This amuses me

le Café - Oldelaf (english subtitles)
Uploaded by Boebis

Stunning realization

I've come to the conclusion that my blogging style, and my full personality, are rather drastically different. Through various personality tests (done by actual psychologists, not just those you find online) I'm quiet certain that from a Jungian perspective I'm an ENTJ (Extroverted Intuitive Thinking Judging) personality.

ENTJs often excel in business. They are assertive, outspoken, confident, outgoing, energetic, charismatic, fair-minded, and unaffected by conflict or criticism. However, other traits may lessen the impact of their strengths. They may appear argumentative, confrontational, insensitive, intimidating, and controlling. They can overwhelm others with their energy, intelligence, and desire to order the world around them. ENTJs tend to cultivate their personal power, and often end up taking charge of a situation that seems (to their mind, at least) to be out of control. Also, ENTJs seek knowledge, striving to learn new things, which helps them become good problem-solvers. They may be viewed by others as aloof and cold-hearted, since ENTJs appear to take a tough approach to emotional or personal issues. In situations requiring feeling and value judgments, ENTJs are well served to seek the advice of a trusted Feeling type.

This also relatively corresponds to my OCEAN (Openness Conscientiousness Extroversion Agreeableness Neuroticism) percentages (99, 84, 79, 60, and 24%, respectively).

My prior blog postings, when run through Typealyzer suggest that I'm an ESFP.

ESFP - The Performers

The entertaining and friendly type. They are especially attuned to pleasure and beauty and like to fill their surroundings with soft fabrics, bright colors and sweet smells. They live in the present moment and don´t like to plan ahead - they are always in risk of exhausting themselves.

The enjoy work that makes them able to help other people in a concrete and visible way. They tend to avoid conflicts and rarely initiate confrontation - qualities that can make it hard for them in management positions.

This seems rather drastically different from my typical personality. Clearly I'm still an extrovert, so its not completely out of left field, but I think this has keyed me more readily in to the fact that I have been using this blog as a venting mechanism, rather than as a portrayal of myself.

It's about time I rectify that.

Updates

I really am terrible with the updates. Last year as far as my apartment situation was concerned, was a train wreck, but unfortunately, I'm sure there are plenty of others out there with college horror stories. My apartment this year has worked out much better, and I have an amazing roommate (Tina) who's one of my favorite people in Salem. We all get along, the sponges don't smell, and no one considers me "mean and confrontational."

(As a side note: While I wouldn't call myself mean, I don't pretend to be a nice person. Hell, I don't even consider myself to be a nice person. Also, had I been confrontational, she'd have been sure of it. I'm perfectly happy with friendly debates and arguments over opinion. Being confrontational would involve my actively seeking to argue, which has never been the case.)

First semester was interesting. I spent a great deal of time mutely arguing with my senior thesis advisor. She saw fit to 'have [me] consider' changing my data set several times. Twenty-five scholarly sources was not enough for her (and please, keep in mind this is just an undergraduate paper, we're not giving me a million dollar grant for this work). Eventually I just decided that the whole project (which I've hated since day 2) was a waste of my time and effort. I had reached a standoff with my thesis advisor, and I'm not even considering going into the field. (I find that it is typically important for a psychologist to like people. Let's be honest here: I give great sarcastic commentary; I'm shit with advice). So, after 15 or so years of 3.0's or better, I took my first 'F.'

'F.' It was such a liberating letter. Perhaps the best decision I've ever made in college--admitting that I had a limit. By realising that I could fail, actually fail at something, and still be okay (my GPA is still over a 3.5, which shows you just what kind of a gung-ho, shuts-herself-in-her-room-all-the-time-in-order-to-study kind of student I've been all my life), I allowed myself to let go of all the ridiculous expectations (like still being bitter that I never went to BU, or applied to Brown, or that I would end up 0.004 points off from a clean 4.0). I'd never slept better than I did that first night after I decided to say "Fuck it!'

This semester, I'm still kicking myself for taking 6 classes, but for the most part, these are all classes I'm genuinely interested in. Which doesn't mean that I'm in love with the fact that my Cognitive Neuropsychology class (which I legitimately love, because any time I can talk about poking around in someome's brain...I'm interested. That's just plain cool) meets at 9:30 in the morning. I'm still convinced that the day should start no earlier than 10am, but I'm back to taking courses that I actually like. My Vietnam class has only furthered my opinion that American foreign policy is decided by people who must be on crack, but the professor is amazing. Hell, he even looks like George Carlin, circa 1988. Both of my psychology classes lead to discussions about PET scans, fMRIs and massive brain trauma, which is fantastic (unless it's you with the brain trauma). My history classes are Euro-centric, which is nice (only 6-10 real people you have to know, just change the number that follows their name), and cover much of the same material at some point during the semester. Phenomonology still continues to boggle my mind, but I think that's rather the point, but I'm not entirely sure.

