Personality Tests

I'm a sucker for a good personality test. It has to be difficult, however. I can see results a mile away, and can't help tweaking my answer toward one result or another, or spreading my answers out so I know the result could have gone in multiple directions.

This one, however, stumped me. (Disclaimer: flashy lights, avoid if epileptic.) You're given a couple circles on a pulsing background and asked a question, such as, "Which one is angry?" or "Where will you never be safe?"

I, being the smart-aleck I am, started out picking the opposite of what I thought was obvious. As I went through it got a little disturbing, and I started to play it straight. My results were... me.

Though quiet on the outside, you are often the hidden hero; someone who rushes in when needed and then after the emergency is over fades back into the woodwork. Because of this sense of duty and honor, you can also on occasion be rigid in your viewpoint and unyielding in the face of other ways of thinking. Usually cynical and rarely trusting of others, you maintain a small set of intimate friends. These bonds are stronger than most. You are always grounded in the present moment. Your close bonds can also lead to clique-ishness and a tendency to gossip about those who are deemed less worthy. You are an integrative thinker, collecting data from a wide range of sources and applying it to your worldview. You can become overly task-oriented. In stressful situations you often withdraw from the world to seek peace in contemplation. You often seem cold and withdrawn. Often you will withdraw rather than verbalize your discontent.

Maybe not the best parts of me, but that is me, minus the bravado. That's me minus the logic that keeps me going. "I feel ____, but logically I know ____, so I refuse to show anger because I have no real reason to be angry."

Eh, it makes my mind swim. So of course I took the second test in the series immediately.

This one was four pulsing colored squares, each with shadowy figures in the center. "Which one knows your secret?" "Which is better than you?" Entirely different results, but still me.

A risk taking individual who fights against the burdens of life through a quest for excessive stimuli. This individual is not only impulsive but admires impulsive behavior, as this is perceived as being free of the exhaustion he or she feels from everyday life. Best method of entry is to appeal to the novel and the future development of our protocol. 

This client feels that times have come to a juncture that is requiring immediate action. This belief is often mistaken however and such an individual can react to perceived threats with overzealous behavior or asymmetrical responses. This client will not heed advice, whether good or bad, and will take his or her own guidance, even if it is only chosen as a means of asserting individuation.

This one cut deeper. Part of it is who I want to be. I want to take risks. I want something to truly interest me. Yes, I admire people who can set aside that very logic that I hold to and do what they want. Freedom is a heady thought. Freedom from constantly thinking about the consequences and deciding "It's not worth it," because maybe sometimes it is.

Also, interesting little fact here: When trying to read the second paragraph, I blanked out. I do that sometimes when something hits too close, or is too stressful. Rather than stressing over it, I just lose my train of thought and have to start over (much easier when I can reread what I've written). A quick read tells me that I sometimes go overboard and I don't trust advice. Sometimes just to prove that I have my own mind.

Well, ouch.

You know what's really fun? They have a third test, complete with pulsing lights and disconcerting noises.

You feel frustrated in your attempts to make your will manifest in a relationship, either personal or public. This frustration can be seen by others as irritability or anxiety and occasionally a tendency to drift into righteous anger. There is a feeling that society or people are holding you back, which can lead to a moral exhaustion and a sense of apathy if allowed to fester. If this continues you will ultimately desire only to be left alone.

Insecurity is the watchword for you at this moment. There is a strong sense that you have been socially demeaned or ignored recently. Hopes and dreams have been stymied, leading to an ever greater anxiety or unease. You need reassurance and to believe that your problems will someday be overcome, whether or not this is actually the case. Often your anxieties will lead you to become unreasonable or demanding. 

Mild discomfort now. I'd really rather deny this one and delete this entire post, but I won't let myself.

Big Disclaimer:
The tests I just took may beat your ego to death and creep you the heck out. In fact, they recommend not taking them unless you have a clinician ready to look at your results. I don't know if I just took one for the team or if I'm psyching myself out.

Little Disclaimer:
I love stuff that messes with your mind. For example, The Game, starring Michael Douglas, is an awesome movie that will drag your brain through the mud, push it off the roof on your dad's birthday, then laugh at you.

The moral of this blog post: How I entertain myself alone on the Internet.

A Kid, a Puppy, and a Pointless Story

I was looking over my blog and thought I might go ahead and update you about the dog situation. Quick recap: Excited puppy too much for 11-year-old girl to cope with.

