Me... To a T...

i was playing around on my computer this morning (attempting to clean up files and whatnot) when i came across my jungian profile, something i had copied and saved for whatever reason. as i read through it, i realized why - it was a freakishly accurate description of me. so i thought i'd share... i am an INFJ - we comprise only about 1% of the population, and possess the rarest of personality types. (if you'd like to take the test yourself, you can find one here.)


INFJs are distinguished by both their complexity of character and the unusual range and depth of their talents. Strongly humanitarian in outlook, INFJs tend to be idealists, and because of their J preference for closure and completion, they are generally "doers" as well as dreamers. This rare combination of vision and practicality often results in INFJs taking a disproportionate amount of responsibility in the various causes to which so many of them seem to be drawn.


INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people -- a product of the Feeling function they most readily show to the world. On the contrary, INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates." While instinctively courting the personal and organizational demands continually made upon them by others, at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood -- particularly by those who have little experience with this rare type.

Due in part to the unique perspective produced by this alternation between detachment and involvement in the lives of the people around them, INFJs may well have the clearest insights of all the types into the motivations of others, for good and for evil. The most important contributing factor to this uncanny gift, however, are the empathic abilities often found in Fs, which seem to be especially heightened in the INFJ type (possibly by the dominance of the introverted N function).

This empathy can serve as a classic example of the two-edged nature of certain INFJ talents, as it can be strong enough to cause discomfort or pain in negative or stressful situations. More explicit inner conflicts are also not uncommon in INFJs; it is possible to speculate that the causes for some of these may lie in the specific combinations of preferences which define this complex type. For instance, there can sometimes be a "tug-of-war" between NF vision and idealism and the J practicality that urges compromise for the sake of achieving the highest priority goals. And the I and J combination, while perhaps enhancing self-awareness, may make it difficult for INFJs to articulate their deepest and most convoluted feelings.

Usually self-expression comes more easily to INFJs on paper, as they tend to have strong writing skills. Since in addition they often possess a strong personal charisma, INFJs are generally well-suited to the "inspirational" professions such as teaching (especially in higher education) and religious leadership. Psychology and counseling are other obvious choices, but overall, INFJs can be exceptionally difficult to pigeonhole by their career paths. Perhaps the best example of this occurs in the technical fields. Many INFJs perceive themselves at a disadvantage when dealing with the mystique and formality of "hard logic", and in academic terms this may cause a tendency to gravitate towards the liberal arts rather than the sciences. However, the significant minority of INFJs who do pursue studies and careers in the latter areas tend to be as successful as their T counterparts, as it is *iNtuition* -- the dominant function for the INFJ type -- which governs the ability to understand abstract theory and implement it creatively.

In their own way, INFJs are just as much "systems builders" as are INTJs; the difference lies in that most INFJ "systems" are founded on human beings and human values, rather than information and technology. Their systems may for these reasons be conceptually "blurrier" than analogous NT ones, harder to measure in strict numerical terms, and easier to take for granted -- yet it is these same underlying reasons which make the resulting contributions to society so vital and profound.

hmmm.... sounds a little familiar....

No, Seriously... I Mean It

i realize that this caption won't make sense to anyone who doesn't know me and my current health issues, and that no one over on that accursed, addictive website will understand it - but i had to create it anyway...

Reindeer Games, Indeed

i was taking pictures for a special event at the give kids the world village today; 8 busloads of employees from the gap outlet stores came in for 4 hours to do as much work as possible. i was to go from site to site and snap pictures of the volunteers as they painted, landscaped, cleaned, and had fun - to put up on both the gap and gktw websites. i love helping out there whenever i can and today was awesome - with one little exception.

i forgot that on thursdays, it's "christmas" in the village.

