asocial INTJ tries to plan get together… lols

a self-serving recitation of self-deprecating vanity.

INTJ on the extreme end of introvert. check your myers-briggs six. i have to force anything even remotely extroverted. as a matter of fact, i wish that all customer service cockroaches and cashiers could just read my mind. it would save me a whole lot of verbal change.i don’t mind being the boisterous rabblerouser even when it means i seem over eager or desperate. truth is, i’m one of the most asocial, indifferent, socially apathetic people you will be privileged to never know. my take on social anythings is that if people gather to make idle chit chat and witty banter, i prefer to observe rather than partake. of course i get the irresistible urge to chime in and guffaw with others. and of course i occasionally revel in the energy of a good crowd, but it’s cuz i’m easily amused. i don’t need to feel and smell the hot breath of others to keep warm and sated. you will NEVER hear me refer to myself as a “social butterfly”.  it’s why i love being a little brown recluse on the fringe of the interwebs. it’s cold and distant and doesn’t feign connection. lovely cold hard detachment.

so what better way to be a nuisance than to try to coordinate others for a gathering. my obsessive organizational, compulsive coordination,  and irrational need to reach 100% completion on non-essential tasks make me prone to getting into a frenzy of activity when planning anything ever.

usually i get paid to do it. i’ve honed a start-up career out of a nesting instinct. i get paid to do what comes naturally to me. but on occasion i find myself involved in something outside work. rare but certain. it’s cool, i keep track of where people and things get off to. if someone in the department needs some obscure office tool or random scrap of data, i’m the go-to wench.  i’m the hub of this office for a reason. i collect and store information. it’s what i do to pay for my right to exist in this world so, of course, it’s a habit, too.  the talents come in handy and sometimes they result in kickass birthday parties for my kids and family. but sometimes things end in exasperated sighs from other apathetic folks who don’t even care to fake it for the sake of posterity.

but once in awhile, once in a very blue moon kind of while, i get that itch to be around other people. and as i’m filing through my mental catalogue of friends i keep at a distance, i realize i’d  rather continue the extensive affair that i began with my dvd player than take a shower and drive anywhere.  so then i turn to electronic means of keeping track of people. it saves me gas and cheekaches resulting from a persistent friendly smile (when you’re cheeks are as…prominent as mine, you don’t want to hold them up for extended periods of time). you think i’m kidding. please be so kind as to look at exhibit A: on none of my “social networking” sites will you see pictures of me with anyone but my own kids and occasionally, family members. please note the subtle absence of pictures of me anywhere but in my office or at the park. exhibit B: when’s the last time you actually saw me in public or, as a matter of fact, even heard my voice? i can all but guarantee you have not accidentally run into me frolicking on 6th street or lurking in the warehouse district in the past 4 or so years. exhibit C (which i can’t prove): 98% of my texts/phonecalls are to my bf.

yeah, i get it. you don’t care. me neither, truly. but what i’m talking about here is the unspoken RSVP request. a simple “can’t make it” would help my poor mind let it go. don’t think that i don’t call and/or email the superintendent’s office until i get a yes or no answer from his secretary for our department meetings. damn right. and he’s the 2008 austinite of the year. believe that.

if it’s a bust, then i can at least say i tried. if you’re asocial, hit me up (electronically, of course) and let’s not hang out sometime.

sourface

i’m in such a sour mood i wrote a paragraph about my sour mood and then deleted it because i was disgusted with the content.

i need to eat something. i’m surprised that my rumbling tummy hasn’t sent word to my vascular system that it’s time for a migraine. still thirty minutes to go before i can pull into some nasty fast food place and order something out of desperation to keep from fainting from hypoglycemia. and i’m only half exaggerating.

i’m at the mercy of my metabolic system. it sucks. but when i try to rebel, lethargy and migraine ensue. my other option at this point is to walk in the heat to get a snack. not worth it in my book for two reasons. 1) women know that while surfing the crimson wave, going from sitting to standing too often can cause issues and i didn’t bring a sweater to tie around my waist if you catch my drift, and 2) it’s hot. it’s texas hot. and i’m hot natured.

i’ve given up on finishing my last task for the day. my blood sugar is low, i’m fuzzy brained, and i’m cranky. and i’m sullen. and i’m annoyed about being all of those things. i may be gritty with my friends which makes me not want to go on this Sex and the City Movie outing that i’ve allowed myself to get drawn into. the one good thing is that i will have an excuse to lash out irrationally if a particular girlfriend gives me a reason. i’m just begging for a reason. please give me just one reason to squish you with my thumb and give you the verbal thrashing of a lifetime.

…big sigh…most likely i will just fake cheerful, because i’m good at that. and i’m good at making people laugh so that they will say “heeheehee, same ol’ ________, her comedic timing is just impeccable” even when every word i say is motivated by disdain. i will likely make silly jokes. like always. and i will smile from ear to ear so that the dimple on my right cheek digs in extra far and people will be sure to see it. i will toss my long hair flippantly and laugh just as jovially as usual.

however, what i will do is lay low and try not to end up being the organizer/facilitator of the group. hopefully there is at least one controlling bitch there to take that roll on. hell, if there are two, it’ll just be that much more entertaining for me. i’m through being the diplomatic peacemaker/communicator. let the she-wolves tear each other to shreds for all i care.

hopefully my mood doesn’t end up permeating the group through my blackest black aura. everyone will need to stay at arms length, i think. NO GIRLY HUGS! …here i go. towards the certain demise of the evening.