When my sister calmed down, she decided to have a puppy/kid training lesson, and it was a success. The puppy got treats for keeping her paws on the floor instead of jumping, and since it was a specific lesson with specific instructions, my daughter concentrated and obeyed. By the end, she was able to walk across the room without squealing, the puppy was able to follow her without jumping, and she could feed the puppy a treat from her bare hand, though she tended to drop it more often than not.

Another success began with a recent question: How come nobody ever takes me to the movies?

The answer, of course, is: one time, you went to the movies with grandpa and ran out crying during a preview for Coraline. He didn't catch you until you were outside, and you were maybe seven years old. You then began refusing to go into movie theaters.

That's not what I said, though. I said, "Why, do you want to go to the movies?" She did, so we went, and it was a normal movie experience. Since this is all rather anticlimactic, here's a cheese factory story:

One time, at the cheese factory, a coworker told us that he'd heard a completely pointless story once, and it had inspired him to learn to tell completely pointless stories. Here is his story:

He was under the influence of a mind-altering substance and had locked himself out of his apartment. Since he was locked out, he went for a walk. He realized at some point that he wasn't at all sober and he'd wandered into a very bad neighborhood. He was lost and very possibly in danger, so he called the cops on himself. They took him in and locked him up.

An older man there who was very friendly asked him, "Do you like boys, or girls?"

That was pretty much the end of the story. We all looked at each other in confusion. A story like that had to have an ending, didn't it? No, apparently it didn't.

"Well, did you get back into your apartment?"

Yes.

"How?!"

Oh, I'd left the window unlocked. I climbed through.

Mr. Former-Coworker, if you ever read this, thank you. I've told that story so many times, and the looks it gets me are priceless.

A New Blog

Why, in the name of all that is good in this world, would I start a second blog? You rarely get as much as a post per month out of me as-is, unless I'm feeling especially moody, right?

This second blog, depending on your taste, might just fill those gaps. That is why.

I love to write. I write about my misadventures, I write about living with Clinical Depression, and occasionally I tuck something in for your amusement. Plus the cheese factory stories. It wouldn't be my blog if you didn't hear some cheese anecdotes now and then. Unfortunately, posts like these depend on my mood and whether anything is happening that I deem interesting enough to write about.

The rest of the time I write fiction. I write one-page blurbs about a set of characters my friends are familiar with, and they seem to enjoy getting my messages: Here, read this. Did you like it? Did you like the part where they decided to make out?

Oh yeah, I ought to put a disclaimer in here somewhere.

Disclaimer:

My short fiction explores themes which require an open-minded audience. It deals with discovering sexuality, living with difficult decisions, and loss. It's snapshots of characters' lives, in no particular order. It may feature fantasy elements, it may be fluffy bits of same-sex relationships. And it's fiction.

That is why it needs its own blog. This blog is my personal thoughts and experiences. It's things that actually happen to me, through glasses tinted with my sense of humor and perspective. It's normal events presented with flair and accidents of life presented as everyday occurrences.

This blog will continue as it has since October 2010 (sporadically). But for those who are interested in what my mind can come up with out of nothing, I offer you Dahlia at Large. If you are not interested, stay here and don't worry about it. Unless it spills over into my "real" life, you won't even hear about it again.

DSL - Dog-Specific Legislation

My sister has rottweilers. If you just grimaced or shuddered, feel free to hit the back button, because the dogs are not the problem in this story. The dogs are house pets. One is from a long line of show dogs, and spends most of his time cuddling and asking to be pet. The other is from a line of working dogs, and enjoys fetching things and learning commands. A busy dog is a happy dog, and these dogs are happy.

Puppies do not come trained, this is a sad fact of life. Kids don't come trained, either. When a puppy was introduced to my 11-year-old daughter, there was much drama because puppies nip, and they have no sense of personal boundaries whatsoever. It has been six months now. The puppy is quite a bit bigger and far better trained. She knows things like off, down, toy, bring, and leave it. The kid, however, does not seem to understand this.

My daughter panics every time the puppy comes toward her. The puppy's intentions are greet-and-sniff. My daughter starts turning away to cower against something, squealing, bending and covering her face. Unless something has happened with her father's dog that I don't know about, she's never been hurt by a dog in her life, and yet she acts terrified.