now, i was not staying for the festivities, and its not like i mind 900 yards of sparkly garland and fairy lights. given the chance, i can't say my own home wouldn't be festooned with said things. the problem was the music. i'm not a big christmas person, and i never really have been. i can't explain why exactly except to say that for some unknown reason, the holiday makes me sad and kind of depressed-feeling. it's not winter that does it, just christmas itself. i have no idea why this is. must be a past-life thing; who knows? anyway, i can stand the decorations and whatnot, but what bothers me the most is christmas music. more than anything else, it's the music that sets off the sadness. (again, i have no idea why.) as i've grown older, i've found it's easier to be agitated than to be sad, and so my depression due to christmas music has turned to annoyance. true story: the only "holiday" albums i find acceptable to listen to without wanting to hurl myself out a tenth story window are barenaked for the holidays by bnl, a christmas together by john denver and the muppets, and the nightmare before christmas soundtrack (which is not really a christmas album at all). and while i know "christmas is coming" by miss piggy, scooter, and gonzo is somewhere on the playlist, most of the hour-long bgm loop is filled with non-acceptable music. at some point, whilst photographing the gap volunteers, "rudolph the red-nosed reindeer" came on and i actually listened to the words and the story. i mean, of course i know all the words from elementary school plays and family sing-a-longs and all that (complete with random shouted parts in the middle), but i actively listened today and came to this conclusion:

"rudolph the red-nosed reindeer" is a stupid and wildly inaccurate song.

why? because it's a song about this reindeer who's weird and awkward and all the other reindeer make fun of him because of it. they call him stupid names that make no sense (really? pinnochio? his nose glows not grows... typical of bullies) and don't let him play monopoly. (they couldn't make him the banker? no one really wants that job anyway...) then suddenly one christmas eve it's foggy. the other reindeer complain of bad visibility and refuse to fly. "woo-hoo!" they're probably thinking, "we're off the hook this year! we don't have to lug the fat man and two gazillion pounds of toys around the world!" and then here comes rudolph, showing that, however improbably, his little red nose can light up enough sky for the rest of the 'deer to safely maneuver their way to every rooftop the world over.

"but all the other reindeer loved him!" you may cry. "they all shouted with glee!" well, sure they did; they were in front of their boss (i.e. the one that feeds and shelters them and orders grooms to keep them pampered all year long so they'll be ready for the one night out of the year that they actually have to do something) and the boss is ecstatic over the light-up nose. that means that they too must be ecstatic. but do you really think that's going to last? that deep down they're not thinking, "that little twerp! he's a big fat loser and now he'll go down in history? people are going to cheer and sing trite seasonal ditties about him? that's not fair!"? look, as a high school teacher, i am an astute observer of the social food chain and the consequences of stretching beyond your label. now, if rudolph had been smart, he'd have included some of the alpha reindeer in on the scheme. make it look like (to santa, at least) that it wasn't all him - that only with the help of the bigger, bad ass 'deer could he help. but he didn't; he made the classic outcast mistake of jumping in and saving the day - and making it obvious that it was something the others couldn't do even though they constantly professed that they were stronger and better and faster and less shiny.

look, if you love this song (and/or the classic stop-animation movie inspired by it), i'm not trying to take that enjoyment away from you. if it's a great story to you, and you can teach your children and nieces and nephews and what-have-you about the importance of one person, and how even if you don't seem to fit in, you can make a difference - then good on ya. those are lessons every child should learn, and learn well. i'm just saying that after the deliveries were over and santa popped back into oblivion for another 364 days, rudolph probably had an even rougher time of it because the other reindeer felt they had to remind him of his place. i just think they could have been a little more realistic with this scenario, that's all.

or maybe i just think too much about trivial things and over-analyze. a lot...

