Brief Humor & Check-Ins, Introversion/INTJ

Author: Exercise for Happy Introverts 🚲🍁☺️ (Bike/iFit/Humor)

I’ve found I like doing most activities either alone or with my spouse, the Saint.* Being around people tends to drain my batteries quickly, with some exceptions. I’ve found many people like to peck at introverts and want to draw them out of their “shells” like some over eager mother robin. They ask intruding questions and wish to know everything about you within ten minutes of meeting. (This is why dungeons were created: to throw people like this into them.) Then they flit onto the next person, never to see you again until next year’s holiday function to re-live the level of Hell all over again. Hooray.

We introverts needs to take care of ourselves against the legions of rude, energy vampires that flit along us. I’ve found an exercise I really enjoy and wanted to share it with fellow birds of the flock. So get your groove together and let’s crack on!

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Blogmas 2018

2018 Peregrine Arc Blogmas: Starts Tomorrow! (Indie Author | Humor)

Starting tomorrow, join us at Peregrine Arc to kick off our 2018 Blogmas Premiere! Mr. Reginald Swinebottom will be hosting our Blogmas this year. Among his productions, he’ll present “The 12 Days of Writing” in song along with a presentation of “How to Write a Book.” There will be funny lists, tear jerking jokes, and heaps of writer chaos sprinkled with fun, mirth and laughter.

It’s sure to be a stellar treat, so grab your candy canes, bunny slippers and let’s meet! Back here, starting Saturday morning. Stay warm, fellow Arcians! Caw!

Ponderings

Demons, Death & Double Standards: “What a Slut…”

I ask your pardon for including the word “slut” in the title. I dislike the connotations and one sided power the word carries. I imagine the word as a broken woman, dragging her dirtied feet through this patriarchal world, a shamed prostitute surrounded by self-righteous rock throwers. A man I knew died recently and, as I learned, wasn’t married to whom I (and everyone else) assumed was his spouse. The news startled me, but I knew it wasn’t my business. I instead chose to help as I was able with the memorial arrangements. I overhead the following conversation happen the day of the funeral:

“And what was with “their companion” written in the obituary…? What, they weren’t married? …What a slut…”

Ecstatic giggling followed the speaker’s judgement. I couldn’t see the group listening, but could hear parts of the conversation. I imagined the speaker’s tongue like a snake’s, split and elegant, licking the air in glee as she laughed. The group murmured some type of consensual agreement I couldn’t quite decipher. The conversation moved onto other matters, sliding easily to other interests.

I sat in my chair, shocked, my brain numbly processing what I heard. I began wondering if I was honestly in the presence of a demon.

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Ponderings

Baby Showers: An INTJ Female Writer’s Perspective

I hate baby showers. More specifically, I detest being around large groups of women. They smack their lips, gossip, compliment each other on their blouses, their charm bracelets and delicately ask about family affairs while devouring every dripping detail. Surgery stories are swapped, pill brands and doctor’s advice exchanged and everyone secretly ranks themselves against each other.Β  The news gathered up is stored away in their overstuffed purses giving them neck aches and back problems, stalwart, steadfast symbols of their socioeconomic status and success. In the car, they ask their sisters and nieces what they thought of the awful food, the cute decorations and just what the hostess was thinking. I do not exaggerate. Women are subtly, and artfully, vicious. Cue harpies, banshees and the like.

Parties are grand acts and I am the jester, acting the innocent fool and observing it all quietly, hitting up the buffet line for thirds. No wonder Jesus made more wine at the wedding. Maybe it helped him get through it, too.

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Writing: I've Got Gadgets and Gizmos a Plenty...

Refilling the Tank: Top it off, Johnny!

As an introvert and a writer, I need rest and creative refueling like I require water. Rest for introverts (at least for me) includes digging a hole in my backyard like the Russian saints of yore and camping out with some PB & J sandwiches and Gatorade. Have books, food and video games, will travel (or hunker down in this case). My formula: for every one hour of human interaction, one year of solitude will do. As you can imagine, I’m in the red but hopeful.

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