If You Belonged Here

Skimming the Surface

In case you've forgotten, the following is a kokology question. Please answer it.

(p. 66) We humans excel at many things. However, floating isn't one of them. Sure, with a little practice and a lot of effort we might manage to keep our heads above water for a few laps in the swimming pool, but none of us would fare very well if dropped in the middle of the ocean without a life preserver. But, as always seems to be the case, human ingenuity has made up for the short-comings of the body and provided us with boats. And thanks to those seaworthy craft, now there is no spot on the surface of the world's waters that lies beyond our reach.

Imagine that you are a boat floating on the water. Which of the following describes you?

1. A raft of rough-hewn logs.
2. A sturdy rowboat.
3. A racing yacht.
4. A cruise ship.

I'm pretty sure there was a time when I would have been the cruise ship but now, the very idea seems far away and beyond my reach. The racing yacht leaves me dizzy. And I'm sad to admit that I only wish I felt like a rowboat. Today, right now, at this very moment I am a raft of rough-hewn logs and there is a storm brewing in the the near distance. The water is already getting choppy and the wind is picking up. But there's a rope, a sturdy rope, that I can hang onto and as long as I don't let go, I'll be okay.

P.S. I'll post the key here when enough of you have answered. And by enough I mean at least ten people besides me.

Butterflies

So my Darth Dateable post has been getting a lot of play lately. You remember that one, right? Well, thanks to TJIC, The Thinker, The Sci Fi Catholicand Moomin Light hundreds of other people have been enlightened.

Only one of the enlightened forgot to be gracious and had the nerve to question my INTJness based on the butterflies and flowers on my blog. Well, TJIC is an INTJ and he has a rather pretty little bird on his blog. But mentioning that makes me feel like a fifth grader so let's not mention it. Let's just address the question:

What kind of INTJ has butterflies and flowers on her blog?

1. The kind of INTJ who outsources her design to a very savvy designer.
2. The kind of INTJ who knows how to extend a metaphor.
3. The kind of INTJ who embraces irony.
4. The kind of INTJ who laughs at stereotypes.

I thought about not mentioning this and just, well, not mentioning this. But I get hits for Lonely Non-Girls almost every day. A lot of these girls are young and impressionable. A lot of these girls are concerned with doing things the best way possible. Maybe they're still at a point in their lives where they don't really value other people's opinions but because everybody else does, they're allowing that maybe there's a good reason they should, too. I mean if everyone is doing it, it must make sense right?

Um, no.

You can't possibly imagine how incompetent most people are, even people in positions of wealth and power. (Hint: W). So, there's a good chance that lots of the people around you aren't doing as well as you think they are, don't have it as together as you think they do, and are generally faking it just well enough to fund a 401K.

The only reason to canvass a crowd for confirmation of your own opinion is because you are too insecure or stupid to have an opinion. So if you're an INTJ and you like butterflies, go for it. If you can't be bothered personalizing your blog's look and feel, bully for you. If you want to collect rusty gears and TRS-80s, well, by all means. If that's what you want to do.

But if you're really an INTJ, you don't need me to tell you that. You aren't looking for anyone's approval or permission.

I like butterflies and flowers, people. They look pretty. I don't see this as being much different from liking chocolate because it tastes good or music because it sounds melodic. Does this mean I have to turn in my INTJ card? Nah.

Drinking diet soda doesn't make me thin and decorating my blog with flowers doesn't mean I'm a nice person. If only it were so easy.

I am not an INTJ male. I'm just not. I have a little estrogen in my system. I sometimes like to paint my toenails red and drink watermelon margaritas. I can braid hair. I've even gone so far as to shimmy my way into Spanx. Some of my bras have lace on them. I wear a thong. Also, truth be told, I almost passed out while watching Black Hawk Down and I cried myself dry over My Girl. I mean, seriously, arterial veins and little dead boy's glasses get to me, people. I am not made of teflon.

There are a lot of good arguments as to why I might not be the INTJ of the year, but having butterflies and flowers on my blog isn't among them. Seriously. If anything, my reaction to this bit of razzing is as INTJ as it comes: the question is built on faulty logic (if any at all).

It's my blog; I'll butterfly if I want to,

Hospitality

Blogging makes me more approachable. I'm aloof, you know. Or maybe you don't. Maybe you feel like I'm approachable. If you do, well, that's the blogging.

A long time ago the Dol, and she probably doesn't remember this but it happened, told me that she missed her other best friend because they could just be silly together.

Seriously? I'm not silly?

I'd like to think that the Dol has come to see my more humorous aspects, not all of them intentional, and has found my silly side but only she can tell you that for sure. But even if the Dol hasn't found it, I really truly do have a silly side. Not just a witty, flippant, sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek, punchy side but an actual silly side. The kind of silly that is usually associated with pre-pubescent boys. We're talking Tune-in-Tokyo, fart jokes, and one-legged-hugs.

Mr. Poppins knows all about the one-legged-hugs (and if you read legged as one syllable, go back and read it as two syllables and sing it to the tune of the "a three hour tour" from Gilligan's Island). So, anyway, I can be silly. You probably just won't have seen much of my silly side unless you also know me well enough to also have seen my bare backside, which is maybe a few more people than you could politely assume.

In any case, I have a silly side. And a compassionate side. And a side that is so downright nice that I can actually be mistaken for an INFJ, which I am not, although maybe I am an INxJ. But let us remember that we all use all the letters of the MBTI, just like we all have left and right hands and use both although not all of us are ambidextrous like Mr. Liz. So I have an F side, for sure, and I can use it about as well as I can use my left hand, which is surprisingly well unless you know how much time I spent practicing writing left handed when I was supposed to be paying attention to my high-school french lessons.

Doodling got boring.

But mostly, in real life, I am not that dazzling. I am really not that pithy. Unless I have been drinking. Because even an eensy-weensy sip of red wine will turn me into George Carlin, only with more hair and fewer cuss words. Mostly, though, I am sober and when I am sober I like to stare at walls and listen to the sound of blood rushing in my ear and worry that I am going to die of an stroke. Well, not really that. Mostly the sound of blood rushing in my ear just annoys me while I am worrying about Secret Lulu and how to protect her from all hardship, sadness, and discomfort, ever.

And then I worry that I worry too much.

Where the heck was I going with this? Oh, I like my sister-in-law better since she started blogging a few years back. Before that, I barely knew her, and what I did know of her was all in a mildly strained, getting-to-know-you-because-we-related-now capacity that would have taken another two decades to get past, given the distance between our houses. Thanks to her blog, I feel like we're old friends. The kind who can show each other post-baby stomachs and lay around on the couch together.

Thanks to my blog, maybe you feel that way about me, and in some cases, maybe I feel that way about you, too. As my sister-in-law said, in a post I am not allowed to link to, blogging is a great way to get to know someone without having to actually let them know that you're getting to know them. You can, in a sense, audition your potential friends.

Of course, if you decide you are best friends with someone who doesn't know you and you just show up on their doorstep, that is suspiciously like stalking and, well, if you are on my doorstep you should know that I am paranoid and likely to react like a cornered mongoose. You should also know that I have been practicing jamming my thumb through someone's eye for the last twenty years. Not on actual people or living things, but I'm prepared, people.

Whatever.

So, the point is that because my sister-in-law blogs, and maybe because I blog, we had a lovely, comfortable visit. She really is an excellent hostess, and besides the fact that she doesn't live in Hawaii or at the very least, Orlando, I couldn't have enjoyed myself more.

Thank you for the hospitality. I hope to return the favor soon.