Monday, July 29, 2013

Top ten myths about Introverts

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.

This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.

Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.

Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.

On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.

Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.

Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.

Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.

Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.

Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.

Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

This list was inspired by the book The Introvert Advantage: How to Thrive in an Extrovert World by Marti Laney.

Thursday, July 25, 2013


Sometimes I wonder what would happen if everyone so inclined to act negatively in any way didn’t. People do such stupid things at times. They do it out of spite, just because they can. Because it makes them feel better about themselves. That they have this power over another person by doing this act. What if every act that was meant to be done to ‘teach someone a lesson’ or just to make another person feel something less positive by that act was eliminated? It seems like the idealist cliché, but then again sometimes one needs to continually consider just things.

Why do people do these things? Because they think they are right, when they are not – but ignorantly believe so, and thus that the other person is wrong, and therefore needs to be taught a lesson or given this treatment. Or perhaps, they don’t see the act they are doing as one that is wrong. Maybe they do it just because they lack quite a lot in their own self, and lash out with acts that make them feel better about themselves somehow.

I guess we could go on speculating about why a person would be or do things spitefully, with malice or why we as humans need to do things at all that cause a negative effect. Maybe it’s as basic as our need to survive. Sometimes, though, one wonders.

If I did everything so that no one was affected negatively – what would change? Or rather, ask myself, what things occur as part of the natural order of things in which a person or thing is affected negatively by something I did, and if that were to be eliminated, what would change in who or what I am?

If I get a job position that is only granted to one person – the other candidates are eliminated. But is that the same thing? Maybe what I’m really addressing is the intentional act of a person to construe negativity directly or even indirectly by an act deemed unnecessary by reasonableness.

So the example I thought of previously – which was the only thing I could think of in my life which does – ah, I thought of another: mocking individuals for their immature and inane behaviour! Comments of which type I have made a several times on this blog (see previous blog). I laugh and mock these individuals because of their behaviour: threatening and abusing and harassing. I feel that I am right in doing so, because their acts allow me the prerogative as an individual with moral judgement.

So therefore considering by this example alone that – taking the individuals as members of a social ecosystem – that moral judgement varies quite substantively even within such a small population, we would then understand that the greater that population grows, the greater the realm of morality stretches.

This is why – despite my annoyance at certain people for performing disappointedly in such spiteful and negative manners – I need to be able to accept this variable in others. I cannot hold on to it, despite its direct adverse affect on me. My karma is mine, theirs is theirs. I rise above, a better person.

And yes, that’s all what all this is about: it’s me, ranting.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013


I found myself again thinking, why did I make so many different blogs to post on? Okay, it made sense on the outset, and somewhat still does - a blog for poetry? A blog for music? Nice and organized. No problem with those. But whenever I write on Lucid Iridescence, or try to write HERE and still sound serious, I find myself in a dilemma, because I debate where to post. Sometimes when I am really down under the dumps and need to write just for the sake of emoting, that makes it pretty easy for me: Lucid Iridescence is where it's at. But then sometimes, I just go thoughtful, and that's harder to figure out, because, while I tend to write quite abstractedly when very thoughtful, it does not necessarily mean I don't want people to know how I am feeling.

Once upon a time, when I first started blogging, I was all our crazy. I wrote everything and anything as if it were my diary. My friends were all into my hyperventilating, gushing, exclamation-filled life, and I had no hangups about people knowing whatever I felt. Mostly, because that stuff wasn't as important or under-the-skin as things are for me now. I - well, oh boy, this is a little confession of mine to make - have been reading Princess Diaries lately, and YES I realize it's the life of a teenaged girl in HIGHSCHOOL but, whatever, I enjoy it!

She reminds me of myself so quite alot (and as such I sometimes get strong reminders of Wanderer and Layla). But yeah, I sometimes wish I could write everything down the way she does. But I don't know, a blog now doesn't seem that appropriate a place to document every single thing happening in one's life. Especially considering the number of weird fobbistic stalkers on the internet who try to read everything as if it's going to give them a clue to your personal home address so they can  - ha! in their dreams - 'come over' (and - what? pay $1000 bucks to take a plane over? Aww, for me?) and scare the living daylights out of you, or -more realistically- mock you about their 'information that they are 100% confident about'. Anyways, if you think I am actually afraid of these people that's another think coming. I'm just saying it for the sake of having it said.

Nah. It's not so much that. It's just one's personal boundary that somehow grows somewhat more rigid as we age. I mean, duh we had no hang-ups about walking about in our pampers when we were 10 months old? But now? See what I mean?

Anyways -- I also wanted to state that I have noticed that my dreams, when I remember them, are quite dystopian. And vividly so. Sometimes, when I awaken and somewhat recall the previous night's dream (or, to be accurate, the last dream of many dreams the night before), I think in amazement about how awesome my mind is. If my dreams were optioned and made into movies, by gosh, we would not have a dearth of entertainment!


In the idle minutes between turning off the night light and actually succumbing to sleep, I found myself in that strange world of grey. Thoughts abound, and so often as not, they did so subconsciously, sneaking upon the threshold of my mindscape to dance and flitter like fairylights. And as often said with coming upon fairylights on a stray path at twilight, you will not know where they lead you and where you end up falling asleep. Somewhere in that drowsy state I came upon the surface of consciousness severally, and surviving with a memory to put down my experience in words.

