Narcissistic Birthday Post

Last weekend, I celebrated my 31st birthday. In honor of my big day, I’m giving myself the gift of allowing myself to talk about myself for a few moments.

At least you aren’t being forced to read this, right?

31 Things You May Or May Not Know, Or Want To Know, About Me

On the Myers-Briggs personality profile, I score as an INTJ. My I:E, N:S, and T:F ratios are all either 8:2 or 9:1. My J:P ratio is more like 6:4. Some of you will know what this means and you will find it interesting. Those of you who don’t know what this means probably don’t care.

One of my deepest fears, as an introvert, is that people mistake my distance for a lack of personal interest. I actually really, really like most people and, if I had the emotional energy, I would love to be more engaged.

Being an “introverted thinker” makes me a terrible wife if I’m not careful to make adjustments for the sake of my husband.

When people have husband:wife conversations and talk about the differences between men and women, I usually have more in common (emotionally) with the men in the scenario.

I’ve always made faster friends with boys and men than with girls, but I am not a women-hater by any means. It’s just always been easier for me to speak the language of men than of women.

One of my favorite aspects of being a mother has been the way mothering has liberated the caretaker/emotional/nurturer side of me that has never really had a place to exercise itself. I didn’t quite know what to expect of myself when I approached motherhood, but I have been amazed by my capacity to love my children.

I think I’ve always been a terrible roommate. (Maybe some of you can attest to that.)

I am a complete idiot when it comes to cleaning. You know how some people “just don’t get” math or philosophy or music theory? I feel that way about cleaning. It is a daily struggle for me to remember that the fan needs to be dusted. If we were wealthy, I would hire a housekeeper.

I am the same way about shopping and clothes. It is, literally, like a foreign language to me. I simply don’t get it.

In high school, I swore off beauty products for ideological reasons. I spent the next seven years in various stages of anti-beauty (on purpose). It was a very strange, but very important, few years.

I’m still trying to navigate the world of beauty, fashion, and femininity. This is another thing that makes my relationship with women a little–awkward.

For a year after college, I sold athletic shoes as my main source of income while traveling and playing music on the weekends. I was actually fantastic at sales and great at my job, but it eventually starting sucking my soul. I just could not justify making money by convincing people that they need a $150 pair of running shoes. It felt dirty.

Being an idealist really gets in the way of life sometimes.

The only serious career aspirations I ever remember having were: First, to be an Egyptologist (this was in grade school); In middle school and into high school, I considered being an interior designer or architect; By the time I graduated from high school, I was pursuing music ministry.

(There was also a brief period during which I aspired to be a professional water skier. No joke.)

My college degree is in Worship Arts. It’s a fancy way to say that I know a lot about why Christians do what they do when they get together at church and I’ve spent many, many hours thinking about how to do it better.

When we got married, my husband and I decided to live in Over-the-Rhine.

We were here to plant a church.

It did not go so well.

(There is more to every story.)

We have now lived in OTR for more than five years. We have a serious love/hate relationship with our life here, but it’s very hard to imagine ever leaving.

But I still dream about moving far, far away from the city.

One of the reasons I love cities is that I am fascinated by architecture and the spaces we inhabit–both private and public. You can tell a lot about a culture by the spaces they inhabit.

I think my love for architecture was birthed from my father’s love for it. As a child, he took me with him to scope out unfinished homes, mid-construction and then also to open houses on new homes in the area. In middle school, I would beg my mother for magazines of house plans instead of fashion magazines.

One of the reasons I never went into design or architecture is that I’m not a very creative person. I’m more of a technician, an engineer-type. I think I’m more interested in the theory of architecture and place–urban-planning, maybe–than in the actual creative process of design.

I am not an artist.

In college, I spent a lot of time with artists, brilliant people who made me feel brilliant just by being around them. Those were golden times.

I started writing music over ten years ago. I’ve written a few pretty good songs, but nothing awesome. I’ve made a half dozen recordings, but nothing I’m very proud of.

Three times in the past ten years, I’ve considered that my “music career” was officially over. One of them was when I moved to Cincinnati.

I was never supposed to stay in Cincinnati. I was going to live here for two years while my boyfriend finished art school and then we were going to go live out our bohemian fantasy on the road or on the trail or out of the country doing something creative and wonderful. That dream ended 8 years ago.

When I met my husband, about six months later, he made me love this city. And, no matter how long we’re here, this city will always be a part of what made me fall in love with him.