The puppy sees this squealing and body-contorting, and thinks my daughter is initiating play. My daughter won't listen to simple commands, such as Say off, or Ignore her and keep walking, so the puppy bounces or jumps up or yips, and my daughter claims that the dog has attacked her.

Let's pause a moment. The puppy is a rottweiler. What could happen if a melodramatic pre-teen goes to school and tells someone that a rottweiler attacked her? There's a possibility that two pets could be taken from their home and put down, isn't there? Even if neither dog has ever left a mark?

My sister is a certified dog trainer. It drives her crazy that my daughter, after six months of living with my sister and her dogs, still panics. But only over the puppy. The full-grown male rottweiler she's fine with. He can come greet her and she pats his head awkwardly. He tends to move slower in general, but he is no less capable of acting like a dog than the puppy is.

My daughter is afraid of the puppy's potential to hurt her. She's done this with other things, too. For example: she's been afraid of movie theaters since she was about seven because her dad took her to a scary movie once and she doesn't want to get scared.

My daughter doesn't want to listen to instructions because her fear has gotten in the way, and my sister is so upset that she doesn't want to work with the kid. My sister has taken this stubbornness or fear or whatever it is as a personal insult.

I have now ranted myself into either mental exhaustion or a block, which means that I might have been about to really get somewhere. Can't think anymore, though. My sister's crying because my daughter cries every time the puppy comes up, and my daughter is in her bedroom doing whatever 11-year-old girls do in their rooms alone.

So one time, at the cheese factory, they decided to tell a guy he was being fired for a bunch of tardies during his lunch break. Then they sent him back to finish work all emotional and he cut his hand pretty badly with a box knife. The whole line had to be shut down so they could clean everything. They decided after that to maybe start giving people notice on Fridays after their shifts.

Hunting for my Supper (True Story)

I stalked my prey through the wilds of the kitchen, with only my spear and net to protect me. When I caught scent of her, I crouched, peering through the meagre light until, yes, a cache of eggs lay nestled in the brush. My net took care of those, and soon enough I had found her.

Ah, she was a beaut, all pale golden, and she was ready for me. Oh yes.

I threw my spear too soon and thought I'd lost her! She gave a merry chase, but in the end, she succumbed. At last I slid the omelette onto my plate, and realized that I really need to write something if that's how I entertain myself over the stove.

Please say I'm not the only adult person who occasionally does this.

Close, But No Job

The interview was an hour long. They didn't seem interested in my work, but asked a lot of questions about my field in general, giving me the impression that they weren't actually sure what they wanted. They didn't ask for references until last night, via e-mail. Two professional and two personal. I sent them off today, and within a couple hours, got back a rejection e-mail.

We appreciate the time you took to come out Wednesday, but we have decided we are looking for someone with a little more previous work experience for this specific position.

I actually wonder if anyone else applied for the job. I live in the middle of nowhere, and this place is located just outside town. There are plenty of lawyers, nurses, truckers, and construction workers here, but not so many designers. They may have decided they didn't need anyone; who knows?

So I'll just be overthere eating a bowl of comfort cereal and learning about Amazon Mechanical Turking...

I Don't Believe in Luck

I found a sequin on the floor. That may seem random, but in my mind, it's a little eerie. Let's go waaaay back to the 1900's, when I was in high school. There were some rough times, and I did a lot of praying as well as some tinkering in wicca, and a lot of things I prayed for came true (though, as usual with life, not in quite the ways I expected). I did not live in a house full of glitter and confetti. My mom hated the stuff, and so my tendency to find a piece of metallic confetti in some random shape in between a prayer and something life-changing happening was unexpected. I have a sister, but she's not really the glitter and confetti type either.

I have a job interview in just over an hour, my first job interview in three and a half years. Life has done a lot of shitting on me in the past five or ten years, so no confetti and little luck. It's hard times all around. My family decided that since 13 is supposed to be an unlucky number and we're among the unluckiest people we know, all that unluck would cancel itself out and this could be an okay year.

The first resume I sent out this year, one in the field I want to get into, got me an e-mail asking for an interview two days after I sent it. I found a sequin, recognizably from one of my daughter's shirts, on the kitchen floor not fifteen minutes ago.

Logic says that shirt went through the kitchen yesterday on its way between the dryer and her bedroom, but I don't care, I'm taking it! Random sign from the glitter angels! Confidence!

I'm so sick with nerves that I only slept an hour and a half last night. I'll tell you guys how it goes.