Friday, February 28, 2014

The Proper Care and Feeding of the Sarah

Speaking of personality tests (tangentially related to the Ok Cupid thing), have you ever taken a Myers-Briggs inventory?
There's a free mini-version of it here.
Go! Take it! Tell me what you are!
Seriously, please tell me. I'm curious.

This is going to sound like an overstatement but I mean it as sincerely as possible, without exaggeration or agenda:  I think I gained more insight to myself from reading the results of this test than from virtually any other 15 minutes I've spent on anything in the last 5 years.
(Yes, even more than the "Which Muppet Are You" quiz. Albeit narrowly.)

If you ever need a spot-on instruction manual for what makes me tick, this is a better description than what I could have ever written for myself:

by Marina Margaret Heiss and Joe Butt

"INFJs are distinguished by both their complexity of character and the unusual range and depth of their talents. Strongly humanitarian in outlook, INFJs tend to be idealists, and because of their preference for closure and completion, they are generally "doers" as well as dreamers. This rare combination of vision and practicality often results in INFJs taking a disproportionate amount of responsibility in the various causes to which so many of them seem to be drawn.

"INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people. On the contrary, INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates." While instinctively courting the personal and organizational demands continually made upon them by others, at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood -- particularly by those who have little experience with this rare type.

"Due in part to the unique perspective produced by this alternation between detachment and involvement in the lives of the people around them, INFJs may well have the clearest insights of all the types into the motivations of others, for good and for evil. The most important contributing factor to this uncanny gift, however, are the empathic abilities which seem to be especially heightened in the INFJ type (possibly because it is coupled with introversion).
This empathy can serve as a classic example of the two-edged nature of certain INFJ talents, as it can be strong enough to cause discomfort or pain in negative or stressful situations. More explicit inner conflicts are also not uncommon in INFJs; it is possible to speculate that the causes for some of these may lie in the specific combinations of preferences which define this complex type. For instance, there can sometimes be a "tug-of-war" between vision and idealism (NF) and practicality (J) that urges compromise for the sake of achieving the highest priority goals. And although they have enhanced self-awareness, their introversion may make it difficult for INFJs to articulate their deepest and most convoluted feelings.

"Usually self-expression comes more easily to INFJs on paper, as they tend to have strong writing skills. Since in addition they often possess a strong personal charisma, INFJs are generally well-suited to the "inspirational" professions such as teaching (especially in higher education) and religious leadership. Psychology and counseling are other obvious choices, but overall, INFJs can be exceptionally difficult to pigeonhole by their career paths. Perhaps the best example of this occurs in the technical fields. Many INFJs perceive themselves at a disadvantage when dealing with the mystique and formality of "hard logic", and in academic terms this may cause a tendency to gravitate towards the liberal arts rather than the sciences. However, the significant minority of INFJs who do pursue studies and careers in the latter areas tend to be successful, as their intuition helps provide the ability to understand abstract theory and implement it creatively.

"In their own way, INFJs are just as much "systems builders" as are INTJs; the difference lies in that most INFJ "systems" are founded on human beings and human values, rather than information and technology. Their systems may for these reasons be conceptually blurrier than analogous NT systems, harder to measure in strict numerical terms, and easier to take for granted -- yet it is these same underlying reasons which make the resulting contributions to society so vital and profound.

"Beneath the quiet exterior, INFJs hold deep convictions about the weightier matters of life. Those who are activists - INFJs gravitate toward such a role - are there for the cause, not for personal glory or political power.

"INFJs are champions of the oppressed and downtrodden. They often are found in the wake of an emergency, rescuing those who are in acute distress. INFJs may fantasize about getting revenge on those who victimize the defenseless. The concept of 'poetic justice' is appealing to the INFJ.

"Accurately suspicious about others' motives, INFJs are not easily led. These are the people that you can rarely fool any of the time. Though affable and sympathetic to most, INFJs are selective about their friends. Such a friendship is a symbiotic bond that transcends mere words.
INFJs have a knack for fluency in language and facility in communication. In addition, nonverbal sensitivity enables the INFJ to know and be known by others intimately."
 

Monday, February 24, 2014

Yes or No? No, No, Yes?


Currently, I'm applying for fellowship programs in Oculoplastics. I'm a little past the halfway point of the interview season, and can't help thinking how much it feels like a surreal series of first dates. Behold:
 - I'm interested in them. They're interested in me.
 - We arrange a place and time to meet.
 - I dress up and try to smell nice.
 - We have conversations with varying degrees of awkwardness.
 - They gaze at me intensely.
 - They buy me lunch.
 - I wonder what they think of me.
 - I proceed to wonder if we'd be compatible and happy together. Are they The One?
 - I go home hoping they will ask me out again.  Or, more accurately, hoping they will ask me to move to their town and spend 70 hours a week with them for two solid years.

