Week Twelve: Not Gonna Reach My Telephone

Fact: I have a cell phone.

Fact: I have skype.

Fact: I have a home phone (well, my fambly does.)

Fact: Talking on the telephone is a huge source of stress for me.



Firstly, I never know what to say. I know it's "just like talking in person", but I can't see your face. That's what you do when you talk to people in person, you see their faces.



Secondly, I'm dreadful at HANGING UP.

"So yeah."

"Yup."

"..."

"..."

"Okay then, did you have anything else you wanted to say?"

"No, Whimsy, I just called to talk."

"Oh. Right. Yes."

*silence*

Me, thinking: "Okay, where do we go from here?"

Me, talking: "Nice weather, huh?"




Then there's the terror known at the answering machine. O__O

"...Please leave a message after the beep."

"Hi, this is Whimsy calling. I was going to call for a reason, but I forgot so there's really no reason to call and talk to you, but it's been a while since we've talked so I thought we could talk but yeah.
So I guess you aren't there cuz if you WERE there you'd have picked up the phone, and if you want and it's not a bad time for you, call me back. No stress so if you're doing something important don't bother, I was just thinking...
Anyway. My phone number is 62442, in case you don't know that. Which you do. Cuz I called your cell phone and it saves my number and OH! Right! You had borrowed a book from me and if you're finished with it I'd like it back for I miss it and I want it to come home. Did I leave my number yet? I think I did. Anyway-"

*BEEEEEEP*

*blank stare at phone*

"Shit."


Or then there's that horrible fear that you have just called at the worst possible time, while everyone has the plague, there's a fire in the house, they're eating dinner with the grandparents, AND American Idol is on TV.

"Hi, this is Whimsy. Bad time?"

"...I called you."

"I knew that! I was testing you!"



And what do you do when you're ON THE PHONE? Do you sit there, just listening to the other person talk? Am I the only person who just can't sit still while talking on the phone? For serious, if I'm in my room, I will walk backandforthandbackandforth until I hang up. It's nervous energy.

On top of that, I talk with my hands a lot as well. I'm a very animated and visual person, so if you're talking to me on the phone, you're missing about half of what I'm saying. I gesticulate excessively. I can't help it.



And then there's the house phone when somebody calls. If it rings, and I'm the person who's the closet to it, I will do the hot-potato-toss-the-phone-to-anyone-else maneuver that I am so adept at.

God forbid I have to pick it up.

"Hi-this-is-Whimsy-how-are-you?"

"Hi Whimsy! I can tell your voice on the phone! I'm good, how are you?"

"I'm good, how are you?"

*Awkward lapse into silence as I realize what I've said.*

"Haha, I'm good!"

"That's...good."

Palm, meet face.



It's even worse for me if I don't KNOW the person. I can pick up the phone on Arc without TOO much stress now, but it took a long time to get to that point, and I still don't like it that much. If I have to talk to somebody who I don't know, and it's a kinda-important call, I will start having a panic attack.

Long story short?
Phones and Whimsy are NOT FRIENDS.

Am I the only one who feels like this? For some reason, Skype is different.

You want to IM me? We can do that all day long. ^___^




P.S. I tell people all the time that I don't like talking on the phone. Most of the time, they go "Aww, it's okay, I won't bite" and try to make me feel comfortable with talking to them.
It's not you. Really.
I like you. I don't like telephones.

P.P.S. All I can think about is that Lady Gaga Telephone song in my head. It will NOT leave.

Week Six: The Inner Workings Of Whimsy's Brain

As some of you may know, I take ASL* lessons with my sister. This past Sunday (Did I mention that the lessons are Sunday nights?) as we were talking/practicing/learning/talking about Doctor Who in sign, we got to talking about Jung personality types**, and out tutor sent us a link to go take the test ourselves.

Anyhow, long story short, I've been strongarming all my friends, family and cohorts*** into joining in and taking the test and sharing their results with me.

