the lists was Get a New Library Card.
I used to have a Toronto Public Library Card. Then I moved to Hamilton, got a Hamilton Library Card and threw out my TPL card. I didn't really think I'd be needing it, ummm ... ever again. Whoops.
The library only charges $2 for a replacement card. I told the lady they were ripping themselves off. Not like she can do anything about it, but all I'm saying is, if I lose my gym card, they gym is not charging me two bucks for a new one. No, no, the gym charging me $25. The gym is Not Fucking Around. Come on TPL. Seriously.
Anyway, as I'm being re-enrolled in the active TPL roster, changing my name and address and feeling that warm and fuzzy, "yippeeee I'm getting involved in my community!" sensation, this lady comes in to return some books. "Some of these are overdue," she tells the other librarian, "but I don't know which ones." She starts rifling through her messenger bag and piling the books up on the counter. The first book she puts down is, "The Joy of Sex" and I am not joking when I tell you, there were at least five other sex books in that pile by the time she had emptied out her bag.
I just cannot imagine why in God's name you would want to check out how-to sex books from the library. First of all, as it is, a typical library book is only just barely tolerable to me from a germ-carrying perspective. Can you imagine what kind of germs are inhabiting The Joy of Sex? Duuuuude, get that shit on Amazon. Or like, at Good For Her. For real, yo.
Even if I wasn't skeeved out by the germ issue, what happened next would be more than enough to prevent me from ever (EVER) checking out sex books. The librarian, a 30ish, decent-looking guy, looks at the pile, looks at the lady, cannot keep the bemused grin off his face as he looks again at the pile, picks up one of the sex books and starts flipping through it such that he and I both end up with an illustrated sex education. Oh Jesus, I bet he is still thinking about WHAT that lady got up to (as am I).
The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.
- Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Apparently clutter and mess have myriad negative impacts on one's mental state. I felt much better than I have in a month, after tidying and cleaning my bedroom and sorting through some old Married Things. I felt so good I went out and bought new sheets, new towels, a new shower curtain and a shower organizer thing-y, a plant and a wicked door mat to make my place even better. I guess what I wonder is if the clutter and mess isn't perhaps the result of a messed up, confused mind, not the other way around. My place is never such a disaster when I'm feeling fine.
Recently, one of my cousins had an incident that I've been thinking a lot about. Her husband walked out on her one day, leaving her with two small children. Then one day, he walks back in and presents her with a list of all the things she's been "doing wrong" in their marriage.
I'm not tight with this girl so I have no idea how she reacted, what was on the list, if she took him back, or what.
It's story after story after story after story that I hear like this these days. It's an epidemic.
I can sure as hell tell you how I would have reacted. With a big fat, "Fuck You." (You have to imagine it with each word punctuated with an adamant finger point). Followed in close succession by, "There's the door, Asshole." There is absolutely no way I will ever stand for that kind of stupid shit. And I hope, I hope, that she won't either.
I don't mean to demean what my cousin is going through. I know what it's like to do whatever you can to save something not worth saving and to do it because you really want to. But, I think, I would have been happy to have a list like that given to me. I would have been ANGRY. I would have been the one to say, This Is Done NOW.
It would have been a lot better than, "You wouldn't eat the muffin, I was mad." A real "reason" given to explain our marital breakdown, no kidding.
ANGER has been missing in this situation for a year and a half. Know what? I am really fucking pissed now. Really. Pissed.
It is a relief.