INTJ, take it yourself: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp
I was just reading Siouxdonnem’s post about not making friends and now my brain is stuck on the subject. Friend is such a vague term. Much like love. I “love” coffee and I love my Mom, but my feelings on the two are barely similar. When I drank, there were dozens of “friends” that I know by name and would play a game of darts with or watch a game or a fight with. But now that I don’t share alcohol with them, we pretty much never see each other. Similarly, I have lost close friends to marriage and/or kids. I wouldn’t say that diminishes good times we shared, but it does make me wonder what we had if it turned out to be temporary.
I have only two friends from the first 18 years of my life that I remain close to. That seems like a tragically small number, but I’m not so sure. So much about your childhood friends is nothing more than proximity. If someone lives on your street, you are either friends or enemies. But if you are 5, you probably both like jumping on the bed, so “friends” is the most logical progression. As we grow and develop likes/dislikes in music/fashion/culture/politics/interests we usually narrow our “friends” possibilities. And introverted people like myself make it even harder. I would rather stay in and watch a movie than go to a big party 100% of the time. There is not a mood I know where a crowd sounds like a great way to spend an evening. I have yet to make a friend while staying home. But I have yet to feel obligated to help someone move who I met while staying home. So there’s that.
The Internet is shrinking the world and people are meeting others that they never would via old-school proximity. I think that’s mostly a good thing. But it probably builds unrealistic expectations for real life. Or maybe we should hold those we are going to spend our time with to a higher standard. I don’t know. I thought I was going somewhere with this when I started. I’ll post it anyway.
I can’t respond to comments. Only one person leaves them, but still. I come up with a cheeky rejoinder and can’t post it? That’s rather wack, yo. This was mostly a test to see if I can post anything at all, but looks like I can. I just can’t respond. If Tumbler (I refuse to omit the “e” that so obviously belongs there) doesn’t get this straightened out, I’m really going to sit here and be annoyed.
I cooked a steak last night. Med/rare ribeye, w/ear o’ corn, asparagus, and a small salad. I meant to take a picture of it all on my plate, but i got hungry and ate it.
Here is my boring refrigerator.
Top row: Soda I never drink, strawberry jam, broccoli, blueberries, salad mix.
Middle shelf: Rainer cherries, chicken breasts, hot salsa.
Bottom: H20melon, milk, yogurt, pineapple.
Crisper: Various peppers, asparagus. Now I’m noticing spots that should have been wiped down. I just cleaned it out Sunday, if I look in the fridge, it seems spotless. The longer I look at this picture, the more I’m convinced it looks like something out of Trainspotting.
This is what my pool looks like all day while I am at work. It has not looked like this one single Sunday this year. God hates me.
This is a sandwich made with a pound of bacon. I’m actually a health nut when it comes to food and drink most of the time. But that day I just wanted a whole pack of bacon -in one sandwich. With a glass of milk. My tummy aches just remembering that glorious day.
On Sundays, no matter what I get around to (or don’t), I always wash sheets. And dry them with extra fabric softener. Every other week, the comforter gets it too. I have the greatest bed in the world, I bet. I was in construction before I opened the store, and used to have lots of money to spend. I bought a few nice things then that I’ll hopefully always have, and one of them is this bed.
I work 6 days a week. I am off Sundays. It rains every. Single. Goddamn. Sunday. Every one, no exceptions since I opened the pool in late May. I have no tan, and have a swimming pool. In August in hot North Carolina.
A - Age: 42. Just starting to feel “old”. I’ve always been carded for drinks and felt really young until I opened the store. Dealing with public will age you.
B - Bed size: Queen.
C - Chore you hate: At work: water changing aquariums. At home, nothing really as long as it doesn’t get too far behind. I guess exercise is a chore, I work out pretty regularly, and really do hate it. But not as much as being doughy, so I do it anyway.
D - Dad’s name: Charles.
E - Essential start your day item: Coffee.
F - Favorite color: Blue or green. Basically, once you get past ROY, I like all the colors on the spectrum.
G - Gold or Silver: Either, I guess. Don’t wear jewelry.
H - Height: 6’1.
I - Instruments you play(ed): Harmonica.
J - Job title: Pet shop owner.
K - Kids: None. Never married, no little Chips.
L - Living arrangements: Three-bedroom house in the suburbs, all alone with my two dogs.
M - Mom’s name: Jeanne.
N - Nicknames: Chip is a nickname, and I realized you can’t change your name without moving far, far away.
O - Overnight hospital stay other than births: Pneumonia in college, but for all my trips, that’s the only time I had to stay.
P - Pet Peeve: People who smack their mouths when eating. <- I’m stealing this one.
R - Right or left handed: Left.
S - Siblings: Dianne, 45.
T - Time you wake up: Alarm goes off at 7 am. I don’t have to be at work until almost 10, so whenever I feel like it.
U- Underwear: Cotton boxers. I don’t think this question had my gender in mind.
V - Vegetable you dislike: I like them all, even brussel sprouts.
W - Ways you run late: Internet, Ipod, computer stuff 99% of the time. I’m pretty prompt, overall.
X - X-rays you’ve had: Teeth and lungs.
Y - Yummy food you make: Very good cook, though being single and working all the time for the last two years has put a damper on that. I grill a chicken breast and have a salad almost every single night lately. If I have a good day at the store, I’ll substitute a steak for chicken. I am very, very boring.
Z - Zoo favorite: Monkeys & apes, as long as they don’t look depressed.