Myers Briggs

Casey, my Houseguest, was staying at my house the other week, as a Houseguest is wont to do. B was in San Francisco. Casey helped with Ari. Then we stayed up late (for me) and sat on the porch a lot, as is required in my house, for anyone, really, but especially Houseguests.

Casey is into quizzes--like personality ones. She has a book on genotypes, and is also into the Myers Briggs, and the Enneagram, and oh I don't know a ton of stuff. She has categorized the bejesus out of me and my family members. My genotype is hunter, which explains why I love meat (also--it is good, yo) and why I jump ten feet at any sudden noise and am a morning person and why my sense of smell is better than is good for me and why I'm graceful mostly, but a total spaz if I have to carry shit. (Other genotypes do the carrying. I only carry a spear, mothafuckas!)  I'm an enthusiast/helper on the Enneagram thing (You are supposed to pick only one, but my score was tied! What am I supposed to do?) I am, or so I'd thought, an INFJ on the Myers Briggs doohickey. And a rat and an Aries with Cancer moon and Cancer rising, and my favorite number is 7, or sometimes 9, except when it's 326 (kidding--who the hell likes 326?), and my spirit animal is the Tasmanian devil (or sometimes, Animal from the Muppets), and my colors are blaze and leaf and seafoam. (I may have mentioned this last bit before. If so, deal with it. Colors are fun!)

This is Casey's spirit animal. But, I think she cheats: Human beings don't count as spirit animals. If they did, we'd all be David Bowie!

For some reason, recently, I've been feeling more like an E than an I (on the Myers Briggs), so I took the test again. And! My whole situation has altered!

Imagine my alarm. First of all, the test authors cannot spell extrovert. Doesn't that seem like something they might want to check on? I mean: If you're writing a word 23593 times all over your site, here's a tip: look it up! But, beyond that, what does all this mean? Well, from what I understand I now like other people more than self, and I am a P instead of a J. P is for pussy. J is for jerk. I think actually it's supposed to be perceiving and judging or some shit. Whatevs. We all know what Myers and Briggs were afraid to say. 

Evidently, though, B and I are much more compatible now that I am a pussy instead of a jerk. And I am more compatible with Casey and many other of my peops, too. I guess because, by definition, a pussy will bend to the will of others. Perhaps I should change my spirit animal because Animal is no pussy. But, what shall I be? A dove or something? Gag me. Right? And a dove is not an extrovert. So, I guess I'd better be a phoenix. Or a penguin? Phoenix is kind of badass, and now that I'm a pussy, I don't get to be badass anymore. Bumble bee would be cute, even if it is a bug. And they totally seem like emo, extroverted pussies. I don't care what any of you bitches say: I'm not being an elephant! Just drop that idea right there. I shan't be an enormous, smelly beast, no matter how genius it is. I do not care that they cry and shit, either. Cry all you want, elephants; you'll never be my spirit animal. Sigh. It is all so complicated, this navel-gazing we must endure from selves! How does anyone survive it? Truly.

The end.