Look At My Face... My Face! (Or, The Cleavage Conundrum)

clearly, my body is not perfect and there are things about it that i would change if that were an option; it's not (or at least not without surgeries or extensive visits to the gym, neither of which i'm a fan of) so i deal with what i've got. if 4 1/2 years in a theatre costume shop have taught me anything, it's how to accentuate what's awesome, and hide what's not. (well, that and "never distract a freshman boy when he's attempting to use the sewing machine for the first time"... yikes) anyway, what i'm saying here is this: like anyone who's not obnoxiously narcissistic, there are things about my body that i don't particularly like. my breasts, however, never made it to this category.

why are we talking about my breasts, you ask? here's the thing: they've always been quite nice, and not really something i've ever had a problem with. they're large enough to balance out my hips and make me look proportionate, but not large enough to spill out of things or have a mind of their own.

until now.

because a side effect of 2 of the 3 meds i am currently taking is weight gain, i have indeed gained weight. not a ridiculous amount, mind you, but just enough to be thoroughly annoying and cause me to have to buy new pants. however, instead of just padding my hips and my rear like usual, the girls got some padding, too - and it's become a bit awkward. i work with kids, specifically middle and high schoolers. it's just not appropriate to be teaching and tutoring with major cleavage showing. however, i currently find myself trying on shirts that were perfectly professional and acceptable four or five months ago, and discovering that i very clearly need something over or under the garment to make it appropriate. because boys aged 12-16? they may honestly be listening to you and carrying on a conversation, but their eyes will stray if so tempted (and let's be honest, it doesn't take much - and they never really grow out of it, come to think of it, but i'm digressing). it's suddenly much more labor-intensive to dress for work. there is not only the stand-in-front-of-the-mirror check; there's also the sit-in-front-of-the-mirror check and the lean-over-in-case-this-creates-more-cleavage check and the lean-down-like-you're-grading-a-paper check. it's just ridiculous.

what a bizarre "complication" of my illness... what do i do with these things? i've already had to buy new pants, i certainly can't afford to buy new tops too...

Today's Starbucks Experience

i stopped to starbucks before work today because kavitha and i desperately deseved some cold coffee goodness. in front of me in line was a hispanic mullet. that had been carefully and professionally highlighted. with bleach blond on top of nearly black. and then i was served by a younger, slightly skinnier version of michael stipe. all in all, kind of a surreal experience...

It's Alive!

i meant to be in bed hours ago; unfortunately, being the cusp baby that i am, i have too much virgo perfectionist in me to just slap something together. hence the 3:30 a.m. blog. as you may or may not know, i occasionally make my own jewelry, and have decided that there's no reason why i shouldn't make money from this. especially since i need more than i'm currently making. mickey, my extremely awesome massage therapist, is selling some of my stuff, and i've just put up the website. it's simple - the stupid advanced builder where you can customize more stuff is not mac-compatible - but i think it's fairly effective. if you feel the need for a piece of jewelry (for yourself or others), just go to karinarose.homestead.com. feel free to stop by and peruse and give me some feedback.

see? for a small donation, you too can feed a starving karen living in the marshlands of central florida. and you even get a keepsake necklace out of it!

The Laws of the Universe

i swear, in some cosmic rule book somewhere, there is a footnote at the bottom of a clause in the back of an index (in italics) stating that karen rose gibson, born september 20, 1976 in indianapolis, indiana, currently residing in orlando, florida (clearly, the cosmic rule book updates every few weeks to keep on top of things) may not successfully plan any events in conjunction with her birthday. i'm not sure why this is, it just... is. my mother tried arguing with me, but i proved myself right at every turn. sweet 16? spent the 4 or 5 days leading up to it in and out of the hospital with my first ever blinding and uncommonly severe migraine. didn't know if i would even be able to have my party, and half my friends didn't show because they didn't think it was still on. turning 21? that was dress/tech for arkansas bear; i was in the theatre from 8 in the morning to almost 10 at night. when we went out for drinks afterward, everyone drank faster than i did, causing me to slow down (and then stop) because my d.d.'s were all hammered and we had to get home somehow. 23? in overnight rehearsals plus working my normal shifts. for two weeks straight. 27? everybody that mattered had to work late (like till 2 in the morning) all weekend - except demasi, who took me out to dinner, but since we both worked early the next morning, we were in bed by like 10. 30? i had been planning (for close to a year and a half) to go to vegas for that birthday, but in the end, no one could work out the money or the days off, and i certainly wasn't going to someplace like vegas for the first time by myself. last year? oooh, that's a two-parter, and possibly the worst yet: a) john, dale, and i had planned to go see the cure in early september, but the band cancelled the fall tour due to illness and injuries, and didn't resume until may of this year, and 2) i woke up in the wee hours of the 20th to being violently ill, the very beginning of a sickness seems to be permanent.

