Showing posts from December, 2009

Promises I Can't Keep

What's the saying...don't let your mouth make promises your ass can't keep? Something like that. Anyway, I can't post every day. Just can't do it. I hate the computer that much, it brings me down. I need a device that represents just my writing, and as soon as they invent it I shall have it.  It needs to be about the size of a Kindle, with web access and an actual keyboard--none of this touch keyboard shit (whose fingers are that small anyway). It would also be nice if I could use a pencil or some other dohickey to record random passages, that then translates my handwriting to type.

So then.

This is precisely why I will not make any New Year's resolutions this year. What are resolutions anyway than a promise to conform and be like everybody else? Lose more weight, quit smoking, keep in touch with family, do one nice thing a day. I think we'd all have better luck if we resolved to be raging, sarcastic alcoholics who feast on Micky D's three times a week…

Mamma always told me I was special

In doing more research about my "type"--that INFJ thingy, I found yet another resource offering in-depth insights into my personality traits. My significant other, an ENFP (defined as my "natural" mate), and I had a lot of fun dissecting the types, learning about each other, and translating the characteristics to our every day lives.

Until we came across this, in reference to yours truly:

"The INFJ's perfectionism and idealism, when combined with their empathy and genuine concern for others, can cause them to be true servants for people in some fashion. They may be great doctors or ministers or counselors. If they have also achieved a good amount of life wisdom, they can become powerful forces, such as Jesus (INFJ) and Mahatma Ghandi (INFJ)."

Jesus. They compared me to freakin' Jesus. Nevermind I somehow doubt Jesus, much less Ghandi, sat down and took a 63 question test to determine their type.

But enough about me. I mean, how can one's signif…

A Regular Dream Factory

My horoscope said I am one today. Today? How about every day.

I live in the realm of what if and how about...possibilities. Probably explains why the meals I like most come with several different dipping sauces. I would not call it living in a fantasy world--I am exceptionally grounded in the day-to-day realities, but I like to envision ideal scenarios of life and love, typically centric to myself. I am in fact, a dreamer and a doer.

Thoughts are things. Or, put another way, if it is to be it is up to me--the ten most important two letter words in the English language. I am enamored with the physics of the world--what has and what will be and why, and I have a particular interest in the "what will be". On several occasions in my 32 years I have had a sense of knowing, or have been so incredibly certain of an outcome that people think I'm full of crapola or, once again, living in a fantasy world.

For the record, I am not, and also for the record I have about an 81% accuracy …

Fur Babies

I am 100% obsessed with my dog, I fully admit it. So is Scott. We spoil him rotten, we spend hours just watching his cuteness and I can't imagine what life would be like if he hadn't picked us two years ago. Suckers.

Gizmo (that's him) is a French BullGOD, and has the most playful personality. He looks ruff and tuff, but wouldn't hurt a fly--and fly he might with his giant ears. He LOVES other dogs...I mean LOVES, of all shapes sizes and colors. I once knew a dog that didn't like white dogs, which is just weird.

This week, we're dog sitting for good friends of ours. Mango is a mix breed, docile, sweet and loving pup. She was rescued and used to be beaten, so she needs extra love and attention. She's a joy to have in the house and I quickly became attached.

While we've had play dates with our friends and family for Gizmo, we've never had a dog living with us for any extended period time.  Gizmo, we learned, has a fragile ego and does not want Mommy a…

Frugal is Fun!

Over the past year we've been saving a lot of money. There isn't really a purpose or goal to it, I suppose it's more so a condition of the economic climate resulting in a conservative approach to finances. We've always lived well below our means, security is important to both of us, but also never really wanted for anything either. It was hard to believe anything could really be cut, until we started assessing where we were spending our money.

We eliminated the cleaning people, doggie day care, Starbucks every morning, the gym and dinner out most nights. I can't tell you the last time I shopped for clothing other than absolute necessities. I have forced myself to burn every candle in my house to the nub and use every bottle of lotion I have before buying new of either (yes, these were compulsive obsessions of mine). I even started taking my shoes to the cobbler. Good as new!

Dinner out has been the biggest compromise, but it's also had the most impact. As a r…


Congratulations (to me) on the 100th post of Born Without a Y!

On average, that's .27 of a post per day or a 73% rant rate.

In celebration of this milestone I am making the commitment to posting once a day for the next 100 days. I figure by the end of 100 days I should have a damn good start to a book and maybe a little more direction in life. I haven't been as consistent lately due to a plethora of "work" (like flying across the country for one hour meetings), but it dawned on me that I should not let my obligations keep me from my passion. And if it is a passion, I can make time for it. Just like I do wine.

Looking forward to a little slice of sunshine each day by way of written refuge.


You'd have to be living under a rock to not know that I have been on a path of self-discovery the past few years. The fact that I have opted to share this journey with the general public through various blogs has been selfish in a sense as it for some reason has provided me an outlet to understanding and a release from the battles in my head.

And now I know why.

As well as the answer to several other things such as why I'm not satisfied (and frequently frustrated) in my job, why social situations exhaust me even though I frequently organize them, and why my boyfriend can't seem to marry me.

God, otherwise known as "Martha" (God is relative) recommended a book a few months ago called Please Understand Me, Too. Turns out, it's actually Please Understand Me II, minor detail. Never a fan of self-help books, I for some cosmic reason nonetheless bought the book.

It starts off with with an exercise called the Keirsey Temperment Sorter, which is essentially a Myers-Brigg…