1. I went out with a bunch of ladies last night to The Cheesecake Factory. I knew a handful of them, didn’t know another handful of them, had a great time with all of them. I’m telling you I was a joking extrovert last night. For almost three whole hours. It was a lot of fun.
2. I will pay for my attempted extroversion today. But I’m okay with that.
3. In college I made myself score high on the outgoing scale for two years. I *thought* I was an extrovert. I acted like an extrovert. I didn’t own my true personality until my junior year. What a relief. For the next 15 years I’ve scored as an ISTJ on the Myers-Briggs scale. Three days ago, Craig and I were flipping through a book on the Myers-Briggs temperaments. As I read over the ISTJ again I had an epiphany: the description didn’t totally fit me. We read over the profile of the ISFJ and guess what? My personality has changed again. Or maybe that’s the way it’s always been but I’ve been in denial. Folks, I’m an ISFJ. Wow.
5. In other news, I have a pet peeve of the blogosphere: I can’t stand being referred to as “internets” on anyone’s blog. I’m not an internet; I’m a person. A person’s a person no matter how small. Incidentally, I’m not thinking of anyone in particular as I write this, but I feel the need to come clean. If someone I regularly read and know in real life does this, I forgive, but if I’m checking out a blog for the first time and come across this misuse of the English language, I’m so out of there. There. It’s out. What are your blogging pet peeves? Please don’t say, “Misuse of the comma.” We’ve established already that I have issues in that department. That’s why I have an editor.
6. Just found this Trader Joe’s song from Corrin’s twitter feed. Hilarious.
7. I brought home one-sixth of a butchered cow today. This is our second time to participate in a group cow purchase. The poor guy sure is tasty; he’s one of those all grass-fed, hormone-free varieties. Last time we had one, someone accidentally left the freezer door ajar and we lost a fair amount of the meat. I think I may have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. The loss of all that meat made me cry. I now check the freezer door seal every time I walk down to the basement.
7b. I had to google “door seal” because the spelling didn’t look right when I typed it there. Apparently it is, though.
7c. When I have to google simple words like “seal” for spelling it means I’m tired. Gotta go now.