now, i'm not writing this as a "poor me" blog, and i swear i'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty - this just happens every single year, no matter how much i try to thwart it. and this year, especially, i felt as though - since i had somehow survived the shittiest year ever - i deserved a weekend of birthday fun, with lots of people and activities. i really should have known better. but instead of focusing on what didn't happen, i'm going to list the good things about this weekend. (the first paragraph was just to fill you in so you know why i'm listing. background information, or exposition, if you will.)

1. rob and i discovered an amazing artist at tu tu tango's. you can look at her artwork here.

2. tu tu's makes creme brulee the way it was meant to be made - it was amazing.

3. i found not only birthday shoes, but a birthday hat as well.

4. the planet smoothie near work has a cafe; i tried it on saturday, and the chicken caesar wrap - made with chunks of fresh grilled chicken and real pita bread (like the kind gyros come in) was awesome.

5. i got a birthday massage from my massage therapist, and as such, it was a gift.

6. said massage therapist is selling some of my jewelry (more on this later).

7. as mom and i left after our massages, there was an amazingly beautiful double rainbow to greet us. it was so vivid, you could even see both bands of violet, which you can rarely see clearly.

8. me, my parents, rob's parents, and the robs had a cook-out and enjoyed a lovely evening of food and conversation and playing dominoes and deserts. there were lots of yummy desserts. (hmmm... there's a lot of food on this list...)

9. rob's dad make one of his famous cheese balls for the occasion. (ok, apparently much of what's good in my world consists of tasty treats...)

so, good stuff there... as i've learned in the past year, it's all about perspective, and i need to find the most positive one and stick with it. it's the best way to survive.

Shaving Cream to the Rescue, Part Deux

it appears that the shaving cream works! the port wine is gone, and there is no discoloration in the area. actually, it's a bit better looking than if i'd just used carpet cleaner... i wonder if i should just go with shaving cream when it's time to move out...

(thanks to steve for reminding me that i had promised a part 2... with my parents in town, i had totally forgotten!) :o)

I Am Officially the MOST Professional Girl Ever...

because i successfully applied fake eyelashes in a car moving through orlando traffic. i am good. :o)

Shaving Cream to the Rescue, Part 1

a little bit ago i spilled some port wine on the carpeting. (stupid hips. always causing problems...) and to be honest, for a minute there i wasn't sure what was more upsetting: the fact that i now had to somehow get rid of a wine stain, or that i wasted a very good (and a bit expensive) port. i have no idea how to clean that up, but luckily i have a cable modem and a mac. i went to ask.com and posed my question to jeeves. (and, sidebar, i really kind of miss jeeves. i liked the pretense of a butler standing by to answer my questions. and yes, i know i'm a dork, shush.) several home remedies included things that i did not have: hydrogen peroxide, certain types of carpet/tile cleaners, blue dawn dishwashing liquid (does it have to be the blue kind? what if you only have, say, yellow?). however, i found one suggestion that required something i did have - shaving cream. now, granted, it's aveeno sensitive skin cream with aloe, but i was running out of options.

so i squirted the shaving cream onto the carpet, rubbed it in, and attempted to clean it up. i totally forgot how much shaving cream foams up as i usually just use soap. at this point the carpet is saturated, but there doesn't seem to be a violent scarlet blemish there anymore. which means that either a) the shaving cream worked like a dream - and who would've thought? or b) i've simply diluted the port and the whole section is actually a nice shade of pink. we'll have to see in the morning.... i'll keep you posted...