keirsey

Every few years, something happens to make me revisit the Keirsey Temperment Sorter.  In this case, it was a new friendship with someone who mentioned his own Keirsey result.  i first became acquainted with the sorter when i was given the test during the screening process for a job.  My score, no matter how many times i have taken, and no matter what personal advances and improvements have occurred in my life, has never changed.  i find that intriguing.

i am, this sorter tells me, a Rational.  The general characteristics of Rationals are as follows:

Rationals are the problem solving temperament, particularly if the problem has to do with the many complex systems that make up the world around us. Rationals might tackle problems in organic systems such as plants and animals, or in mechanical systems such as railroads and computers, or in social systems such as families and companies and governments. But whatever systems fire their curiosity, Rationals will analyze them to understand how they work, so they can figure out how to make them work better.

In working with problems, Rationals try to find solutions that have application in the real world, but they are even more interested in the abstract concepts involved, the fundamental principles or natural laws that underlie the particular case. And they are completely pragmatic about their ways and means of achieving their ends. Rationals don't care about being politically correct. They are interested in the most efficient solutions possible, and will listen to anyone who has something useful to teach them, while disregarding any authority or customary procedure that wastes time and resources.

Rationals have an insatiable hunger to accomplish their goals and will work tirelessly on any project they have set their mind to. They are rigorously logical and fiercely independent in their thinking -- are indeed skeptical of all ideas, even their own -- and they believe they can overcome any obstacle with their will power. Often they are seen as cold and distant, but this is really the absorbed concentration they give to whatever problem they're working on. Whether designing a skyscraper or an experiment, developing a theory or a prototype technology, building an aircraft, a corporation, or a strategic alliance, Rationals value intelligence, in themselves and others, and they pride themselves on the ingenuity they bring to their problem solving.

Rationals are very scarce, comprising as little as 7 to 10 percent of the population. But because of their drive to unlock the secrets of nature, and to develop new technologies, they have done much to shape our world.

Rationals at Work

As a Rational, you seek to acquire and apply expertise. You thrive in an autonomous and intellectually stimulating workplace, working alongside other competent people, pursuing knowledge or creating systems. Your core need to follow the driving force of your own intelligence leads to particular career challenges. For example, recognition of your expertise may lead to your being put "in charge" of other people, as a manager, when you might prefer to remain immersed in projects of your own.

You are fascinated with developing strategic plans for others to use. In your preferred environment, you work behind the scenes while someone else takes the active leadership role. Often, you are driven to step in as leader when you become impatient with the way a project is going. In your ideal job, you independently analyze systems and make recommendations about how objectives will best be reached; someone else does the work of delegating work, motivating people, or enforcing work duties. You want challenge in your work and become frustrated when asked to merely follow routines, especially if those routines are inefficient.

***

More specifically, i am an INTJ (Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging.)  What does that mean?  Well:

To outsiders, INTJs may appear to project an aura of "definiteness", of self-confidence. This self-confidence, sometimes mistaken for simple arrogance by the less decisive, is actually of a very specific rather than a general nature; its source lies in the specialized knowledge systems that most INTJs start building at an early age. When it comes to their own areas of expertise -- and INTJs can have several -- they will be able to tell you almost immediately whether or not they can help you, and if so, how. INTJs know what they know, and perhaps still more importantly, they know what they don't know.

INTJs are perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes their interest. What prevents them from becoming chronically bogged down in this pursuit of perfection is the pragmatism so characteristic of the type: INTJs apply (often ruthlessly) the criterion "Does it work?" to everything from their own research efforts to the prevailing social norms. This in turn produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing the INTJ from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake.

INTJs are known as the "Systems Builders" of the types, perhaps in part because they possess the unusual trait combination of imagination and reliability. Whatever system an INTJ happens to be working on is for them the equivalent of a moral cause to an INFJ; both perfectionism and disregard for authority may come into play, as INTJs can be unsparing of both themselves and the others on the project. Anyone considered to be "slacking," including superiors, will lose their respect -- and will generally be made aware of this; INTJs have also been known to take it upon themselves to implement critical decisions without consulting their supervisors or co-workers. On the other hand, they do tend to be scrupulous and even-handed about recognizing the individual contributions that have gone into a project, and have a gift for seizing opportunities which others might not even notice.

In the broadest terms, what INTJs "do" tends to be what they "know". Typical INTJ career choices are in the sciences and engineering, but they can be found wherever a combination of intellect and incisiveness are required (e.g., law, some areas of academia). INTJs can rise to management positions when they are willing to invest time in marketing their abilities as well as enhancing them, and (whether for the sake of ambition or the desire for privacy) many also find it useful to learn to simulate some degree of surface conformism in order to mask their inherent unconventionality.

Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ's Achilles heel. While they are capable of caring deeply for others (usually a select few), and are willing to spend a great deal of time and effort on a relationship, the knowledge and self-confidence that make them so successful in other areas can suddenly abandon or mislead them in interpersonal situations.

This happens in part because many INTJs do not readily grasp the social rituals; for instance, they tend to have little patience and less understanding of such things as small talk and flirtation (which most types consider half the fun of a relationship). To complicate matters, INTJs are usually extremely private people, and can often be naturally impassive as well, which makes them easy to misread and misunderstand. Perhaps the most fundamental problem, however, is that INTJs really want people to make sense. :-) This sometimes results in a peculiar naivete', paralleling that of many Fs -- only instead of expecting inexhaustible affection and empathy from a romantic relationship, the INTJ will expect inexhaustible reasonability and directness.

Probably the strongest INTJ assets in the interpersonal area are their intuitive abilities and their willingness to "work at" a relationship. Although as Ts they do not always have the kind of natural empathy that many Fs do, the Intuitive function can often act as a good substitute by synthesizing the probable meanings behind such things as tone of voice, turn of phrase, and facial expression. This ability can then be honed and directed by consistent, repeated efforts to understand and support those they care about, and those relationships which ultimately do become established with an INTJ tend to be characterized by their robustness, stability, and good communications.

Functional analysis:

Introverted iNtuition

INTJs are idea people. Anything is possible; everything is negotiable. Whatever the outer circumstances, INTJs are ever perceiving inner pattern-forms and using real-world materials to operationalize them. Others may see what is and wonder why; INTJs see what might be and say "Why not?!" Paradoxes, antinomies, and other contradictory phenomena aptly express these intuitors' amusement at those whom they feel may be taking a particular view of reality too seriously. INTJs enjoy developing unique solutions to complex problems.

Extroverted Thinking

Thinking in this auxiliary role is a workhorse. Closure is the payoff for efforts expended. Evaluation begs diagnosis; product drives process. As they come to light, Thinking tends, protects, affirms and directs iNtuition's offspring, fully equipping them for fulfilling and useful lives. A faithful pedagogue, Thinking argues not so much on its own behalf, but in defense of its charges. And through this process these impressionable ideas take on the likeness of their master.

Introverted Feeling

Feeling has a modest inner room, two doors down from the Most Imminent iNtuition. It doesn't get out much, but lends its influence on behalf of causes which are Good and Worthy and Humane. We may catch a glimpse of it in the unspoken attitude of good will, or the gracious smile or nod. Some question the existence of Feeling in this type, yet its unseen balance to Thinking is a cardinal dimension in the full measure of the INTJ's soul.

Extroverted Sensing

Sensing serves with a good will, or not at all. As other inferior functions, it has only a rudimentary awareness of context, amount or degree. Thus INTJs sweat the details or, at times, omit them. "I've made up my mind, don't confuse me with the facts" could well have been said by an INTJ on a mission. Sensing's extraverted attitude is evident in this type's bent to savor sensations rather than to merely categorize them. Indiscretions of indulgence are likely an expression of the unconscious vengeance of the inferior.

entropy

So, i just took this weird high entropy diagnostic test.  Yeah, i found the link online.  i honestly have no idea what it means, and even scoffed while i was taking it.  i strongly suspect the results are written in ways vague enough to seem as though they apply to everyone who reads them, but eh ... why not, right?

Here's the link to the test:  entropy

Here are my results:

You have an ideal of emotional connectedness that is never quite addressed, leaving you feeling annoyingly unfulfilled, even when being most intimate. An overarching perfectionism has left you feeling frustrated or anxious, since this lack of satisfaction will be seen as the possibility that you do not completely understand the world or else are not completely suited to it.

You are feeling the stress that results from a sense of being constrained by life. Anger is present, in direct proportion to the degree to which you feel that you are powerless to change the conditions of your problem. You want to find freedom through escape and are actively seeking a path to independence, perhaps in dangerous ways.

So what does it mean?  Anyone?

on and off

i am consistently entertained by online human behavior.  For the most part, i believe people are the same offline as they are online.  That belief has been reinforced by nearly all the opportunities i've had to meet people in person i initially encountered online.

You hear all the cautionary tales.  You know the inherent risks and dangers.  You do your best to try and ascertain how "real" the person is to whom you are talking before you find yourself in a compromising situation with them.  And, for the most part, things go well.  After all, it's difficult to perpetuate a lie when you're face to face.

