Hey, if they can rehash old TV series into $11 a seat movies, then I can get away with rehashing some posts from old blog spots.
I came across a treasure trove of old blog posts when I inadvertently logged onto MySpace for the first time in, gosh, maybe six years. Turns out, it’s a music site now, but apparently it kept the old blogs (in html formatting – ugh). I did a bunch of them back then and, well, they’ll come in handy when I don’t feel the “muse” for anything new.
So, in no particular order and without further ado, let’s take a “Wayback Machine” visit to an old blog…
After scrolling back through previous posts to make sure I don’t repeat myself, I noticed an alarming trend – most of the posts present either a neutral or flattering depiction of me. Far be it for me to over-emphasize my positive traits in lieu of a fair and balanced presentation of my limitations as well. In the spirit of equal air time, I present to you some of my more famous character flaws. And you thought I was only a nice guy…
One of the benefits from having a large vocabulary and good puzzle solving skills is that I’m always quick with a reply or a witty rejoinder. One of the drawbacks of those skills is that I’m ALWAYS quick with a reply or witty rejoinder. Since many of those can be overly subtle or barbed, it can get tiresome to those around me. There is little that is less appealing than a person who is the only one laughing at his own joke.
Rarely are my jousts of sarcasm directed with maliciousness, but that hardly mitigates the vast volume of commentary spewing forth with regularity. Some of the attempts are humorous, to be sure, but sarcasm is a tool best used sparingly. I’m pretty sure I take my special talents and turn them more into burdens. I’ve attempted to solve for that, but the effect is so dramatic that I usually get people concerned that I’m not well. In an ironic twist, they then attempt to “bait me” back to my “normal” acerbic self, thus creating a self-fulfilling doom!
Ah, the travails of being superbly witty.
Hold the Phone!
Another moan-inducing hole in my make-up is my aversion to phones in general and making phone calls in particular. Amazing, for those who know me, considering how much I like to talk, but I just don’t like to call people on the phone.
This characteristic is most noticeable (and noted) among my family. Depending on the person, I will get anything ranging from “Hello Stranger” to “Oh, so you remember me?” to “Oh my gosh, I may faint”. Hmm, seems like I may have some genetic support for the previous flaw we talked about.
I have found most phone conversations to be fairly repetitive and (in my opinion) uninteresting. This is not the fault of the person I am (should be?) calling, rather it reflects that I live a fairly uninteresting life. My conversations are basically: “Hi” “Hi” “How are you?” “Fine, how are you doing?” “I’m/We’re OK. What’s going on?” “Nothing much” “Call me/us more” “Possibly”.
Riveting stuff, eh? What can I say? Nothing much goes on in my life week to week. Normally. I don’t personally have an issue with that, being fairly laid back about home life, but it doesn’t make for exciting phone conversation. So, most of the time, people have to call me rather than me calling them. It works out pretty well for me, since it usually means they have something they want to say and I can just listen (and speak when requested). Otherwise, for me, silence is golden.
Now I’m really confused
Last one for this post, supposedly a big one, although I don’t see it from my end. According to others (so far, only females, but maybe men just don’t talk – or care – about these things) I send out “mixed signals”.
I had to ask for a clarification of what that meant, since I did not have a clue that I was even sending out signals, much less mixing them up. I still don’t have a clear answer, but from what I gather it’s related to how others (women) can’t figure me out. Due to this “mixed signal” thing. Of course, it must be my fault that I’m doing this thing without knowing as opposed to, oh, let’s say, the general inability for men or women to ever figure out the opposite sex.
Fine. My shoulders are broad enough, lay it on. Well, actually, my shoulders aren’t really that broad, but that’s a physical flaw, not personality, so we don’t need to go there at this time. The point is, I’m willing to accept the criticism and attempt to figure it out (remember? puzzle lover).
Here’s my theory. I’m a left-handed Gemini. Thanks for reading.
Alright, fine, I’ll expound on it…but don’t say I didn’t give you the opportunity to leave early!
My thinking is this: I love reading, writing, drawing and dreaming. All creative bents. So I majored and graduated in Advertising in my first college stint. I also like puzzles, logical planning, numbers and a general sense of order to the universe. Therefore my second college stint was to get a degree in Accounting. Thus, you have a well-trained left and right-brained individual (is that ambi-brained?) inhabiting the same body.
Now that might be a good person to sit deep in a cave, scraped out in a wintry, windswept mountain somewhere in a place where they only get to in 3 hour movies to receive stray visitors looking for enlightenment, but I live in well populated, easy to get to South Florida. Besides, I hate the cold.
So, presuming I actually DO send out “mixed signals” (and remember, this is me accepting the responsibility without truly recognizing the fault), I propose that this is because I am truly a bifurcated person who can hardly separate the disparate pieces of his own driving energies let alone manage to collate and homogenize the beaming of “signals” to people I come into contact with. Or women that I confuse, whichever is most relevant.
I’m adding this to the fault list, but I’ll be darned if I know what to do about it. Perhaps someone could send me a clear signal on what they are looking for from me and I’ll do my best to oblige.
On the other hand, maybe I won’t.