Hello

   I know I've been quiet lately, and you may think it's because...

1. My work, social life, etc. is keeping me soooooooooooo busy that I don't have time to blog, or
2. I'm experiencing writer's block

   Actually,

1. My social life has been the same [pretty much, minus some stuff] as it always is, which suits me fine 
2. I'm not experiencing writer's block. My fingers have been itching to tell all, but paradoxically, I don't want to tell.

   Have you ever experienced that feeling of wanting to pull back from everything and everyone around you because you're just so upset? And you don't feel like sharing it with anyone because the only thing you have to share right then is this really horrible feeling, which you don't wish to infect anyone else with?

   Well, that was pretty much how I've felt for the past couple of weeks. Just a little dark moment before the end of the year to make me look forward to the New Year [which I'll kick off with a little trip away from here... yey!].

   All is well now, and I want to get up and running again. I think I'll start with a huge plate of pasta carbonara and some brownies. Yum!

   I hope anyone who reads this had a great Christmas and has a wonderful New Year's.

Things I Learned From Cartoons

1. Mutant rat-men are good and never trust a man who wears a silver mask and a purple cape who hangs around with a mutant brain. [Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles]
2. The best disguise is a suit and glasses. Hey, one man in a suit looks the same as the next one, right? [Superman]
3. Road runners may have the brains, but coyotes are the ones with the money. How else can they afford the endless supply of anvils and dynamite? [Road Runner]
4. Cats, dogs and ducks can all be best friends. [Mickey Mouse, Goofy and Donald Duck]
5. Chipmunks can sing and can socialise with humans perfectly. [Alvin and the Chipmunks]
6. If you are a stubborn teenager who goes against her dad's advice and seeks help from a witch, runs off to be with a boy from a different world, gets your whole society in danger so your father has to intervene, eventually your father will let you have your way. [The Little Mermaid]
7. Inter-class romantic relationships can work. [Aladdin]
8. A one-eyed, three-legged, green-skinned alien can pass off as a female human. Beware. [Lilo and Stitch]

Brush It Off , Kick It To The Side And Walk Away

A dust mote swirls lazily in the air.
A mouth opens.
Words pour out and push the dust mote around.
It lands on my shoulder.
It irritates me.
Might even anger me.
I open my mouth.
More words pour out.
Off the dust mote goes.
Swirling around and around, before landing on my shoulder again.
I'm annoyed.
But then I shrug and brush it off.
It falls to the ground.
I kick it out of my way and move on.
Moving on, moving on.
It is only dust.
It is nothing.
I will not allow it to turn into rock.

It is nothing.

My Personal Brand Of Ecstasy

One taste...
And I'm addicted...
Irrevocably so.

My poison... that cures.
My high... when I'm low.
My vice... that inspires my virtues.

My lifelong addiction...
Which I never want to get rid of.

Define Me, If You Can

During an interview once, I was asked... "What are your social skills like?"
A question that kind of threw me off-guard. I replied by saying, "Well, I get along fine with people. I don't have a problem socialising with others." Brilliant, right? I finished off this brilliant answer with..."My friends seem to like me just fine." Which earned me some laughs.
Anyhoo... a few more questions followed.
I read one of ScoMan's recent posts - hang on, I have a relevant point even though it may seem random. It was about the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which you can read here. So, I thought I'd take it as well. Click here to take it. Apparently, I am an INFP type - an Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Perceiving type. I am a...

• moderately expressed introvert
  
• slightly expressed intuitive personality
  
• distinctively expressed feeling personality
  
• slightly expressed perceiving personality

But what does it all mean?
It means I'm a healer, according to D. Keirsey.
"Healers present a calm and serene face to the world, and can seem shy, even distant around others. But inside they're anything but serene, having a capacity for personal caring rarely found in the other types. Healers care deeply about the inner life of a few special persons, or about a favorite cause in the world at large. And their great passion is to heal the conflicts that trouble individuals, or that divide groups, and thus to bring wholeness, or health, to themselves, their loved ones, and their community."

The INFP profile is...

Introverted Feeling

INFPs live primarily in a rich inner world of introverted Feeling. Being inward-turning, the natural attraction is away from world and toward essence and ideal. This introversion of dominant Feeling, receiving its data from extraverted intuition, must be the source of the quixotic nature of these usually gentle beings. Feeling is caught in the approach- avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it homo sapiens or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind.

Extraverted iNtuition

Extraverted intuition faces outward, greeting the world on behalf of Feeling. What the observer usually sees is creativity with implied good will. Intuition spawns this type's philosophical bent and strengthens pattern perception. It combines as auxiliary with introverted Feeling and gives rise to unusual skill in both character development and fluency with language--a sound basis for the development of literary facility. If INTPs aspire to word mechanics, INFPs would be verbal artists.