The day before comprised of several elements of philosophy – which to one other person reading this would be understood as an ironic pun that cannot be explained to others – that which was built upon by moments of introspection and retrospection. Some days ago I again stumbled upon this quote that read along the lines of how we learn the most from those who are most different from us. And perhaps that answers the long radio silence present upon this blog since the last few months. My words have fallen heavily upon the ground before they reached formative development in words.

I intend not to seem alieniloquent, though I realize I often do. Forgive me and stay with me, for my point is forthcoming, I promise.

Introspection has its boundary when one remains an island. Governed by the concepts of our experience, we often see the same picture despite revisiting the scene repeatedly. For our perspective is such that it is seen through our minds eye in the manner we recorded it the first time around. New elements are added with cognitive growth, yes, but often new paths to an experience are discouragingly less frequent as we plateau in our mental graph.

One might take an instance of a horrifying memory. As a child placed upon a towering wall that caused the knees to tremble and the lower lip as well, so inasmuch that we have been traumatized by the experience of being up so high and instilled with this fear of falling from huge heights. We remember, somewhat vaguely, the teasing jeers of our parents and siblings, perhaps, as they who had placed us up there told us to jump and they would catch us. But we are locked in place by this fear. And throughout the years, this memory is made concrete not by the physical memory, but by our emotional memory. We recall firsthand the feelings. Though we might have been but a small child as much as 4 years, we may take with us this concrete knowledge that we are factually altophobic. And yet, perhaps 30 years later, we may one day visit that ailing parent and take their hand to go to the local park for a daily walk for the elderly legs, and sitting upon a bench, reminisce as one does. The parent might point to a low wall or fence nearby, and chuckling say how cute we were standing upon that wall and crying for our life, when to our astonishment, that wall might not be even 2 feet high. Our reality is only perception.

A friend sharing a personal history lent an air of reminiscence that I hadn’t indulged in for some time. Doing so for oneself often leads to disgustingly morbid phases of self-pity. When we begin from inside and extrapolate it to our environment, most often we tend to become disillusioned because we have created our binoculars to view our surroundings – not just physical, but our place in life – biased with lenses of “me, me, me”. We eliminate our ability to accept through seeing positive patterns long-term. Often, remember I say, not always.

When another person, dear to oneself, comes to you with a problem, however, we remove those blinds of bias. Because we want to give them a solution, we want them to ease their pain. We take off the blindfolds to positivity and show them, by shining the lights brightly, everything that’s good about what they have. That’s why it is often so better to use that perception and shine it upon our own memory, for we might not know what we have been missing by looking into our closet in the dark.

I came across a memory that existed in the grey, and took it out and dusted it off last night. It is, in actuality, the point of all this I have written. This memory took me back to a memory I threw off, since it involved a bad judgement in personal relations. What I discovered rather was that these things, though seemingly regretful, often just happen like a stepping stone in a pond. Maybe that stone was a bit slippery, slimy with moss, as you tried to navigate the treacherous waters to the other side – or wherever you may have been going, if, as in my case, you had not even known where your destination was to be. But still that rock was there just as you were losing your balance, and desperately, you might have decided that it was better to land your foot on the rock, however risky it looked, than give up entirely and fall into the rushing waters. So you put your foot forward and let yourself lean on the rock, and though it proved to be a temporary mistake – for it really was horribly slippery, and made you again lose your balance, you then fell forward and, serendipitously, landed upon another rock which took you right to the shores where you were meant to be.

Let me tell you, I am so glad to be on these shores today. So much that, despite all the aggravation of the memory that I let this person do this, or trusted the wrong person, I understand that had I not, I perhaps would not actually be where I am today. It’s more a beautiful realization when I remember that I had not realized that I would. I acknowledge that I am still searching, so many other elements to satisfaction remain unattained as yet, or they come and go to provide me with a continuous task, but, today, for this moment, it’s as if I have paused a moment on the climb up the precipice of the tallest mountain, to look behind me and beyond, to that which I have encountered, experienced and conquered, achieve the wondrous expanse before me stretching far and wide. An experience does not have to be right now and up close. Seeing that distance that is so far and vast isn’t only for tomorrow, experiencing it now and today - that is what life is now.

Friday, July 19, 2013

And that's how the fight started..

(More for the guys) 

My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.
I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have Sex?'
'No,' she answered.
I then said, 'Is that your final answer?'

... She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, 'Yes..'
So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And that's when the fight started...


I took my wife to a restaurant.

The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.

"I'll have the rump steak, rare, please."
He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?"
"Nah, she can order for herself."

And that's when the fight started.....


My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school
reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his
drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.

I asked her, "Do you know him?"
"Yes", she sighed,
"He's my old boyfriend. I understand he took to drinking
right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he
hasn't been sober since."

"My God!" I said, "Who would think a person could go on
celebrating that long?"

And then the fight started...


When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed.
But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first, the shed, the boat,
making beer.. Always something more important to me.

Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.
When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing
scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into
the house. I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again
I handed her a toothbrush.

I said, "When you finish cutting the
grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.


My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.
She asked, "What's on TV?"
I said, "Dust."

And then the fight started...


Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the
boat up to the van and proceeded to back out into a torrential
downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather
would be bad all day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. I cuddled up to my wife's back;
now with a different anticipation,
and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."

My loving wife of 5 years replied, "And, can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?"

And that's how the fight started...


My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.
She said, "I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds."

I bought her a bathroom scale.

And then the fight started......


After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply
for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me

for my driver's License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets

and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that

I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'.
So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair.

She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office.

She said, 'You should have dropped
your pants. You might have gotten disability too.'

And then the fight started...


My wife was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.

She was not happy with what she saw and said to me,
"I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you
to pay me a compliment.'

I replied, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."

And then the fight started........


I rear-ended a car this morning...the start of a REALLY bad day!

The driver got out of the other car, and he was a DWARF!!
He looked up at me and said 'I am NOT Happy!'
So I said, 'Well, which one ARE you then?'

That's how the fight started.


One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot
as a Christmas gift...

The next year, I didn't buy her a gift.
When she asked me why, I replied,
"Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"

And that's how the fight started.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Quote of the Day

“What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?”

― George Eliot, Adam Bede

Monday, July 15, 2013

How do you decide who to marry?

 (written by kids)

A group of young kids were asked how to decide who to marry and here are the results which are pretty amusing.


(1) You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
- Alan, age 10

(2) No person really decides before they grow up who they’re going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you’re stuck with.
- Kristen, age 10


(1) Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
- Camille, age 10

(2) No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
- Freddie, age 6 (very wise for his age)


(1) You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
- Derrick, age 8


(1) Both don’t want any more kids.
- Lori, age 8


(1) Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
- Lynnette, age 8 (isn’t she a treasure)

(2) On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that Usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
- Martin, age 10


(1) I’d run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
-Craig, age 9


(1) When they’re rich.
- Pam, age 7

(2) The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn’t want to mess with that.
- Curt, age 7

(3) The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It’s the right thing to do.
- Howard, age 8


(1) I don’t know which is better, but I’ll tell you one thing. I’m never going to have sex with my wife. I don’t want to be all grossed out.
- Theodore, age 8

(2) It’s better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
- Anita, age 9 (bless you child)


(1) There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn’t there?
- Kelvin, age 8

And the #1 Favorite is……..

(1) Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck.
- Ricky, age 10


Tuesday, July 09, 2013


So, my story of the day is this: I looked at the clock, and it flipped to the next minute.

Sometimes I get amazed and the many ways we can find reminders about the many wonders and blessings in life. What were the odds of the flicker of my eyes toward the digital clock at to read the time just when it decides to switch right before my eyes in the very millisecond my glance lasted?

I also spent a lot of time outside walking, got the requisite tans (even more pronounced), and provided business to the Muslim restaurant on the way of my walks, where the guy gave me an extra samosa, which I didn't know was in the bag until I reached it.

Ramadan Mubarak to those celebrating. :)

Friday, July 05, 2013


Today was one of those days where, strangely enough, I found myself somewhat bored. My first inclination in starting this post was then to write how naturally it would have made perfect sense, thus, to pay a visit to this blog and put the figurative pen to the paper.

I didn't. Well before this, I mean. But yeah, I don't normally get bored. I have always believed that it is impossible to be bored unless you're a boring person. Then I did some unconscious thinking - meaning I didn't really think this out point by point, but the mind made the leap subconsciously; I figured that I chose to be bored. I was sitting at my laptop, bored. Why was I sitting? I could so easily could have gotten up and gone to do something else - the many things I have been doing while not around here - but rather, I somewhat possessively decided to persist in sitting at my laptop, expecting that I would find things to do.

Now one might ask why I was so insistent in doing that. Well it's not so philosophical an answer: my internet had been AWOL the past couple of days (no pay-your-bills jokes please, they are stale and unfortunately already stated, no less). It is one thing to avoid something as your own choice, it is something entirely else when it is being denied to you. You want it more.

So there you have it. For a couple of hours, I sat at my laptop, wondering where all the people I normally communicate with were. After a few minutes of actually contacting some, my bum decided it had enough of sitting, and so I closed the laptop and went off to do something else.

One of these things is the reason why I have chosen to rise from the undead: I was leaning against my windowsill and just looking out at the summer day (this is one of my favourite things to do).  I just randomly decided to take a peek outside, and at that very second I glimpsed a bird (one of a pair) getting tangled in this weird string thingy that extends from the rooftop above my window across the street to the big tree on the other side. I don't know what this string is, my best guess would be that belonging to an escaping kite. The bird thankfully flapped its wings a few times, mid-air, and got free, and carried on. But it gave me reason to pause a second longer, in thought.

I could have not gone to the window that very second - I could have paused a bit longer on the stairs going up, or been busy with my kitten a moment longer. The possibilities are endless, and yet for that split second that event happened, I was able to witness it. A second sooner, a second later, I wouldn't have. And that made me realize how many different ways we are blessed with rarities we don't realize every day.