CzeCze
RETIRED
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- Sep 11, 2007
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- 8,975
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Edit: I use the word "actually" WAY TOO MUCH.![]()
Me too.
Edit: I use the word "actually" WAY TOO MUCH.![]()
hahaha this episode is actually priceless! Did you actually managed to fall off the chair?I laughed so hard when I first saw this episode.... I cried with tears and actually collapsed on the floor beside my chair.
ISheldon.
I texted his wife today asking what he meant by the comment. Apparently he was trying to give me a compliment on that he thinks I am awesome, but then halfway through it wanted to give his ESTJ wife a compliment at the same time and pretty much botched the entire episode. We've suggested that he needs to just stick to physics.![]()
Sometimes it's not about a 'specific career path'. Look outside of 'career' when considering what things an INFP can offer the world. I personally think that many INTP's and INFP's have a gift for teaching, instructing, informing, offering fresh insight and perspective into the problems/situation of life - and insight/perspective into life itself. When I mention these things - like teaching for instance - I don't "necessarily" mean in a classroom or even in a group setting. Think about the 1-on-1 discussions you have with your friends and family members.
By understanding who you are and what traits you possess that are unique to this world, only then can you begin to look at careers that will enable you to use those traits. What career will enable you (or give you an avenue) to teach, instruct, inform, offer insight, offer perspective, etc? Writers are able to do those things through their writing. Counselors are able to do those things. Therapists. Speakers. Aquarium/shark tank tour guides can teach, educate, and inform people about the shark kingdom. These are all very real, practical, and tangible careers. People do these things every day and you too have access to these careers. Also remember, however, that your career - no matter which one you choose - will never FULLY encompass who you are. When you go home on the weekends or when you are with friends and family and even encounters with strangers - you are still able to teach, instruct, offer insight/perspective, etc.
Purpose = 24/7/365
Career = 9-to-5 or some other limited amount of hours.
Try to line up career with purpose so that they blend in nicely with who you are and what you enjoy doing.![]()
INFP's make great parents because they are so in touch with their children's feelings.
I have been told countless times in my life that I make people feel secure. I do absolutely nothing to engender this belief in others, they just have it. Something about me (us?) is calming to others. Perhaps ironic because some of the times I've been told I appear calm are the times when I am absolutely bricking it.
Nice to know!Oh, and I can vouch for life getting easier as we get older. It's as if we live life in reverse. We hit the mid-life and existential crises so early in life that by the time we survive to the 30s, anything else that can be thrown at us would seem like a piece of cake.
They make good trophies. Only the upper class can afford to own and maintain such an impractical thing as an INFP.
Very untrue when it comes to the underlying meaning. INFPs are usually much less materialistic than other types and would be happy growing in any environment that is just understanding of them(which even in primitive societies is possible), and are more likely to reject materialistic qualities and upper class comfort at the sake of others(which is usually the case with the upperclass).
Other than that, - 'ENFP' hey? Shouldn't you be somewhere trying your best to 'fit in' instead of creating a stir?
It was a playful joke on the premise that people have to be 'good for something' for someone to justify their existence. Everybody else seemed to get it.
Why don't you put a lid on that ENFP hate and save it for sometime where I truly mean to offend you.
EDIT: Okay... overreaction there, but I will leave it for posterity.
ENFP hate? nah, that's my INTP counterpart kicking in. Most my friends are usually ENFPs, other than that... are you supposed to 'get it' when I contradict something, you were totally trolling on, only to lead the joke to a sad position.... didn't think so.
If you ask my husband my best trait, he’ll smile and say, “She never gives up.†But if you ask him my worst trait, he’ll get a funny tic in his cheek, narrow his eyes and hiss, “She. Never. Gives. Up.â€
It took me a year and a half to write my earliest version of The Help. I’d told most of my friends and family what I was working on. Why not? We are compelled to talk about our passions. When I’d polished my story, I announced it was done and mailed it to a literary agent.
Six weeks later, I received a rejection letter from the agent, stating, “Story did not sustain my interest.†I was thrilled! I called my friends and told them I’d gotten my first rejection! Right away, I went back to editing. I was sure I could make the story tenser, more riveting, better.
A few months later, I sent it to a few more agents. And received a few more rejections. Well, more like 15. I was a little less giddy this time, but I kept my chin up. “Maybe the next book will be the one,†a friend said. Next book? I wasn’t about to move on to the next one just because of a few stupid letters. I wanted to write this book.
A year and a half later, I opened my 40th rejection: “There is no market for this kind of tiring writing.†That one finally made me cry. “You have so much resolve, Kathryn,†a friend said to me. “How do you keep yourself from feeling like this has been just a huge waste of your time?â€
That was a hard weekend. I spent it in pajamas, slothing around that racetrack of self-pity—you know the one, from sofa to chair to bed to refrigerator, starting over again on the sofa. But I couldn’t let go of The Help. Call it tenacity, call it resolve or call it what my husband calls it: stubbornness.
After rejection number 40, I started lying to my friends about what I did on the weekends. They were amazed by how many times a person could repaint her apartment. The truth was, I was embarrassed for my friends and family to know I was still working on the same story, the one nobody apparently wanted to read.
Sometimes I’d go to literary conferences, just to be around other writers trying to get published. I’d inevitably meet some successful writer who’d tell me, “Just keep at it. I received 14 rejections before I finally got an agent. Fourteen. How many have you gotten?â€
By rejection number 45, I was truly neurotic. It was all I could think about—revising the book, making it better, getting an agent, getting it published. I insisted on rewriting the last chapter an hour before I was due at the hospital to give birth to my daughter. I would not go to the hospital until I’d typed The End. I was still poring over my research in my hospital room when the nurse looked at me like I wasn’t human and said in a New Jersey accent, “Put the book down, you nut job—you’re crowning.â€
It got worse. I started lying to my husband. It was as if I were having an affair—with 10 black maids and a skinny white girl. After my daughter was born, I began sneaking off to hotels on the weekends to get in a few hours of writing. I’m off to the Poconos! Off on a girls’ weekend! I’d say. Meanwhile, I’d be at the Comfort Inn around the corner. It was an awful way to act, but—for God’s sake—I could not make myself give up.
In the end, I received 60 rejections forThe Help. But letter number 61 was the one that accepted me. After my five years of writing and three and a half years of rejection, an agent named Susan Ramer took pity on me. What if I had given up at 15? Or 40? Or even 60? Three weeks later, Susan sold The Help to Amy Einhorn Books.
The point is, I can’t tell you how to succeed. But I can tell you how not to: Give in to the shame of being rejected and put your manuscript—or painting, song, voice, dance moves, [insert passion here]—in the coffin that is your bedside drawer and close it for good. I guarantee you that it won’t take you anywhere. Or you could do what this writer did: Give in to your obsession instead.
And if your friends make fun of you for chasing your dream, remember—just lie.
I liked it all except maybe about the advice for lying.I am so bad at lying, I still wouldn't get away with it because I would feel guilty, twitching with the "tell-tale" heart of it all... until at some point he'd say "Hey honey can you pass the remote?" and I'd start sobbing about what a jerky miss mcjerkface I am.
In another note, I have started to think about writing!![]()