Introverted Sensing

Sensing is introverted and often invisible. This stealth function in the third position gives INFPs a natural inclination toward absent- mindedness and other-worldliness, however, Feeling's strong people awareness provides a balancing, mitigating effect. This introverted Sensing is somewhat categorical, a subdued version of SJ sensing. In the third position, however, it is easily overridden by the stronger functions.

Extraverted Thinking

The INFP may turn to inferior extraverted Thinking for help in focusing on externals and for closure. INFPs can even masquerade in their ESTJ business suit, but not without expending considerable energy. The inferior, problematic nature of Extraverted Thinking is its lack of context and proportion. Single impersonal facts may loom large or attain higher priority than more salient principles which are all but overlooked.

It seems William Shakespeare was an INFP. Could this mean that I am destined to be the next Shakespeare? I wish.

Anyway, I wish that next time someone asks me to tell them about myself, I can just print out the results of this test and tell them to read for themselves. They'd probably kick me right out of the interview if I did that.

Broken Images

I'd like to share one of my favourite poems with you.

In Broken Images

He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.

He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images,

Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.

Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact,
Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.

When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.

He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.

He in a new confusion of his understanding;
I in a new understanding of my confusion.

Robert Graves

I have my own reasons for loving it so much. To me, it says that it's fine to be different. He is so sure and confident that it gives me confidence. And that it's perfectly fine to be slow, as long as you're sure of where you're going.

3,2,1... And Action!

   So, there we were.

   He looked at me.

   I looked right back at him.

   He looked doubtful.

   I hoped I looked calm.

   He appeared intimidating.

   I refused to be intimidated.

   He wasn't impressed.

   Neither was I.

   He was obligated to perform his duty.

   I was obligated to perform mine.

   He was the director.

   I was the actor auditioning for the part.

   He looked at me.

   He didn't speak, but his eyes said it all.

   He thought I was weak.

   I looked at him.

   I didn't speak, but I smiled.

   I thought he made a mistake in underestimating me.

   It was over.

   He wasn't impressed.

   But neither was I.

   He played his part perfectly.

   But I refused to play along.

   He left, probably annoyed that I wasted his time.

   I left, feeling a mixture of emotions.

   Needless to say, I didn't get the part.

   I am no actor.

   But why should I act?

The Most Insincere Apology Ever

1. I'm sorry I'm not aggressive enough.
2. I'm sorry I eat too many waffles.
3. I'm sorry I'm not ambitious enough.
4. I'm sorry I'm not that nice.
5. I'm sorry I can't please you all the time.
6. I'm sorry that you think you own me.
7. I'm sorry I sleep too much.
8. I'm sorry I have issues.
9. I'm sorry I can't forgive you yet.
10. I'm sorry I can't give up quite yet.
11. I'm sorry I try too hard sometimes.
12. I'm sorry I lie sometimes.
13. I'm sorry I feel like hiding sometimes.
14. I'm sorry I want to push you away.
15. I'm sorry I have too many shoes.
16. I'm sorry I watch too much TV.
17. I'm sorry I love him so, so, so much.
18. I'm sorry you think I'm not good enough.
19. I'm sorry to disagree with you.
20. I'm sorry your image of me is just an illusion.
21. I'm sorry I refused to be an Economic major.
22. I'm sorry I can't change who I am just to please you.
23. I'm sorry I have my own dreams.
24. I'm sorry, but I'm staying on this path I chose.
25. I'm sorry you can't pin me down.
26. I'm sorry I'm a crap singer.
27. I'm sorry you think I'm boring.
28. I'm sorry I don't understand you.
29. I'm sorry you think I'm weak.
30. I'm sorry, but despite it all, I'm happy.

Pizza Wrap

When you're a student, you're too busy to cook. Or so you tell yourself as an excuse to keep buying kebabs and existing on chocolate biscuits and crisps.
But this is an all-time favourite of mine. It's so easy and quick to make, which is handy when you have unexpected guests.

You need:

1. tortilla wraps (I loved the herb ones)
2. roast turkey breasts (or whatever deli meats your prefer)
3. basic pasta sauce (any tomato-ey sauce will do)
4. optional: onions, peppers, olives, mushrooms, cheese

The steps:

1. roll out the wraps
2. spread the sauce in the middle of the wrap
3. arrange the meat and other ingredients on top
4. fold the wrap so that all the ingredients are tucked safely inside
5. pop into the oven for a while

Voila! And you're done. Serve piping hot.

Fire! Fire!

True story.

This happened when I was in my final year as a student in Swansea.

I was happily minding my own business [gasp, gasp, yes, I can mind my own business!], and playing Solitaire on my laptop [now, dead, may its pieces rest in peace].

I look out the window and what do I see?

