I stopped doing a blog for all the right reasons. Main one was my dial up - just really annoyingly slow and glitch filled, posting. The other was my POV is not needed. I could've told me that. But nobody ever listens to me. Even me. Especially me.
Then I re-took the Jungian personality test. The extended play version, for people who are really insecure, not to mention bored. However, with the aforementioned dial up, it was actually a test of will. So, a win-win for my psyche. I had hopes. I was the same I was first time I took it.
Here's the yin and yang. Or yin and Jung? Two of the famous people I am most like are Mother Theresa and Mel Gibson. Lately, MT has been really quiet. Mel? the bi-polar opposite. Except for the filmography, the bank account(s) & all those kids, I see the resemblance. Mother Theresa? I dress like her. But only on the last Friday of every month at a very special club. Don't ask, don't yell. . ..
According to the results, only one(1)per cent of the Earth's population share my personality type with me. That's still a lot - six plus million. I went to a forum for my type. Nobody was home. Well, they were "home," just not interested in interacting. It was OK - I understood. Being I am very empathic.
At the same time, I was getting emails from Facebook until I couldn't take it, I attempted to see if my dial up would allow me to join in the obvious fun. It did. I could do basic things and interact with some people I hadn't had contact with in a long time. Too bad most of that was a one off. In less than a week, it was back to the same hard core, who'd been gracious enough to reply to my emails in the last few years. Not being sarcastic there. I have great affection for them. Unfortunately, I was hoping at least one of my former, what's that term? "love interests" would show some love interest. Na. Da.
I admit I probably should have used my real name. Didn't. Didn't want to, really. I figured true love would recognize me - a boy's got to have some magic. Yeah, sometimes the magic works. Mostly, it don't. This is also because these chicks may be hanging on Facebook, but they aren't alone. I always believed if you have one, maybe two good friends in life, you are blessed. But 349? 1,118? ∞! guess I'm just envious.
My worst enemy is myself. Except for that creep in Boston, and he knows who he is. At my advanced age, I'm still an iconoclast and a wiseass. Those two traits have successfully kept me single and/or unattached most of my life. Not that I didn't do some banging. I might have written this before, some place else - but I used to go to parties a lot. But I was often shifting through circles of acquaintances. Most times I'd be there solo. And I'd never drink alcohol. The prevailing opinion was then, as now: a man 30+ /single = gay. Not drinking = AA. Kind of rhymes. Kind of wrong.
I don't drink because I do not like the taste of alcohol. I don't like the taste of artificial sweeteners either, just ask Lipton Tea (free coupons! sweet, but naturally, natch). And I am not gay. Had I been given the opportunity when young and mucho cuter to engage in bi-play to satisfy the twisted urges of a room full of hot chicks to see some man-man, would I have done it? not without sworn affidavits that I'd be off with two of them later. Guaranteed after making that demand, I'd be out on my hetero ass. Knowing how my life goes - the ugliest gay man would've followed me out, told me he could make me happier than any woman and he had a place a cab ride away. That's when you know you're not gay. Just superficial.
I just dumped the Facebook account. I was getting depressed, though I was glad to see how well some of my old pals, palettes and their families are doing. Too many of their daughters are attractive - much more than 1%, and now I know, that's a lot. Next time I'll use my real name. And a photo of Mother Theresa.
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