INFJ: The incredibly dramatic portrait of on who takes excessive personality assessments.

So, I was reading the internet, as on is wont to do, and I saw an essay about why one might draw the conclusion that Bendict Cumberbatch is an INFJ.  "Oh, (expletive)", thought I, "That would be my personality type as well.  And it is the rarest of all types.  Celebratory activities are now necessary."  So all the self-proclaimed Cumberbitches can suck it, because there's only a 1-3% chance that they fall into the same category.  (I've been reading a ton of their stuff online, mostly because the degree to which they are obsessed is funny, in a horrifying sort of way.  But that's another post.)

The thing is, I am explained really, really well by that type.  Aside from the whole "linguistic competence" thing, which is clearly not my forte.  Just look!

http://personalityjunkie.com/the-infj/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INFJ

Introverted:  That's really not even a question.  It's not that I don't like people, it's that it's exhausting.

Intuition:  This is the one thing that I will ever actually admit to being good at.  I almost always know how everyone else is feeling, and it's almost always right.  I'm very good at picking up subtle energy shifts or expressions, if I may say so without sounding completely pretentious or New Age.  Almost nothing anyone does surprises me, because it's based on their emotional perspective.  Whether I act on the knowledge is an entirely different matter, because a lot of the time I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with it.  Or I don't want to further agitate the issue by acknowledging it, because I know it would only make me more upset to talk about something upsetting while I'm upset. So there.

Feeling:  I have no logical sense whatsoever.  Just ask any math teacher I've ever had.

Judgement:  This is where it falls apart a little bit, because I had an equal number of points for judgement and perception.  Mostly because I always plan ahead in extreme detail, but work better when I have a clear, quickly approaching deadline.  So that's whatever.

I know, it's terribly fun and interesting and all that.  Everyone in the world is riveted by my ever enlightening thought, and check my blog constantly.  Although I still get between 20 and 150 hits a day on my rant about Billy, so maybe that's not that much of a lie.  Unless one person reads it all the time, which is a little concerning.  On that note, anyone want me to write about anything?  Or anyone?  My rating scale, with examples?  I was planning to do something this month, where I would review a different book I've read every day, but then I realized that no one cares.  Anyway, "Screw You" and "The Problem with Popplers" are my two most read posts.  Should I be taking that as an indicator that people want to read about my harsh judgments and self-doubt, or that they're just astonished by my callousness and need to reference the posts for the police report?  Anyway.  There's no point here, which doesn't matter much because there never was, but if there's anything people would like me to address, feel free to leave a comment.

Oh, and if you want me to guess who you are based on your comment, let me know that, too!  I believe I have successfully identified three people who comment regularly, but I'm willing to give anyone a try!  Let's see how well I can identify a person based on their typing technique!  Only don't change it up to make me get it wrong, because that spoils the game.

TO SUMMARIZE:  Benedict Cumberbatch and I are probably soul mates, but I only admire him for his trans formative acting abilities so a relationship would never really work out.  Sorry, Benny.  I'm not good at talking to people or communicating effectively (as evidenced by this, right here, right now).  Tell me what you do or don't enjoy reading, because I'm shifting aimlessly and embrace brutally harsh criticism.  And there are certain people I can always identify when they comment, but due to the aforementioned communication issues, I haven't mentioned it to them.

And Billy Baker still sucks.