Archive for September, 2006

The Blog About Being An ESFP

{ September 27, 2006 @ 8:12 am } · { Blatant Overshare, Me, PG }
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Tonight is just full of self discovery. I’m too irritated and lazy to go into the details, so I’m just going to copy and paste the most interesting of discoveries. This is my myers/briggs personality type and profile. Joy.

I’m an ESFP…and here’s what it says about me.

“Extraverted sensing types are pragmatic and realistic with a zest for living life to the fullest by way of multiplying experiences. Always on the alert for what needs immediate attention or what might provide a bit of action, excitement or entertainment, they engage quickly with their environment. They seek and enjoy freedom, are good-natured, direct, and tolerant and are often the ones who provide levity.

They have a way with dealing with people on a very equal platform and are not easily star struck. Rank, celebrity and status mean little when they are face to face with another individual.
On the job, they appreciate having the right tools and are quite ingenious at finding ways to fix and repair things with dexterity. They love variety and are curious and adventurous, enjoying the unexpected. Their brand of extraversion is one of deeds rather than words. As long as things are moving along, they are happy. They like to keep things simple and immediate, going with the flow. They are helpful in very concrete ways, providing the correct tools or specific service the person requires. They often have an uncanny ability to respond appropriately in cases of emergencies, often having excellent reflexes. They act without thinking. They also tend to have natural mediating skills.

They are attuned to the environment and the myriad colours, textures, sounds, beauty and the sensuousness of it all. They are quite graceful and agile while moving through their environment. They love having fun and if things are too quiet they may provide the entertainment or distraction. They learn by imitation and are keen observers. They teach through example. Their attention will always go towards whatever provides the keenest impression on their senses. “

Wonderful. So now I’m labled, filed, and dismissed.

The Blog About Turning into A Chick

{ September 20, 2006 @ 11:07 pm } · { Blatant Overshare, PG }
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So I’ve been thinking again.

Ok, so I spend the majority of my day thinking and this is nothing new, but very few of these thoughts make it past the censors. There’s various reasons why a thought may be rejected for broadcast. It could be out of place, out of context, innapropriate, too colorful, not colorful enough, slightly retarded, overly thought out, not thought out enough, random, obscene, too chickish, or just plain unnacceptable. These things either get rejected and discarded or they get rejected and pondered. Lately it’s been the latter for several ideas.

The most frequent is the acknowledgement that I’ve turned into somewhat of a chick. I never used to be. I never used to care about people more than just a passing notice. Lately that’s not the case. I care about people I don’t even know and haven’t met. It’s not like I lose sleep over it, but the thoughts are there just the same. Stupid moments on TV or in Films or even lyrics in songs get to me. They stir up something that captures my attention. It could be for a moment or for a day. Then there’s select people in my life that make me feel. Actually feel an emotion. This is odd, for me at least. And to be honest, it’s pretty annoying.

I liked not caring. I liked being ambivilant and indifferent. It worked for me. Yes, people saw me as a bitch because of it…but it kept me ’safe’. People couldn’t get to me. Now they can and it sucks. But that’s the other thing that’s been bothering me…

When did it become something to be frowned upon to be a ‘chick’? Why is it better to feel nothing at all than to let anyone close to you? Most of my guy friends roll their eyes at any girl who behaves girly in the slightest. What do they expect, really? The same personality as them only with a different body?

As always…not exactly the most profound of posts, nor earthshattering in any way. Just airing a few thoughts that otherwise would be pondered or lost to oblivion.

The Blog About More Past

{ September 17, 2006 @ 8:51 am } · { Blatant Overshare, Me, PG, Them }
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Does the influence of the past have an expiration date?

Seriously. It seems like no matter how much I think I’ve left the crap of yesterday behind, it always finds a way to affect me today. Weather it’s through conversation, or the de ja vu of a familiar situation – I feel like I’m going in circles. And I’m annoyed. I know I’m shaped a certain way, but only the wrong ones seem to see past that. My mind functions on a certain level and for the most part remains somewhat censored…until it’s around the right (wrong) company.

How long does my identity have to have everything to do with the past? When does Zeb’s memory get to be meaningless and insignificant? Not to say that it’s everything to me today. I can’t let it be. What would be the point of entertaining that train of thought? It’s the same reason why I don’t let myself entertain the idea of various relationships with other people. Living in a false reality only leads to dissapointment when the daydream wears off. But does that make it wrong to hope? That’s the way it feels to me. I don’t hope because I don’t want to hurt. I can’t hurt if I didn’t expect something to begin with.

Of course this logic is utter crap.

Not allowing yourself to hope for something doesn’t stop the hurt. Tonight proved that within a few short moments of conversation. And beyond that acknowledgement we will stray no further.

The Blog About Being Affraid

{ September 16, 2006 @ 12:52 am } · { Blatant Overshare, Me }
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I am so incredibly frustrated.