As it turns out, I am an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving) type. At some points, the blurb got me SPOT ON, like here:

ISFPs tend to be quiet and reserved, and difficult to get to know well. They hold back their ideas and opinions except from those who they are closest to. They are likely to be kind, gentle and sensitive in their dealings with others.

and here:

ISFPs celebrate their own uniqueness, as well as everybody else's, and don't appreciate being judged harshly for their differences.

and here:

ISFPs are able to get along with most of the other personality types, although they tend to be reserved around those they don't know well. They will enjoy spending time with others who share their interests, and who understand and accept the ISFP for who they are. They greatly value their space and autonomy, and appreciate other's respect for that.

but like most things, it's not a perfect fit. Like where it talks about ISFP's being "Flexible and laid back", and "most have a special affinity with babies...", it's not quite right. Nonetheless, if you want to read all about the supposed inner workings of my brain (which honestly is more accurate than not, or so I think), you can do so HERE.

Which brings me to what I really wanted to do with this blog post. Go HERE, take the test (yes it's long, but it's oh-so-interesting) and leave a comment with your type!


Part two!
CEU's.
For those who don't know, CEU's are Continuing Education Credits. My library has this program where you can sign up and take all these classes online in ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS. I'm thinking that I might end up doing that, so that's going to be fun!

In other news...My roof is leaking! HOORAY! Yes, indeed. With all the snow we've gotten (up here in the Northeast USA) my house is now leaking. It's been a crazy few days, trying to keep up with all the dripping and bucket-changing and wet-towel-drying, but I think we've got it under control...fingers crossed, eh?

I have a kinda-sorta-plan for next week's blog, so keep an eye out for that!

Off to create madness,
Whimsy

P.S. Just as I finished writing this, the dog sneezed so hard, she smacked her face into the floor. Poor baby.


*American Sign Language for those who don't know.

**Yes, it's hard to talk about this all in ASL, that's where finger-spelling and actually TALKING OUT LOUD comes into play. O__O

***I just wanted to use the word...I'll admit it.

Week Two: An Adventure!

Sunday, January second.
In which Whimsy goes out on a shopping trip, and has quite a day.

As some of you may know, I got some of the typical female genes. Examples: The I-Love-Romantic-Comedies gene, the Hey-I-Like-To-Dress-Up-In-Fancy-Clothing-Sometimes gene, and a few more that for the life of me I can't think of right now, but that's pretty much where it ends. You see, I missed out on one of the most female-typical genes in the world.

I. Hate. Shopping. So. Much.

So, we start off with going to Target*. Now, if you've never been to Target, let me tell you about it. It's big, it's red and it's full of a LOT of crap that I would never buy.

Anyhow, I had to return something there, and while I was there, I saw jeans. I have REALLY LONG LEGS, and if you do not have long legs, you don't know the pain that is attempting to get pants to fit your legs. Mostly, I get my clothes at thrift stores, since (most of the time) I find that paying $25 dollars for a pair of pants, no matter HOW brilliant they are is just stupid.

There I am, in the target jeans section. WHO KNEW THAT THERE ARE SO MANY DIFFERENT KINDS OF JEANS???
So, I grab a few pairs that look like they'd be in my right range, regardless of one being a "fit 3" and the other being a "fit 6".

So, I go into the changing room, and I start to pull on the jeans. They're getting caught on my socks, so I pull off my socks, and try again. After fighting with this pair of jeans for around about five min, I finally get them on. My legs feel like sausages stuffed into VERY TIGHT CASING. Stiff-leggedly, I wander over to show the rest of my family.

Sister: "WOAH."
Me: "I. Cannot. Move."
Sister: *snickers*
Me: *looking down at rag on jeans* "This says 'Skinny'. These must be 'skinny jeans'. I will never wear these again."

So, I go back to the dressing room, and find a pair that does NOT say "skinny", and try that on. I end up with two pairs of 'bootcut' jeans...whatever THAT means.