Work is great and awful at the same time. I've explained at least 10 times in the last week how to properly use a semicolon. Please kill me before I commit homocide for crimes against grammar.

Holiday complaints and grievances

I happened to overhear some of my apartmentmates discussing holiday political correctness. While I normally see political correctnes like "he/she" or "(s)he" and things like that, I cringe, I also understand the necessity of using unoffensive terminology during such a season of religious holidays. In particular I was shocked by the desimation of the phrase "holiday tree". Who in the world could be offended by calling a tree with decorations a holiday tree? Alas, it was my supremely Christian apartmentmate who leaned down from her high horse to correct the huddled masses. According to her there is no reason to call a Christmas tree a "holiday tree" as the phrase is silly, and no one calls a Menorah a "holiday candle holder". Here I shall however point out the flaw in her logic: (1) It is not only Christians who decorate trees in winter; it was started by the Pagans, (2) a Menorah is not a "holiday candle holder" because the other cultures who have candles incorporated into their holiday traditions (Kwanza for example) have very different candelabras and candles, as the significance is supremely different. With decorated trees, who knows by looking at the tree whether the person who decorated is is Pagan, or Christian, or simply someone celebrating the holidays just like their friends and neighbors do, but don't have any particular belief system? You can't. Thus the HOLIDAY TREE. Please don't continue to assume that Christianity is supremely right, and invented everything. It just isn't so.

an update on the dishes

I had previously posted about how some of my roommates have complained about there being an odor coming from the sink, and that it was my dishes. I have since discovered the root of the problem. It is not my dishes.  Someone in the apartment neglects to wring out the sponges after using them on their dishes, which leads to mildew and mold in the sponges. I have yet to receive an appology about prior dish accusations. I'm less than hopeful that I will get one.

SSC Psychology Society

So I have now successfully created the barest of bare bones of a Psychology Society at Salem State, and given it a webpage, forum, and facebook group. I just hope this project goes somewhere.

Following the Rules of the Apartment

It has recently come to my attention that someone (Kelly) in my apartment has a problem with my dishes "always being in the sink". Apparently, letting pots and pans soak over night, or even for 24 hours, is unacceptable according to the rules? Seems silly to me, since you need to soak the pots and pans in order to fully comply with the "clean your own dishes" rule. Why would I try to fight with caked on flour or baked on sauce, when I would only have to resort to using a brillo pad an ruining the pan. That's foolish. Instead, and this seems perfectly normal and logical to me, I let the pan soak with soap and water to loosen stuck on mess. This way when I do wash it some 12 to 24 hours later, the mess easily comes loose and I don't need to scratch up my non-stick pans. I've never smelled anything from the vicinity of the sink, so it's not as though my dirty pots and pans smell, especially since they are coated with SOAP. It was mentioned that I also left a pan in the sink over the weekend, (but it was not specified when I commited this heinous act). I do recall leaving one pan in the sink for an extended period of time, and that was the last time I had made banana bread, which of course requires that the pan be coated in Pam and flour to keep the bread from sticking to the non-stick pan (silly banana bread). So of course to avoid using abrasives on my non-stick loaf pan, I let the damn thing soak. What a tragedy. I made bread for people (and clearly they liked it, because I got one piece out of the whole damn loaf) and I get yelled at because I want to properly care for my cookware. Foolish.

Besides, Kelly isn't following the rules either. If she wants to complain about something as stupid as dishes, then she should remember that she told us she would let us know when she was having someone over, including her boyfriend. She also said that he wouldn't be up all the time because this is our space too. He's there all the time, and I never know he'll be there until I see him sitting on the couch. What curtesy have I been afforded. I get out of the shower and he's there. I'm sorry, but my towel does not completely cover me, and Kelly, your boyfriend just generally makes me uncomfortable. Here's the difference between you and I though: I DON'T BITCH ABOUT WHAT YOU DO TO OTHER PEOPLE IN THE APARTMENT WHEN I KNOW THAT THEY'LL TELL YOU, because that would be stupid wouldn't it? You just assume that because you're the amazing Kelly everyone is on your side, but that's not the way it is.

If you want to be a stickler for the apartment rules, then start abiding by them yourself, stop letting your boyfriend become roommate #7, and get your shit out of my cabinet.

Resurrection

I have decided to resurrect this blog, but don't keep your hopes up. I just need someplace to vent that no one I know seems to know about. The last time I updated this I was a senior in high school, and now I'm a junior in college. If you really want to know what happened in between then and now, leave me a message and I'll link you to livejournal. Suffice to say I've changed a bit, and the people I'm around are much different. (At least I believe they are anyways).