That happened to me on the first day of my house-hunting trip in the South:
1. I met a chinese landlord named "He-man"
2. I learned that "Buena Vista" is pronounced "Byoona vista,"
3. And that Tortoiseshell cats are very rare here
4. And that Gelato is sold here
5. A lovely old lady informed me that Ernie Shore, who "played for the White Sox or the Red Sox or some such team up north" (It was the Red Sox) once lived here.
6. A younger woman hit on me
7. I noticed that Southerners immediately made a point of remembering my name and addressing me by it. It was nice.
8. I bumped into Maya Angelou on the street. (Ha, I wish! But I'm keeping my eyes out for her)
9. I found out that my host (a senior colleague) is also an INFJ
10. I may have found an apartment (I'm still not sure so I haven't signed anything just yet). A gorgeous one, in a Queen Anne style house, with high ceilings, hardwood floors, porch, deck, leaded glass windows, working fireplace, and central air. Yay!
3 comments:
Holy shit. I am ALSO an INFJ. And I am jealous of your apartment, but very glad things seem nice there. The apartment, the younger woman, the gelato? Too perfect!
#1 is a riot! :-)
#6 is very cool! Was she cute?
#10 sounds fab!!!
What's an INFJ?
C: Holy shit indeed. Did you know we make up 2% of the general population? And also that we are best suited to careers as writers or as English professors. So I'm guessing we make up a much higher percentage of that cohort (the English profs and writers one).
P: INFJ comes from the Myers Briggs personality test. It stands for "Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging." Check it out here: http://www.myersbriggs.org
As for 6 and 10, "meh." 10, the apartment, had a too-small kitchen, bedroom stuck between the kitchen and living room (shotgun style), crappy bathroom, and the landlord insisted on a July 1 lease. So I had to (sigh) say no. Instead I found one across the street, enormous, hardwoods, fireplace, brand new kitchen and bathroom. Only 1 set back-- odd ugly paneling in the front hall and stairwell that I'm not allowed to paint. I'll figure something out though.
As for #6, at first I thought she was just being super nice, like all the Southerners I'd met that day until she insisted on giving me her number in a kind of butch way.
No men hit on me, though. Oh well.
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