Typically, those who have lied, those who have created a larger than life online persona won't take the chance of exposing that lie. They'll invent a million reasons why they can't meet you ... and, eventually, they will drift away, unwilling to risk whatever it is they get out of pretending to be something they are not.

i like to think of myself as a pretty savvy girl.  If the interest level is there, i'll typically insist on meeting right away.  There are exceptions ... there are always exceptions.  i've enjoyed, for instance, on online friendship with two people for over six years.  They are as different as they can possibly be.  One would very much like to meet me, and i've put him off, over and over.  He knows the reasons, and has been entirely gracious about it.  The other ...

... ah, the other.

He may not even exist.

My online experiences began with AOL.  i've met a handful of people from there, including the most important relationship, thus far, of my adult life. From there, i moved into blogging, and developed friendships and one or two relationships that way.  Both platforms left a great deal to be desired, including the whole "identification" process.  There seemed to be a great deal of waiting around for the right sort of person to fall in one's lap, so to speak.  This was a problem, especially for someone like me, who has little to no interest in the public scene, in munches, and in play parties.  i'm intensely private, and have a somewhat public profile due to my profession.  i do not like my worlds to collide.

The worlds ... both of them ... continue to grow smaller. Facebook, Twitter, Google +, Tumblr ... social networking has blurred the lines between online and offline anonymity.  We are all connected all the time.  In the not so distant past, we could network, but we had to be at our computers to do so.  Now, via smartphones, we've been untethered, so to speak.  Everything happens in the moment, and there is nowhere to hide. 

Enter FetLife ... essentially the Facebook of the kinky world.

In exactly the way Facebook transformed my existence and put me back in touch with a past I'd previously thought would always be just that, FetLife has opened a world of possibilities.  Profiles, once so helpful on AOL, are alive and well on the Fet.  Neat little labels allow us to look for partners in specific boxes ... and those boxes even allow for some ambiguity.  We can openly state our sexual orientation, our favorite fetishes, our relationship status.  We can post pictures, notes, use it as a journal, write erotic (or not so erotic) fiction.  We can join groups, both local and distant, specific or generic, which cater to our needs and desires.  And we can post comments on all that, exposing ourselves to others who (gasp) think like us.

It took me a while ... years, actually ... to warm up to the Fet.  i'm glad i did.

contemplative

i live a great deal inside my own head.  i think it is part of the reason that my journey (pause to hurl indelicately at my use of the word "journey") into submission has led me to men of deeper sadism, stronger dominance, and greater depravity. 

i want out of my head.

Everything i have done in the past 48 hours is somewhat at odds with the person i have become.  i'm controlled, typically ... very controlled and deliberate and - i'll just go ahead and say it - cold.  But i suddenly, unexpectedly found myself in a situation where i was unable to maintain that signature control.

It's funny to speak of control in such a way.  Me, the submissive, the girl who willingly, achingly even, wades into the void of someone else's darkness.  Control is a funny thing.  It can be a wall behind which one hides, clinging with an iron grip until it is suddenly wrested away and you are plunged into a sea of swirling black and red and white hot pain.  Until it no longer matters.  i am lost.  Reduced to nothing.

Out of my head.

And then i emerge, and find the wall is still there.  i creep behind it, where i belong, and i'm back.  Controlled.  Deliberate.  Cold.

It is far more frightening for someone like me when that tightly held measure of control is not ripped or pried or knocked away.  When a whispered word instead of a menacing growl loosens my grip.  When it is made ephemeral by a soft, subtle hand brushing a lock of hair from my eye instead of crashing against my temple.  When it is just ... gone.  No warnings.  No fanfare.  Just ... floating.  Reality, as it is wont to do, always comes back, and it did for me.  But i will never forget the night and those rare, fleeting moments when i did not lose control.  It simply ceased to be.

Reduced to nothing.  Out of my head.

some of you may remember ...

... my unfinished serialized work entitled "fallen."

Somehow, it didn't manage to make the move from Wordpress to Blogger.  (Actually, there's no "somehow" about it.  i know precisely why it didn't make it, but that's another story ... and it's uninteresting enough for me to just leave right where it is.  Nowhere.)

Anyway.  i very rarely get rid of words i've written, and "fallen" was no exception.  And so i've scooped it out of the "possible new projects" folder on my laptop, and i'm putting it back here.  Where it belongs.

And, as a little side note to the reason it didn't make the original trip, this is a work of fiction.  I wrote it long before you ever existed.  So don't flatter yourself.

fallen, part one

The wind howled between and around the buildings. Strong, at this height, gusts swirled and caught her long dark hair, whipping it painfully against her lips and cheeks, occasionally catching an eye protected only by the split second reflex that covered it with her eyelid. She looked down at her bare toes and focused on them, curled as they were over the edge of the flat roof upon which she stood. Beneath them, the distant street blurred, a backdrop of blended grays and blacks, scattered with bits of light, pierced occasionally by the sharp red of a braking motorist.

