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Haven’t had a chance to write up a dream diary entry in a while. My dreams have been boring or have faded away. This one stuck with me though, because it was such a strange mix of people. As usual, I have my most interesting dreams when I’m running late, though fortunately I was not actually late for work this time, just for my morning routine.
It started out looking and feeling like an Achievement Hunter Minecraft Lets Play, (I’ve been watching a lot of those lately). The guys were trying to become creepers…somehow? It involved TNT, anyway. There was a lot of screaming and cursing and hilarity, as there often is. I remember everyone looked like an actual creeper, and they had to stay away from each other as well as actual creepers, because any explosion would also cause their own TNT to detonate and they would lose. I think the gist was that they were trying to make as much TNT for themselves as possible so that they would make the biggest explosion when they blew up. The biggest explosion would show who was the best creeper, of course.
Anyway, the POV person (I think it was probably Gavin? Or maybe Ryan?) climbed up on top of a pedestal, which I think was actually the porch of Jack’s house. Then there was another close call where someone almost caused both of them to explode, but they distracted themselves and…didn’t. Then suddenly I was the POV player, and the person who almost blew me up was…I think a guy from one of my writing programs? I don’t know the guy personally, so in the dream he acted kinda like whats-his-name from Big Bang Theory. Sheldon? Anyway, he was rambling about how he wouldn’t accidentally blow us up because he was a studied master of social interaction.
I responded that I was obviously better at social interaction, as well as being a better creeper (because that was the point, remember?) He held up a globe for some reason to indicate that he was better at social interaction. I think it was around this point that I realized I was actually Ross from Friends, because as proof of my own superior social interaction skills, I wrote “FRIENDS” across the top of his globe.
Anyway the time came to detonate and we did, but for some reason I didn’t get a Game Over screen. Instead I was at the bottom of a pit, staring up at the remains of the pedestal (which was Jack’s porch, remember?) The graphics no longer looked like Minecraft; instead it was as if I was in a super-realistic hole in the ground. [Live action] Jack then came out onto what was left of the porch, stared down at me, and yelled “What are you doing in my underground?”
I was understandably confused by this, and he yelled it again. “What are you doing in my underground!?” Then he stormed back inside. I started trying to climb back up so I could explain to Jack what had happened (though really, he was in the Lets Play so he should have known).
As I made my way back up toward ground level, I came across a collapsed and apparently badly injured Neil Gaiman, so of course I helped him up. As I carried him back to the surface, he explained to me that he was an author, and he held up a book to show me. I don’t remember what it was called (as a Neil Gaiman fan irl, I’m positive it wasn’t a book he has actually written). He was walking better, so I took the book to check it out. (I’m pretty sure I was no longer Ross or myself at this point; in fact, I think I was Kirbopher).
The book was about a young girl who was trying to become invisible. Within the story, she had read a book called “How To Become Invisible”, which itself opened with the following quote:
If you want to steal all someone’s pennies, first learn to take their window trolleys.
The girl in the story didn’t know what that meant, and consequently neither did I (or Kirb? My identity tends to be really fluid in dreams). Neil Gaiman refused to explain what it meant, telling me that I should read the book. He didn’t offer to sell it to me though, and wouldn’t tell me when it would be available for sale. I resumed trying to carry him out of the pit and up to Jack’s house. Then I woke up.
I have no idea what any of it “means”. I don’t particularly ascribe to dream interpretation. I take what inspiration I can on my own and am content to leave it at that. (I am not claiming that dreams don’t have subconscious meanings, because they pretty obviously do. I just have no patience for such interpretation when I could just enjoy the story.) Anyway, that last segment seems pretty rad, so I’m probably going to write a story about that. Hopefully it’s not something Neil Gaiman has written, because I don’t think I could compete with that.
I’m aware that the strikethrough from the Myers-Briggs post is screwing up the sidebar, but I don’t know how to prevent it right now (and frankly, I have so few followers that it’s kinda low on my list of priorities).
I know I’m a little behind as far as posting, but I’ve been writing on lots of other projects that I can’t share. I’ll try to have something new up here in the next few days.