So, we're leaving the store...FINALLY, and I see the Converse shoes display, and a pair of purple Converse. My first thought: "Ten wore those..." And then, "EVERYONE WEARS THOSE". People who followed me during BEDA, will recall my intense dislike of ANYTHING "conformist", so I brushed by them, after asking my mum, (who has much better fashion sense than I do) if I could wear my white sneakers with my new (very dark blue) jeans. She suggested that we look at the shoes, since I had never really liked my sneakers...

I had Intense Emotional Turmoil over these shoes, but FINALLY, new shoes. Plaid converse shoes. (The purple wasn't in my size. I was sad.)

Now, what the most hilarious bit is, I LOVE THESE NEW SHOES. For the first time in a LONG TIME, I like my shoes.

There was no point to that. Now you know what shoes I wear.

ANYHOW.

Bookstore! Whimsy becomes MUCH happier. I got Dash and Lily's Book Of Dares, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. I am ALREADY DONE WITH IT. Such a good book. Such awesome characters. So much laughter. You all need to go and read that book. RIGHT NOW.

The other book I got is The Wake Of The Lorelei Lee. It's the eighth book in the Bloody Jack books, a series I COULD NOT LOVE MORE IF I TRIED. Pirates, feminists, street urchins, Brits, history, well done writing, a fantastic heroine, seafaring...all that good stuff. Read those too. Start with Bloody Jack, and keep going.

On our way home, after stopping at a few more places**, we start to realize that the car is acting weird. On the way home, the car breaks down...THREE TIMES.

Thank whatever-it-is-you-believe-in, but we somehow made it home. WOW.

Oh, in the next few weeks, I will be talking about one of my newest obsessions, Doctor Who and Torchwood, and HOPEFULLY changing my blog background.

That is the longest post EVER about nothing at all.




Too long, didn't read?
I hate shopping, skinny jeans and conformity, I own Converse, read books, the car broke but I'm okay, I love Who and Torchwood, and ZOMG THE BLOG MAY LOOK DIFFERENT SOON.


*falls on floor to watch chick flicks*

Vividly,
Whimsy



*Yes, bad and anti-gay, but what are you going to do? I already boycott Wal*Mart.

**Fabric store for fabric for a tunic my sister is making me, and electronic store.

BEDA, Day Three: Quirky

I completely realize that yesterday's blog was LONG.

I know, I know. You have to understand that when I am passionate about a subject, I tend to be long winded. Forgive me, readers who looked at that monstrosity and said "no friggin' way".

Let us talk about something else today.

Let's talk about quirks. We all have 'em. Some of us love 'em. Some are stranger than others.

Here's a list of my quirks:

I talk to myself. Correction. I talk to books. I know this is odd. I'll be at a library and see a book that I like. I'll say "Now, don't you look interesting" as I pick the book up and thumb through it. This has the pro of amusing myself, but the con of freaking out the other patrons of the library. Oops.


I cannot STAND ricotta cheese. The stuff sends shivers down my spine. I won't touch anything with that vile abomination in it or even near it. Not. Kidding.


I am a naturally messy person. Dear reader, if you could see my desk, you's wonder how the hell I'm composing this blog post on it. MESS. However, my library in the other room is organized by Author's last name, and within that, what books go chronologically in the series, and from that, what copies I got first. Since I have no fewer than 4 copies of Prisoner Of Azkaban, this is a needed precaution.
If someone messes with my library...woe betide them.
Did I mention that each book has a tag in it where I have the name of the person who checked out the book and the date it was checked out, so I know who has what book of mine at all times? Because I have that.


What other quirks do I have? So far, I have covered cheese and books. Not much variety there.

Let us think.

I change my voice around all the time just for the hell of it. Scottish, English, Medieval, high pitched voice, deep voice, robot, singing everything...you name it, I think I've done it.
This is why I amuse myself so well.


I can stand in front of a mirror, entertaining myself by twisting my face into un-godly shapes. When I was little, I scared myself by doing this in a dark room with a only a flashlight to see by. I think I'm scarred for life. Still.


Those are but few of my quirks.

What are yours?
Leave them in the comments! I read(and subsequently eat)every comment.

~Whimsy