16 May 2014

Yeah, I Just Wrote a Blog Post About Pop-Tarts.

Written by sally @ 8:38 pm — Section: sally

1. My next door neighbors and I have one of those extremely coveted neighborly relationships where we borrow things from each other’s houses, take care of each other’s animals, and preheat each other’s ovens. (I have yet to require my oven to be preheated but I do offer this service for them, and have done so before.) They also babysit my child, and sometimes just for 10 minutes while it’s pouring down rain so I can run to the store without dragging a wet child around.

One item that they request pretty often is brown sugar-cinnamon Pop-Tarts, usually around 8:30 at night. Since I’m a pajama-laden hermit, I usually just put them on the porch and text back with a friendly “PORCH” so as not to interact with anyone unnecessarily. I have started buying them expressly for the neighbors because if that’s the price I pay for 10 minute thunderstorm babysitting then I WILL BUY THE POP-TARTS.

Two days ago one of them came over with a grocery bag. “We’re replacing your Pop-Tarts!” she said. That was sweet, but unnecessary; if we’re going to start paying each other back or replacing the things we borrow that’s just going to throw this whole operation off.

I shouldn’t have worried. Today she texted and asked, “Do you have any Pop-Tarts I can borrow?”

2.
Brown sugar-cinnamon (frosted)
Blueberry (frosted)
Strawberry (frosted)
NOTHING ELSE

3. Because I’ve been a toaster pastry enthusiast for a while now, back in, I don’t know, 1991 or so there was a promotion where if you sent in some Pop-Tarts box tops you could get some Pop-Tarts merchandise. T-shirts, frisbees, you know, really great Pop-Tarts related material. The thing that I wanted, and that which required the fewest number of Pop-Tarts box tops, was a POP-TARTS COMEDY VIDEO. Oh yeah, baby. Give me that sweet, hot VHS comedy goodness! So I ate the hell out of some Pop-Tarts and I collected those box tops and I mailed them in and one day, my POP-TARTS COMEDY VIDEO came in the mail, just as promised! I “popped” it in (GET IT) and oh. OH. Y’all. Guess what? Paula Poundstone tells jokes about Pop Tarts. She claims to just really fucking love Pop-Tarts. She says she eats a box a day. There’s a BOX OF POP-TARTS sitting next to her. The one thing I did think was funny is that she’s like “hey, the Pop-Tart eaters are watching this,” and before then I just never considered myself in a category like that before. Pop-Tart eater. There’s no arguing there.

So, because the internet won’t allow anything to exist only in our memories, enjoy.

My, My.

Written by sally @ 2:24 pm — Section: sally

Have you noticed that the Myers-Briggs is suddenly everywhere? Which extinct animal/bagel topping relates to YOUR Myers-Briggs type? (I am, naturally, sabertooth tiger/poppyseed.) (Actually that makes more sense to me than being Draco Malfoy.) I’m not complaining. I have come to trust the MBTI as a useful tool to explain the weirdos around me.

A friend is late picking me up? He’s such a P. Another friend is freaking out about the time? Such a J. Someone’s telling a really long story and including every possible detail and it’s really boring? Total S. Coworker’s office is immaculate to the point that you think they might be a serial killer? Probably an SJ.

Trying to figure out everyone’s type is not that dissimilar to how I tried to figure out who was a virgin and who wasn’t in my high school yearbook and wrote V or NV on everyone’s head. (Maybe that last part wasn’t necessary…I’d probably go for a nice color coded system now that I’m much more mature.) Recently I realized that I could also apply my new favorite classification system to my past relationships, and oh, if you thought I was annoying about the MBTI before, look out!

While they haven’t been typed, I am 10,000% sure that my two ex-husbands are both ESFPs. That’s Extroverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving. Do you know what I am? THE TOTAL OPPOSITE OF THAT. I’m Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging.

Being INTJ means that I need time alone, that I don’t ask a lot of questions but try to figure things out on my own, that I make decisions based on patterns and facts and not my emotions, and that I am rigid about rules and time.

That means that when someone talks about their feelings and I don’t react that I’m a heartless robot. It means when someone is late for dinner it means he doesn’t care. And so on. Discovering this has been beyond interesting to me.

So how does Tammy Wynette’s Cousin fit into this? I asked him to take the test. He texted me the results. This was essentially our conversation:

TWC: I took the Myers-Briggs. I’m INTJ.
Me: OH FUCK WE’RE SCREWED
TWC: …

I’m not sure why my initial reaction was total panic, but it turns out that having the exact same MBTI means that when TWC does something I totally don’t understand, I think about why I would do that thing, and I can usually figure it out. Let’s say I haven’t heard from him all evening. It’s not because he’s mad or sad or been murdered. It’s because it’s Monday and he’s at band practice and he didn’t tell me he was going to band practice because it’s always on Monday and it literally did not occur to him not to text me and say “hey, going to that thing I always go to at the same time every week, talk to you later.” Because if he did I’d probably think duh, I know.

It also means that because neither one of us is very emote-y, then by default because I am a lady (hi, stereotype) I get to be the emoter! I’ve never been the emoter because look, both parties in a relationship can’t be emoting all over each other all the time. Someone’s got to make the rational decisions, like “let’s leave 15 minutes early for the place we know for a fact that it takes 8 minutes to get to just in case there’s traffic or we can’t find a parking space because that one time we couldn’t find a space and had to park illegally and I worried about it the whole time.”

Anyway, I look forward to continuing to sort the world in order to make sense of it. Which one are you: introvert, everything bagel, Hermione, or virgin?