See you on the other side.
This is probably going to be a shorter-than-usual Friday-post, because while I think these concepts are important to understand, there also isn’t much actual explaining for me to do, since the concepts tend to speak for themselves. (Nope.avi)
These are two contrasting (or complementing) psychological “tests”, to help indicate one’s personality and natural temperament:
Myers-Briggs’ Type Indicators are, as I explained last week, heavily influenced by the work of Carl Jung, specifically following his four “principal” psychological functions. It is a psychometric questionnaire designed to measure psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions (thanks Wikipedia). Myers-Briggs focuses on perception, and recognizes sixteen “types”.
Keirsey’s Temperament Sorter is instead based on ancient Greek philosophy. Now, obviously, we know now what was wrong physiologically with Hippocrates’ study of humours, but the psychological side, along with Plato’s four characters, appears to have a basis in observation. (That is, everyone is sometimes cheerful, but it has nothing to do with the relative concentration of blood in their body; everyone is sometimes enthusiastic, but it is unrelated to their yellow bile; etc.) Keirsey focuses on observable behavior, and recognizes sixteen “role variants”.
The two are closely associated, but have some significant distinctions.
My girlfriend keeps accidentally calling the writer of Sherlock “Mark Katniss” and I don’t know what to do with my life.
I don’t care if you don’t use your real name on tumblr, but please at least indicate who you are somehow.
People seem to confuse these terms a lot, so I’d like to offer some clarity.
Disclaimer: I am not a therapist, not a psychologist, and have only minimal formal psychological training. Reading this post is not an alternative for psychological treatment.
In general, people tend to use the term “introvert” as shorthand for someone who is shy, or socially awkward, or is otherwise not a “people person”. This is…I won’t say it’s inaccurate, but it is imprecise. Such characteristics may indicate an introvert, but they are not ironclad proof.
Likewise, the term “extravert” is used to indicate someone that is not shy or awkward, someone who is at home in a group or even a crowd, or who is a “people person”. Again, these may indicate an extravert, but you can’t be certain because of them.
I have Sleep Apnea/Apnoea. (At least, I’m pretty damn sure I do. I haven’t been to see a specialist yet.)
I have always snored, and my father has fairly severe apnea (he sleeps with an oxygen machine). Recently, my girlfriend has woken me up a few times in concern that my snores sounded more like me desperately gasping for breath, and a few other times I have woken up myself still terribly groggy and with an incredibly sore throat (actually specifically the soft palate area, indicated by the black arrow here:)
Tumblr seems to be a cesspool for cishate.
(Why, yes, I would like to clarify that position.)
Believe it or not, I have been involved with a number of girls/women (I expect I’ll fluctuate between the terms going forward; no offense is meant by either) over the years. I don’t know whether any of them will care or even know that I’m writing about them, but I suppose for the sake of confidentiality I’ll use some initials.
I imagine people who know me well will be able to decipher some of these people, but I don’t think it’s that big a deal. Besides, even my closest confidants don’t know all these stories.
I am overweight. Plain and simple.
It’s no secret. I’m not in denial. I’m not even particularly “fat” per se—I’m just chubby.
It’s been happening incrementally over the last five years or so. I check the growth sometimes, for a while, but eventually it starts again. It’s gotten to the point that I can’t comfortably fit into most of my clothes. Aside from one pair of slacks that I wear to work, the only things I have to cover my legs are some bleach-stained, stretched-out gym shorts with elastic waistbands. I don’t have anything else because none of the other pants I own fit me anymore.
I have the same issue with shirts—I have a lot of screen tees that I’ve accumulated since high school, and I can’t wear most of them because they’re either Mediums that don’t cover my stomach, or Larges that are somewhat “fitted”, and are too snug under the arms. (Admittedly I’m a fairly stocky guy, but I’m not that broad across the shoulder.)
I need to do two things to lose weight: eat healthier and exercise. Healthier food is more expensive, unfortunately, which is an issue…but with some careful budgeting, I think it can be overcome. That leaves exercise. Unfortunately, this leads to something of a Catch-22 that I’m sure many overweight people understand: