Friday, May 14, 2010

Confessions of a commitment-phobe

SLR: You're the reason why good guys turn bad.

Shopgirl: Uh, say wha, say what?

SLR: Girls like you make good guys turn bad.

Shopgirl: I hardly believe that. You exaggerate.

SLR: Think about it. Every guy has his breaking point. He can only take so much of "you're so sweet and thoughtful, but..." and then bam! Friend status. Girls like you always want the bad guy and always shaft the good guy. You don't even give the good guy the time of day. That's when good guys decide to screw it all and forget about being so nice.

Shopgirl: You're generalizing. That's only partially true. And even if it were, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for such sheisty behavior on my part. I'm allergic to commitment.

SLR: That's bull and you know it.

Shopgirl: Sincerely, honestly true. I may have gravitated towards "bad" boys in the past because they kept me from getting bored. Nowadays, I tend to avoid the "good" guys because I'm not ready for commitment or anything that might resemble one. Trust me, I know what a good guy looks like--I just can't get caught up in something I'm not ready for.

SLR: Uh, on your choice of men--you sure about that? Sometimes I question your filter.

Shopgirl: First of all, I'm offended by that. Second of all, yes. I did date an amazing guy for years, remember?

SLR: Then why the lack in selectivity?

Shopgirl: Dating a good guy with good intentions on both ends would mean the possibility of building the foundation for something more.

SLR: And tell me again why that's a bad thing?


It's been about nine months since my ex and I called off our six-year, on-and-off (mostly on, by far) relationship for good. I took a few months to rebound, went into a reclusive dormancy, then emerged from my cave hole, ready to embrace dating etiquette with a fresh perspective. Spring was upon me, flowers abloom and birds in harmonious song.

Nevertheless, sensing even a slight whiff of commitment sends me running in zigzags. And while I can't speak for all commitment-phobes out there, I can offer a bit of enlightenment on why the sweet scent of seriousness turns putrid:

1. Sometimes, you just want to have fun. "Fun," of course, is up for interpretation. This kind of fun is not easily had when attached, 'nuff said.

2. Life constraints make an already hectic life even more difficult. Life constraints could be any of the following--life-consuming work, life-consuming school, an anorexic bank account, or all of the above for a home run in life instability.

 3. Commitment demands more emotional output from an already waning puddle. This has got to be the number one reason why commitment-phobia prevails, even after meeting the "right" significant other at the "right" time (the concept of "right," of course, is relative). Shall we break it down, in lieu of its complexity? (As if you had a choice!)
3a. Emotional immaturity. Lacks in ability to introspect, empathize, and sympathize are all examples of emotional pathology. 
3b. Emotional insecurity. This results from an inability to realize self-worth and may or may not be linked to emotional immaturity. For whatever reason, a commitment-phobe may not feel deserving of a healthy relationship with a fully competent partner.
3c. Self-destructive tendencies. This is a direct result from having emotional insecurity. Let me elaborate: Commitment-phobes, like other human beings, do appreciate the care and company of a genuine partner. However, the disconnect lies in the emotional insecurity. As the saying goes, "If it's too good to be true, it probably is." Such is the mantra of the self-destructive commitment-phobe. Rather than having a good thing taken away, willingly push it away.
Commitment is a scary thing. In fact, it's terrifying. It demands change and compromise, often times in ways that we may not be equipped to handle. Though the right person can withdraw the fear out of commitment, commitment-phobes have been known to remain in stagnant relationships for the sake of companionship.

That said, if you're currently "attached" to a commitment-phobe, I can't speak for why he or she has decided to linger so long. That's a whole 'nother conversation.

Speaking the honest truth on a more serious post,
Shopgirl.



Saturday, May 8, 2010

I would make a great assassin!

A few days back, Yogini directed me to take a Myers Briggs personality test on OkCupid. If you’re not familiar with the test, what it does is categorize you into one of four temperaments (Guardian, Idealist, Artisan, Rational) and then one of sixteen personality types (enfpenfjentpentj | estjesfj | estpesfpinfpinfjintpintj | istjisfjistpisfp). Your personality type, summed up one of the sixteen combinations listed, is a combination of personality quirks like Introverted vs. Extroverted, Sensing vs. iNtuitive, Feeling vs. Thinking, and Perceptive vs. Judging. If my half-assed explanation was not enough and you’re offended by half-assed effort, feel free to peruse the Keirsey Temperament Sorter to get a better breakdown of the temperaments and personality types.

I took the test a total of three times from three different occasions on three different websites, out of speculation for their accuracies. Remember, I’m a scientist and thus especially appreciate experiments when data are reproducible.

I don’t remember where I took the first test or what I even scored, but here’s a sum of my most recent personality quirks:


Keirsey.com would say that as an ENTP, I am a Rational Inventor. Personally, I think that me being pegged as an ENTP is quite accurate. I’m known to be unconventional in many respects and also very supportive of marijuana legalization. The best part about being an ENTP though, is that I would probably make a good dictator, or perhaps an international spy or assassin. If that doesn’t work out, I suppose I can become an ambassador if I’ve not yet been placed under international sanctions by then.

I think I’d much rather be an ENTP than an INTP, the personality type I tested under the second time around. Here’s a summary of the INTP personality, in a nutshell:





As an INTP, I’ve been dubbed a Rational Architect, rather than the ENTP Rational Inventor. Inconsistency is the scientist’s nemesis! I almost wanted to throw my computer against the wall, but my unemotional ENTP/INTP logical nature reminded me that I just finished paying off my MacBook. So ixnay on the throwing of the computer.

I must examine these quirks more closely for thorough comparison. One consistency between ENTPs and INTPs is that both support marijuana legalization. Can’t argue with that. Both personality types still tell me that I am unconventional in thought and actions, though as an INTP I have reclusive loner tendencies and as an ENTP I can be quite entertaining. Quite a conundrum, I am!

Drawbacks of being an INTP—I do resent that I’m regarded as one who does not like happy people. That’s not true—I love happy people. It’s just that extremely happy people tend to be as happy as they are because they are ignorant and haven’t yet developed a ripe sense of cynicism. Again, let me reiterate. I absolutely adore happy people!

As a whole, I’m not sure what to make of these inconsistencies. Am I introverted or extroverted? Attention-seeking or evasive? Well, either way I would still make an excellent assassin. Or maybe I’ll consider becoming a mortician? Can I choose to be one personality type over the other? I think the advent of these test results calls for a career change!

Currently polishing my sniper rifle,
Shopgirl.



Sunday, May 2, 2010

Insecurity Walls and Cold Wars

Yogini: You should say something to him.
Shopgirl: Impossible. Saying something would totally undermine my ego.

Yogini: It shouldn't be a power struggle.

Shopgirl: You're right. It shouldn't have to be a power struggle but there always seems to be one anyway.


I glanced at my phone to check for incoming messages. None. I wasn't sure what kind of response I was expecting or if my expectation was in itself a lack of any response altogether. I slid my phone aside and decided it was best to leave and let be. I turned my attention to the panda assembling the drum set on stage:

Drummer for Sanguindrake at Hotel Cafe. Yes, folks. That is indeed a panda.

It's easy to find yourself on the defensive edge of a personal Cold War. Anticipating the next move, having one-up on the opponent, yet never really accomplishing anything? Yeah, that's a cold war. I get caught up in all these stupid little games, which more or less might just be in my head, though my deluded sense of hubris would certainly argue otherwise.

It's the game of cat and mouse that men and women play. Take cat-string theory, for instance. A few years back, a guy friend of mine pointed me over to The Game by Neil Strauss, a geek to chic story of a man's journey to becoming a world-renown pick-up artist, AKA a world-class man-whore. In the novel, Strauss describes cat-string theory:
Listen. Have you ever seen a cat play with a string? Well, when the string is dangling above its head, just out of reach, the cat goes crazy trying to get it. It leaps in the air, dances around, and chases it all over the room. But as soon as you let go of the string and it drops right between the cat's paws, it just looks at the string for a second and then walks away. It's bored. It doesn't want it anymore.
I reconsidered my end of the cat-string theory. Was I the feverish feline on alert for the bait?


Yogini: If you really are friends, there shouldn't be a power struggle.

Shopgirl: I like to think that we are, that we've both moved on from our fling and are perfectly capable of having a platonic relationship, but all this ambiguity makes me feel like he's breaking up with me.

Yogini: That's silly. People don't break up with friends.

Shopgirl: Precisely. Which is why I feel even stupider about this whole thing.

Yogini: Maybe he's not over it yet. Maybe you're not over it.

Shopgirl: Me? Not over it? Yogini, you know me, I'm way too noncommittal in way too many ways to ever consider something remotely meaningful. And you know that I'm moving.

Yogini: Then why do you care so much? You have plenty of friends--why him?

Shopgirl: I don't know. For some reason, I'm drawn to him. He's intense in so many ways that I wouldn't ever anticipate from anyone, but the intensity resonates with me on levels that most people never understand. It's like he sees me for who I am, seeing through the walls I put up to purposely shut people out.

Yogini: Walls, huh? Even me?

Shopgirl: Well of course not. You know what I mean!

Yogini: Ok, just checking. Carry on.

Shopgirl: So I feel like we're on a similar brain wave, which was jolting because I felt like he could see into my insecurities. He read me like a book and asked me to read him in return, but I refused because I completely freaked out.

Yogini: So what do you think about it now?

Shopgirl: In retrospect, him reading into my insecurities is almost comforting. It's as if I don't have to put up any fronts. He knows who I am without me having to explain. That's hard to find in anyone, dating potential or friend.

Yogini: Why don't you tell him that?

Shopgirl: Are you nuts? He'll think I'm psycho.

Yogini: What've you got to lose? And besides, you're supposed to be friends right? You'd be completely honest with me, why not with him?


I reach for my iPhone and swish through the pages. Shall I send my neurotic thoughts via text or Facebook message? I opt for the Facebook message since it was going to be a long one.

A softer, yet bolder me,
Shopgirl.