cowardly courage

i’m apprehensive about making my blog known. i’ve considered allowing some select family members know about it and maybe a friend or two. only the open minded, less supercilious folks, of course. until now, i’ve been perfectly content to use it as an online journal that only a few random people ran into along the way that i didn’t know. and of course, my tremorChrist. my cattle prod.

i’m adding tags, categorizing. just learning the angles of this shit. all in hopes that i won’t receive utter and complete rejection from the blogging community, readers and writers alike. what if everyone hates my thoughts? hell, sometimes I hate them. and if i’m not gonna share it, what’s the point of having it? all these philosophical questions. it’s like a giant cable knit sweater! that’s someone keeps knitting! A-aND KNITTING! A-aND KNITTING! A-aND KNITTING… heh heh heh.

what if i talk about embarassing things that the people i know have no clue about? for instance, when i chew gum, i can’t just chew one piece. i have to chew at least 4 or more, until my cheeks are bulging and i can’t carry on a conversation without taking it out. i’m sure there are worse things that i do, but it came to mind first and it’s disgusting and my mother hates it… why does my mother always come up?

and what if i talk about you? or what if i talk about someone you know? would you be flattered and offended? or just offended? well the good news is, i’m so conceited, the chances of me talking about anyone other than myself are miniscule at best.

“It’s my HEAD, Schwartz! IT’S MY HEAD!”

streaming word vomit, streaming thoughts

learned a new verb today: “lifestreaming”. apparently, it’s something i already do. i’m positive it’s not a new word to anyone but me, but i’m slow, and we’ve established that fact. or at least, i have.

i love finding new words that help me to further describe things i already do or think or experience. for instance, “oceanic experience”. i heard it from a show on PBS and it immediately set off all the lights and gears in my head (like when all the doors light up in Monster’s, Inc after Boo laughs. just like that, i swear) and things start moving.

i have a whole mess of words that i still haven’t absorbed into my arsenal, so i keep short lists. the lists help to ensure, with my tendency to be distracted, that i return to them in a reasonable amount of time. the thoughts i don’t get a chance to write eventually return, but sometimes it takes years and i just don’t have that kind of time or patience, so i’ve taken to scrawling on anything available, usually my hands or thighs if i’m wearing shorts, which doesn’t go over very well with my mother, but shit, that’s a different blog all together.

i like words. and the more you diddle them, the more you appreciate the intricacies of language and the myriad subtleties in the spoken and written word. geez, that’s a mouthful. glad i didn’t choke on it.

i’m often apologizing for my annoying habit of looking completely lost but i prefer to look at my “paced assimilation of new data” as a strength. once i know a thing, i thoroughly network it to other highways in my brain and the concept becomes mine to do with as i please. i don’t know it as it stands alone. i know it as it stands in relation to everything else i know.

so, the other things i liked about the things (that was repetitive but i’m not gonna change because it amuses me that i did it) i was reading about “lifestreaming” is that someone drew a comparison to Being John Malkovich, which went over great with me. i’ve been holding Being John Malkovich hostage from Netflix. there’s something distressing about the movie and it makes me watch it frequently. i suppose “lifestreaming” (…”laser”…) creates a vehicle that is something akin to letting someone ride shotgun in your consciousness, “along for the ride” so to speak. and i suppose an emotionally evocative writer could make the passenger feel specific things. even if the reader feels something unintended.

an old one

i’m a reasonably young person. a reasonably young lady. reasonably grown-up. my daily life consists of many of the same things as yours. and, possibly, many that your days are not subject to.contentment, worry, fury, sorrow, confusion, joy, misunderstanding, wonder, fascination, solitude, distraction, sun, rain, wind, air…

 

if i were to spend a day in your sphere of existence and you in mine, i might wonder what you thought of my world. i would certainly have thoughts about yours. some of them accurate, others distorted. my little monocle would never fit you. and vice versa. your perceptions, molded by the experiences in your life, i will never fully understand. even at my most intuitive. even with all the gory details you care to divulge. even with intense vocal emphasis on the parts of your story that you want to impact me those most.

if i were to spend a day in your sphere of existence and you in mine, i might wonder what you thought of my world. i would certainly have thoughts about yours. some of them accurate, others distorted. my little monocle would never fit you. and vice versa. your perceptions, molded by the experiences in your life, i will never fully understand. even at my most intuitive. even with all the gory details you care to divulge. even with intense vocal emphasis on the parts of your story that you want to impact me those most.

 

 

 did you know that? it isn’t just me, either. no one will ever understand you. no one is privy to another’s microcosmic mess.  that is both beauty and bane of being human.at best, with consciously suppressed bias and carefully managed judgment, i can make a mental list of what i know of you and draw up parallel lists of emotions and actions that succeed each item in the first column. column A, column B. like a matching list on an 2nd grade quiz. i could manage that list according to how i want you to feel that i percieve you or i could proceed from a visceral standpoint, reactive and sloppy. the latter would be if i really didn’t care what sort of relationship or pattern of interaction we establish. see? it’s simple. right?

  

 

after dissecting the matrix of human connection in this base vulgar metaphorical way, i’m confronted with the question of why human interactions, relationships, being so clearly manageable with objective application of logic and order, are terribly prone to calamity… 

you know, i considered writing more but i couldn’t finish my stream of thought. it happens. frequently. maybe i’ll come back to this entry later. and maybe not.