. Spinning .

In a minute I’ll post about a dream I had last night that together with these two happenings below provide the daily insight, for that is what each day brings: a clue to solve the puzzle presented us by life.

In the midst of trying to fit in with the rest of the inhabitants of this world I am discovering some things that could be good or could be not so good and need to change and change is what I’m seeking.  In an e-mail, a friend providing a rush letter of recommendation mentioned this:  With you, there is so much that could be said and so many identities that could be foregrounded. Now I understand the principle, to gear the letter to the particular job, and this I’ve done often enough myself in a cover letter. But something else is here: the clue.

Yes, that’s me, Jack of all Trades, Master of None.  Now this could be nice, I suppose, in that I’ve many interests, worn many hats–and at my age that’s not too unusual except that one should fit and become a favorite.  But I’m still looking for the purple cloche, the gay red fedora with a pheasant feather, the pillbox, sombrero, babushka, Alaskan windwarmer with fuzzy earflaps, whatever, as these all pile up on the closet shelf.  I’m scattered and each small piece of me, a pound or two at most is all to spare, never gets to know one thing really well.  Focus is not a problem for me, and yet focus is indeed the problem by itself. What is it that I’m best at doing?  What gift given to me can I give back to this world besides shelves and shelves of wine and jelly?

I think I may have done this quiz and posted on it before, but if so, then worse, nothing’s changed:

You’re The Dictionary!
by Merriam-Webster
You’re one of those know-it-all types, with an amazing amount of knowledge at your command. People really enjoy spending time with you in very short spurts, but hanging out with you for a long time tends to bore them. When folks really need an authority to refer to, however, you’re the one they seek. You’re an exceptional speller and very well organized.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

It’s been a long, long time since I wrote in this category, but today’s interview has me thinking more about our perception of self versus what we project.

I’ve never been afraid of interviews before–and I admit it’s been a while since I’ve been on any type of interview, much less one for employment–though I’ve never managed to squelch my fear of testing, regardless of five years of college classes.  But I wondered why I was so uncomfortable in this one, and it leads me back to some tendencies coupled with, or even exacerbated by years of experience.

The tendency is that I am not comfortable talking about myself or my accomplishments–oddly enough, this is in conflict with my need for validation.  Oh I can talk myself up among friends or within a like-minded group, but in attempting to impress a group of superiors, I’m lost.  The added factor that made it worse is that yes, I have plenty of experience behind me in all the areas required by this position. 

So why the discomfort?  Because it sounded like bragging.  Like well, hell, of course I can do this, I’ve been a business owner, an executive secretary, etc. etc.  I was turned off by what was coming out of my mouth.  I mean, in a job interview, you’re supposed to point out your experience and accomplishments.  I remember starting out into the business world and I remember the nervousness about going for a job for which I wasn’t fully sure I was qualified.  This is almost worse.  I sounded downright pompous.  Its not an easy transition to make; self-assured in my own world and trying to be accepted by those in another.

And then you go and flub up the typing and filing tests.

Yes, tagged (I’m it!) by the lovely Anne at Ample Sanity, to reveal Five Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me:

• I’ve always been rather shy, quiet, lacking self-confidence.  However, that changed with age and I’ve become a rather bossy, opinionated and vocal advocate for my beliefs and passions.  Unfortunately, I suppose I should consider that the original lack of self-confidence had a seed of reason behind it.
• I’m a jack of all trades, master of none.  I can draw a little, write a little, do electrical work, plumbing, carpentry and do some housewifely things as well.  Nothing particularly outstanding; neither be they inadequate.
• Love to cook, hate to bake.  My specialities are stuffed shrimp, prime rib, duck, and piorogi.  In deserts, I tend toward elaborate, worthwhile, time-consuming delicacies such as Italian Cream Cake (you know, triple layers with almonds, cherries, rum puddings, etc.), and crepes with all kinds of fruit and cream fillings.
• While I always have had one or two very, very close girlfriends, I’ve had many very strong and deep friendship relationships with men.  Unfortunately, most men didn’t understand that level and insisted it needed to become sexual.  That always fucked things up.
• I’ve decided to go with the belief in reincarnation.  It ties in nicely with my Catholic upbringing if you see much of it as metaphor and symbolism.  It also offers a terrific reason to get through this round and hope for the next.

Couldn’t resist taking it, though I’ve tried to stay away from these "You are the…" quizzes.  But sometimes they just seem to catch things that are going on with me that even friends may miss.  On this one, I hesitated after answering "Friends and Family" as the most important thing to me.  I changed my answer to the more realistic "Truth."  After all, it was Truth, you see, that lost my family to me.

You are The Tower

Ambition, fighting, war, courage. Destruction, danger, fall, ruin.

The Tower represents war, destruction, but also spiritual renewal. Plans are disrupted. Your views and ideas will change as a result.

The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." You have been shaken up; blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What’s most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Thanks to Furious Spinner for the sobering experience.

You Are 56% Cynical

Yes, you are cynical, but more than anything, you’re a realist. You see what’s screwed up in the world, but you also take time to remember what’s right.

How Cynical Are You?
http://www.blogthings.com/howcynicalareyouquiz/

There once was a woman who underneath her clothes was always naked.  From when she was a little girl, she grew into and out of pants and skirts and shirts and dresses that never really fit.  To all she did appear quite proper and composed, though only she truly knew her secret.  She tried on different people as she changed and sometimes turned to diets, grapefruit or sometimes chocolates, to make them fit…

Some were too tight and at the end of every day her head would ache from the slow and steady restricting bands of pressure.  Some were too big and loose and she would float around inside without a purpose, unnoticed, dreamlike as if a bubble in a level never held straight out.