This place was cold and growing colder. She crossed her arms over her bare breasts and wondered at the new reactions to her environment. She had known that humans felt things ... pain, pleasure, heat, cold. Things of both comfort and discomfort. Forces of nature worked upon these creatures in varied ways. Some were good. Many ... not so much.

The coldness fell decidedly into the latter category. As the first drops of icy wetness hit her exposed skin, she felt a touch of fear begin. Unfurling slowly from the pit of her stomach, terror began to spread throughout her body. She lowered herself, trembling, to her knees on the ledge, fighting the panic. Her breathing became steadily shallower until her lungs began to burn in protest.

They had actually done it. She had been cast from Heaven.

Her transgressions no longer mattered. She slid down from the ledge onto the roof, scraping her ribs on the rough concrete. Pressing a hand to her side, she crept toward a corner, seeking shelter from the howling wind and increasing rain. Still, it found her.

She curled herself into a ball and turned her back on the torrent. She tried, instinctively, to wrap her wings around her body before she remembered that those were gone, as well. She had no power, no protection ... no way of knowing how to survive. The tears came then, to her disgust. At this evidence of weakness, self-loathing consumed her, but did not check the tears. Her anger built until she stood, turned her face to the teeming sky and screamed out her rage.

She collapsed into a naked, sobbing heap near her corner. She was lost. Stuck on Earth. Even the comforts of Hell, with its rules and retributions were denied her. Hell was too good for an angel of such arrogance and pride. The only place left for a being rejected by both God and Lucifer was Earth. Here, among the mortals, she would have to choose her path, make her own way, and suffer all the indignities of man.

From a dark room, several stories above the roof of the building upon which the angel cried, he watched. When the tiny huddled form hadn't moved for a quarter of an hour, he turned away from the window. He opened his fist to look at the obsidian cross he'd clutched tightly while he watched her. He untangled the strand of hematite beads from his fingers, kissed the cross, slipped it into his coat pocket, and then picked up his keys from the table and left the room.

angels and demons and smut ...

... (oh, my!)

So, over the weekend, i spent some time with Olivia, Jason, Sera, and Micah, my four main characters from the Decalogue series i created sometime in 2007 and 2008.  i tweaked and smoothed and brainstormed a bit, and in the wee hours of the morning on Monday, i sent a proposal to my editor.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, beautiful friends. 

Blurring the lines between the rather anonymous openness of my life here and the rather open anonymity of my actual real world existence is a rather daunting thought.  There will be some overlap ... it is unavoidable.  For the most part, i'm okay with that.  The people who know me and love me best won't be either judgmental or surprised, but they will have questions.

i'm not totally sure i'm ready to answer them.

Regardless, i've taken the step, and i'll see it through.  If Decalogue makes it out into the world, you can rest assured that the rest of my angels, demons, virtues, and villains will soon follow.  i love my characters.  i think they deserve a chance to exist.

well said ...

"In politics, stupidity is not a handicap." ~ Napoleon Bonaparte

sometimes ...

... my resolve weakens with embarrassing ease.  Taking a stand is incredibly simple when the thing about which one has drawn the metaphorical line in the sand is conspicuously absent from one's life.  It is easy, for example, to stop smoking if one has no access to cigarettes.

i watched my resolution crumble with a wry smile.  i'm not back where i was, precisely, nor am i back to what i was ... precisely.  i doubt that would ever be allowed.  But i am back.

So.  Anyhoo.  Let's make this about me, shall we?

My writing career is in a state of flux, which has left me with time on my hands and a great deal about which to think.  A walk down memory lane had me spending in inordinate amount of time in my archives, rereading nearly everything, but most especially my serialized fiction.

i think it is time for those stories to find wings and fly.

i'm starting with Decalogue.  i have an opportunity, you see, to take my experience and expand it.  Historical romance was a good jumping off point, but with the series completed (except for the final book, which is finished, but stuck in Purgatory while my publisher completes the corporate life cycle and dies,) i think it is time to head in a new direction.

Wish me luck, beautiful friends, as i attempt to liberate my angels and demons.

dark passenger

"I'm not sure what I am.  I just know there's something dark in me.  I hide it.  I certainly don't talk about it.  But it's there.  Always.


This dark passenger.


And when he's driving, I feel ... alive.  Half sick with the thrill, complete wrongness.  I don't fight him.  I don't want to.  He's all I've got.  Nothing else could love me, not even, especially not me.


Or is that just the lie the dark passenger tells me?  Because lately, there are these moments when I feel ... connected to something else, someone.  And it's like the mask is slipping ... and things ... people ... who never mattered before, are suddenly starting to matter.


It scares the hell out of me."  ~ Dexter