Thick, almost-black smoke coming from the neighbour's house.
Now, any normal person would jump out of that chair and run outside to see what was going on.
Not me.
Oh, no. I continued to stare out that window for a few more minutes.
I think I was waiting for one of my housemates to run down the stairs screaming.
Oh, but wait. Only three bedrooms face the back garden - mine, the room directly above mine and the room at the back of the house. And those two were never in anyway.
So, I slowly got out of that chair and walked [not run] to the back garden to check if there really was a fire.
Yes, there was a huge fire. Huh.
So, I walked quickly back to my room and looked out the window again. Yup, smoke still there.
Now, this is where I get incredibly silly. I still can't believe I did what I did. I was trying to decide what to take with me in case the fire spread and burned down our house. Laptop, of course and passport and my purse.
The essentials, right?
Then, I had this thought. If indeed the house burned down, I wanted to make sure I had a nice outfit on [if it were to be the only outfit I saved]. So I changed. All the while the smoke is still billowing outside my window.
Although nobody seems to be doing anything about it. The neighbours didn't seem to be running around trying to put out the fire, which confused me.
So I ran up to my housemate's room and told her about the fire.
What did she do?
She came downstairs with me, looked at it... and laughed.
Because of course, it was only a bonfire. They were burning rubbish or wood or whatever.
I was burning too... with embarrassment.
But hey, if you can't laugh at yourself, you're missing out on a lot of laughter, right?

P/S Just a little something to keep you entertained while I'm away finishing this thing I'm working on, which is really great. I have no idea when it will be finished though as my partner and I are really loving it and stretching it out. Hopefully, you'll love it as much as we're loving it.

Last Week

Well, last week was a complete bust. It was such a crappy week.
Let's hope this week will be better.
Observation for last week: 20-somethings can be more childish and petty than middle-school kids.
Hope for this coming week: Let's hope everything will fall into place.

Clash Of The Two Planets: Venus Vs. Mars

Incidentally, Venus was the Roman goddess of love and Mars was the Roman god of war. Love vs. War. Hmmm... This excerpt I'm going to share with you demonstrates that perfectly. I was given this piece of paper to read by a friend. It's hysterical. I'm not quite sure of the origins of this excerpt or where she got it from. Anyway, here it is.


Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix.

The professor told his class one day. "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will email your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me.

The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely no talking outside of the emails and anything you wish to say must be written in the email The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his students, Rebecca and Gary.

The Story
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favourite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much, her asthma started aching up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squad room now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about that the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit establishes. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle BEAM FLASHED out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for physically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel", Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out of the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she wondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anudrian mother ship launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress, had left Earth a defenseless target to the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty, the Anudrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic! Whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some sort of other F****** TEA???! Oh no, WHAT AM I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)
A*****e!

(Gary)
B***h!

(Rebecca)
F*** YOU, YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)
Go drink some tea, w****!

(Teacher)
A+... I really liked this one.



That concludes the story. Hysterical, no?
Kind of makes me feel like doing a tandem story myself. Scott, will you be interested in joining me in my attempt to prove that not all girls agonize over which tea to drink and not all men are neanderthals?

Strength

When your desires burn so brightly
And the fire, the hunger inside you consumes you
Your every breath and every thought
Whisper only one thing
Over and over again
The dream you chase after
Run after
A tiny, delicate seed
Set in flames by your desire
And hunger
Until all that is left
Is you
On the ground
Covered with the ashes of a broken dream
And you try to tell your broken heart
That it is strong enough to go on.

Hit The Pedal To The Metal

My driving instructor was a rather difficult man. He loved to smoke while I was driving [and I just loathe the smell of cigarettes, but I was too terrified to ask him not to do it] and insisted on holding my foot down with a stick when he was teaching me how to do my balancing on the little 'hill'. [Not that I blame him. The first couple of times up that hill resulted in my car going backwards down that hill with me screaming my head off and him yelling at me not to swing my steering wheel around.]

Anyhoo... that's all in the past. I am now a licensed driver and have been since February. And despite the rough start, I'm a pretty good driver now. So, I suppose my instructor did a pretty good job.

But that's not the point of this post.

I suddenly remembered an episode of Ellen that I saw months ago, which really made me laugh. I love Ellen. She always cracks me up. Anyway, in that episode, Ellen had gone to a driving school and was taking some of the students for a drive.

She stopped by an ice-cream drive-through [I think it was Baskin Robbins?], and bought about 4 ice-creams and they put it in a cardboard tray thingy for her. So, Ellen happily drove off and ate her ice-cream. This is the following conversation that ensued [the gist of it, I can't remember her exact words, obviously].

Student: Isn't that dangerous?

Ellen: Oh, no, no.

Student: Are you sure?

Ellen: Yes. You're not supposed to drink and drive. That's dangerous. But you can eat and drive.

Student: Oh.

I was in hysterics. If I tried to eat while driving, my instructor probably would have whacked me with his stick.