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Showing posts from May, 2014

Selfish Buncha Bitches

Today's is a little bit of an add on to what I wrote yesterday.  Today I was reading yet another article about personality. This particular article was written about attachment styles and how to fix your particular style. I can remember reading about this while getting my psych degree and thought the same thing I thought then. Damn, I am fucked. I'm also the person that reads articles about how to spot a sociopath and wonder whether I am actually a sociopath. That's not really the point though.  There is another article about personality. Another article about what might be wrong with us. Another article on how we can actually fix what is wrong with us. This is sort of what the quizzes themselves are about. The difference between them is that the quizzes only fill out the good parts of who you think you are. These articles seem to emphasize everything that is wrong with you. How do you fix you? There isn't really anything wrong with this because really it ju

This Personality Test Says I'm #4...the Unique Individual

I love to think of myself as a unique person. I'm funny, energetic, creative, intelligent and outstandingly charming. All different qualities that no one else could possibly have right? Well, that's obviously wrong and not even a unique quality since most people want to be different these days. Now comes the irony. There are billions of people in the world all wanting to be unique and now the personality tests have taken over the internet. Even I've become one of those people and I take almost all of them. Which Parks and Recreation character am I? Leslie Knope because she's my spirit animal. Which city should I live in? London. Which Myers-Briggs personality animal am I? ENFP, the dolphin. This means I'm Extroverted, Intuitive, Feeling. Perceptive. The narcissist loves to share with you about how amazing I am, but really there is a point to this. My theories:  While everyone loves to be different, they really love to be understood as well.  All

Working 9-5?

I've been working since I was in elementary school. I believe it started with simple chores. When I was bored and none of my friends were around to play, I would beg to rake the yard. I'm not sure why I did this, but I probably liked the mundane activity of sweeping up the mess that was a leaf filled yard. This could also have been another indicator of the OCD that sometimes plagues my life in the form of what I call "quirks". Another was when I was in shopping lines and I would organize all of the candy in to their proper slots and in to nice pretty rows. The disorganization of that just drove me insane. By the age of 5, I would actually go to my friends houses and help them clean. I couldn't believe they would be okay with toys on the floor and a closet that wasn't perfectly organized. Not only were there jeans not all folded in the same direction, but they weren't even all in the same location. There were t-shirts mixed in there for instance. Shenan

Cemeteries and well...death. Obviously?

When I was a child I had a strange fascination with cemeteries. This was a discovery I made when my mother was mourning the death of one of her beloved friends. I knew the person and I liked her, but I was young and I felt almost empty while my mother stood there weeping. Instead of standing there, I slowly backed away from my mother and walked around the graves below my feet. I would mentally calculate all of their ages and if I thought they died young I would feel sad for a moment and then move on. Then I walked upon a grave of young boy, he was wearing a tap outfit and had toys lining the cemetery. He was only 8 when he died, which was only a couple of years younger than I was when I found the grave since I was 10. It had been 3 years of his passing at this time, so he was supposed to be a year older than me at the time. This was when I felt fear and sadness. Not only for me and the inevitable, because this could have been me, but for him and his family. I sat down and I stared at

My Kobayashi Maru.

Sometimes I like to bring my Facebook machine to Starbucks and do other things with it. Like surf the internet, take quizzes to feed in to my vanity and occasionally I even write. Well, I have been here for two hours and I have listened to a lot of music, watched the Starbucks girls create a clever system to line drinks up at the drive thru, and I've looked one too many times at Facebook. We don't have to talk about that right now considering it is the Facebook machine. Once again, since it's between semesters I am trying to write. I have two projects happening at the same time. One is a complete re-write of a novel I have previously written and which I think could be done much better. The other is taking a story I wanted to write previously and adding a slightly autobiographical element. This means no one will probably ever read it because I don't want them guessing which parts are real and which are not. Instead of writing any of these things though, I am facing a