This isn’t anything new, granted. But the fact of the matter is that few if any actually know just how sad my daily life makes me. I understand that I’m fortunate by most standards. I get this. But if there’s one thing that this summer tought me it’s that what I feel is not important. So, I don’t say anything about it. That’s why whatever I feel goes here, where no one reads it.

I went the the LA Fair today with my mom and Abigail. It was a fun day, for the most part. The people, the animals, although I will say that I find it fun walking around with a 22 month old in tow for one reason: no guys bother me. Not to say that I think I’m all that wonderful. Lets face it – sometimes all it takes to get the attention of some men is a set of boobs. Regardless of how attractive you are (or aren’t) you’ll get bothered if you’re a female. No no, I am under no false pretenses that I am some incredibly wonderful creature. This summer tought me that too.

Damn it, now this sounds like a big fat woe is me. It’s not the case. This is the problem I’m facing right now. I don’t know how to be honest and not come off as some depressive and needy female. I don’t know how to admit that I’m devastated and lonely without scaring away those who would mean the most to me. I’ve been conditioned to think that having any form of insecurity or humanity is repulsive and unwanted. So now, I feel like I have to keep up this perfect and unruffled facade while the rest of the world goes on its merry way with no idea of what the reality of my daily existance is. Wonderful.

I know what I want, but I can’t have it. I know where to go for the quick fix but I know it would be a mistake. It feels like God is waving this image of the life I’d want in front of me as a tease with little intention of giving it. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I’ll live the rest of my life in wanting.

The Blog About 9-11

{ September 12, 2006 @ 1:52 am } · { PG }
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Naturally, there are a multitude of postings and tv spots and all other manner of media proclaiming the five year anniversary of the World Trade Center collapse. This is, as stated, understandable. I can’t help but feel a decent amount of sorrow for those who lost their loved ones five years ago today. But more than that, I can’t help but look back these last few years and realize just where I was on this day, September 11th…in 2001.

I was 17. That alone should explain half of what follows. I was innocent. I was nieve. I was completely ignorant to the reality of the world around me. I hadn’t seen much of the world, all but maybe an incident or two. I was young. Of course I don’t consider myself old now. Well, at least not in age. In life and the crap it can bring along, yeah, I guess I do consider myself old to some extent. But we’re not talking about now. We’re talking about then.

I remember that morning. My mom woke me up with the statement: You’re not going anywhere near Los Angeles anytime soon. Of course, I’m thinking…what does she know? Not that I had anything of real importance to hide, but at that time I was slightly paranoid about my parents finding out ANYTHING about my life. I didn’t think they’d understand. I didn’t think they could accept me as anything other than the perfect and spotless person I thought they wanted me to be. After I was conscious, my mom explained what had happened in New York. I was surprised, sure, but I didn’t really get it. I went to college that morning and my math class was cancelled. I remember saying – to my utter shame, now – “Hey, terrorists can attack us whenever they want if I get to miss class.” At least I had the decency to add “oh, as long as they don’t hurt anyone”. What a fool.

I had another conversation with Carter later that day and made a similar heartless remark. in fact, I didn’t really move on from the cold and oblivious stance until later that evening when I saw some footage on TV that I’ll never forget. They were showing the plane hitting the building – something I’d already seen by that point – but from a different angle. They showed it flying into the second tower from ground level, aimed at the sky. What I saw was the belly of the plane as it crashed into the tower. They then showed people actually jumping from the buildings before they collapsed. Obviously, in the days that followed this footage was removed from all broadcasts. But at the time it was what it took to make me get it. I called Carter later that day and told him the change in my perspective. He said, “good. I almost hung up on you earlier today”. He lost a friend in one of the planes that hit the Twin Towers.

But that’s just one day. Yes, the effects were ongoing, I suppose. Really though, it’s more interesting for me to look back and realize how clueless I was to what was about to happen in my own life. Through the next year I would change in ways I never thought I would. I’d intentionally do myself harm. I’d meet someone who would later do more harm than he would ever know. I’d have certain posessions taken away by my parents for my own protection. I’d lose something I never wanted to give up. I would be abused. I would be forced. I’d be hurt in ways I didn’t know existed. Or at least thought would never happen to me. I’d file police reports and share the most intimate of details to complete strangers. I’d learn the first part of the lesson that tought me how amazing my parents really are. I could go on…but it’s not really necissary.

The point is this: so much of life happens when we are least expecting it. We don’t even pay attention half the time to the little things that build up to so much more. Places we go, and people we meet. They’re not just isolated events. They’re all connected to the bigger picture. That year was one of the worst, but one of the best of my life. The worst because I had to live it, the best because I learned from it. Sometimes we can’t help what happens to us in this life. What we can control is the lesson we learn from it, and how we allow it to shape us.