You are Luke Skywalker

 

Before a grand wrap-up on Faulkner, this:  I’ve come to discover a sad little truth about my reading habits, methods of learning, my own self.

In a word:  Resistant

McCarthy?  What’s with this guy?  Marquez?  Oh come on.  Faulkner?  So what’s the big deal?  And then, one by one, my defenses break down against the power of brilliance.  Then, and only then, am I in love.

It is a lifestyle, I’m afraid.  Though not from Iowa, I need be shown proof before I’d side with the consensus of opinion.  While on parade I hook a left onto a side street, just to see what’s down there, losing sight of the crowd that confidently continues down Main Street.  Losing time but learning all the little shops that parallel the traffic flow.  But yes, I am behind not with the crowd.

You’re not alone.  Words of comfort and they work; but of their challenging effect that makes whatever worried not worth the effort for being common.

Years ago I walked out from a stop-smoking session proudly victorious; not over the habit, but over the hypnosis as I pulled my tossed pack of smokes back out from the basket in the back of the room.  No one would change my mind and the risk of letting down my guard was proof they couldn’t enter it.

Kicking and screaming.  Not quite the way of the quiet person, and yet the noise, the flurry of feet and fists are silently but surely taking place within my brain.  Tenacity born of principle; strength born of diminutive stature; uniqueness born of creativity; stubbornness born of…what?

The fracas of the conflict is very rarely seen except by me, alone in the front row of theater.  Rarely taints, barely faints the outward acquiescence.  Even as I age I do reverse the norm and will not happily mellow, but rage against injustice, and every rule the more.  And in the end, is the lesson better accepted?  With much more, perhaps unnecessary difficulty, yes. 

Maybe this has been this weblog’s purpose, finally served.

From Cowtown Pattie, I couldn’t resist taking this one:  What Romantic Poet are You?

You are William Blake! Wow. I’m impressed. Not
only are you a self-made artist and poet, but
you’ve suddenly become a very trendy guy to
like. It’s not that we doubt that you have all
your marbles, it’s just that we’re not quite
sure what you did with them to come up with
those terrifying theological visions. The
people of your time were nowhere near as
forgiving as that, and all your neighbors
thought you were a grade-A nut job. But we
love you, so rest happy.

Which Major Romantic Poet Would You Be (if You Were a Major Romantic Poet)?
brought to you by Quizilla

It just dawned on me, and confirms what I’ve come to diagnosis myself as:  Spatially Impaired and Directionally Dysfunctional.  And, I’ve noticed this because of some writing quirks (flaws, really) that I hold true to.  (besides dangling participles)

I have no sense of time; think I can make the loop of errands in four towns and eight stops in half an hour.  This drives my husband insane.  (only one of my methods)

I have no sense of space; consider something a mile away to be just around the corner and vice versa.  I have lived in Burlington for fifteen years, yet do not remember which road that cuts off my own ends up where on Route 4.

And now this:  I have a problem with tenses in both writing and reading (it was much worse in Spanish!).  For all my decent grammatical ability, I mix tenses constantly and inconsistently.

My husband calls it "Susan-time."  I prefer to think that I drift as a free spirit through time and space, transcending the barriers that would halt smarter souls. 

Well, I am shocked to find (but then again, it does relate to my decision to stop blogging for a while):

You May Be a Bit Borderline …

Your mood swings make a roller coaster look tame! When you’re up, you’re a little bit crazy… And when you’re down, your whole world is crashing Scary thing is, these moods can change by the minute!

I have stayed away from this category for a while–after all, why get into it in front of the world–sort of like a weblogging Maury Povich?  If you can’t see my flaws whether in person or in a weblog, why point ‘em out to you?

But, that said, there is one thing I’d like to change about me that I’ve been aware of all my life and it is the very stubbornness I have that makes me cling to this stubborn nature.  It’s been my nemesis and it’s even more obvious this past week and will continue into the weekend.  What, you ask, could possibly be wrong with me?  Well among a host of little indiosyncracies, this one’s a giant pain in the butt.  It’s my "f… it, I’ll do it myself" attitude.  It’s caused me loads of grief, and this weekend it’s going to either teach me to drop it or it shall doeth me in.

If nothing else, I’d like to put it on my list of "nots" when personality-picking comes around in my next life.  In the meantime, with typical Catholic guilt, I’ll accept the resulting work and stress as penance.

It’s coming to a point where I must indeed pull my head out and look around, even to find a new hole.

Strange how intelligently we can decipher the signs, know the solution, yet fly away if we can, or like the proverbial ostrich, hide from it.  I am a clinger to moods, comfort or discomfort.  Know I must move on, yet bide my time as it flies forward at warp speed. 

Life goes on, despite my best efforts to anchor it to port.  Need a virtual kick to cut the rope and sail away, lest I drown as the tide rises against me.

Thanks to J-Walk, I’ve been pegged.  My job skills according to this little test:

Your strongest career skill is:  Pragmatic–focusing on facts and specifics.

Your weakest career skill is:  Societal–cooperating well with others.

For $9.95, they’ll throw in some suggestions to help you choose a career.   But why the hell should I listen to them?