So, while I was thinking about the weird parallel to dating, a segment came on NPR about analysts who look for useful correlations within massive data sets. They talked to a guy who used to crunch data for an online dating site called Ok Cupid. Apparently, Ok Cupid gives each user a huge personality quiz when the user first registers with the website, then feeds their responses into an algorithm that matches them with compatible users.

According to the analyst, one interesting finding that shook out from the Ok Cupid data was that a couple is a whopping 8 times more likely to be compatible if they both gave the same responses to the following three questions. (It doesn't matter whether their answers are yes or no, it just matters that they both answer all three questions the same way as each other):

1.  Would you ever leave it all behind and go live on a boat instead?
 
2. Do you like horror movies?
 
3. Have you ever traveled abroad alone?


For my remaining fellowship interviews, I wonder if we could just skip the small talk about research and clinical skills in order to just cut to the chase about the important stuff like how we feel about houseboats and slasher flicks. At the very least, it would make the interview conversations way more zesty.


 

Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Journal of Gambling Behavior

Early this morning I was right on track for a direct flight out to an interview in West Virginia, then the whole day was changed by a series of brief moments. 
First, I was waiting for a west-bound Red Line train to the airport. The train pulled in with a Red Line sign so I stepped on board with my luggage in tow, but then realized its listed destination was the east-bound endpoint. In a split second of panic, I realized I was on the wrong train, hit the “door open” button, and stepped off before it pulled out of the station. Whew! But standing on the platform, I then watched with horror as the train headed west after all. It had been the right train, just with the wrong sign, and I had managed to miss it.  A split second.
After a nail-biting 30 minute wait for the next west-bound Red Line train, and an inconceivably slow ride to the airport, I jumped off the train as soon as its doors opened and literally ran to the US Airways counter, reaching it at 9:12am which would give me just enough time to clear security and catch my plane. Whew! But they informed me that the cut-off time for check-in was 9:09 am, so they could not give me a boarding pass for the flight.  3 minutes.

The desk agent searched far and wide within her system then issued me standby tickets for a convoluted series of flights that, with a bit of luck, would get me there eventually. She also told me “Off the record, if you happened to run, and happened to reach the gate on time for your original flight, they might happen to let you on, even though I can’t issue you tickets for it.” I ran. More accurately, I sprinted. I arrived to gate C16 out of breath and frazzled at the very moment that the gate agent clicked the jetway door closed. 60 seconds earlier and they would have smiled me through an open door. I was looking through a window at the plane I should be on. All they had to do was turn a doorknob to let me through onto that plane. Nope. All door closures are final.  1 minute.


Why is it that narrowly missing something is so much more agonizing than missing it by a long shot? Regardless of whether I missed it by seconds or missed it by hours, the flight is equally missed, so why did the near miss feel so different; so compelling? 
And why is it that in the wake of a near miss, my next instinct was to look for the Hand of Fate, the deeper significance, the Grand Planned Reason why things went how they did?


Gwyneth Paltrow, for whom the alternate realities of life
hinge on missing vs catching a subway train.
In one reality, she finds her soul mate and exquisite happiness,
while in the other she ends up with a flattering haircut.

I should specify: I do not expect a soul mate or a good haircut to result from this morning's chain of events. My point is that the near miss triggered a reflexive search for meaning that a far miss wouldn't have. As all lost souls tend to do on a quest for meaning, I did a Google search.  (Full disclosure: I searched for "the psychology of near misses," not for "the meaning of life and love and good haircuts." I promise.)

Here's the gem it came up with. It's not exactly on target for my situation, but it's a fabulously good read! I recommend you ditch this blog post and go read the article instead. Highlights:
 - It's from the Journal of Gambling Behavior.  That exists? Yes, that exists.
 - In the short term, near misses (of the nearly-won variety, not the nearly-lost variety) tend to lure people into gambling longer and spending more.
 - In the long term, a person who experiences near miss after near miss stops feeling as stimulated by it. Instead, cognitive restructuring occurs, such that they stop expecting that a near-win this time is any prediction of an actual win next time. This element of it fascinates me. By extension outside the gambling realm, does it mean that exposing people to a long series of near-wins without a real win can extinguish their sense of hope? Conversely, would exposing someone to a long series of near-losses without a real loss extinguish their fear of failure? Can this be leveraged to make the timid more brave?

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Winter Crimes

Oh my gosh! Yukigassen! The Winter Olympics need this event!
 

It's organized snowball fighting, set up as a 7-against-7 sport that's a combination between Dodgeball and Capture the Flag, made all the more awesome by several features:

 - The snowballs are pre-made before the competition starts. They require very precise, spherical, perfectly-sized snowballs; 90 for each team to use per minute. That means somewhere, someone gets paid for designing the snowball-making equipment, declaring what constitutes a "valid snowball," and guarding the secrets of artisan snowballery passed down through the ages. I clearly chose the wrong career.



 - They have World Championships. Just picture 100 teams of hardened ultra-athletes traveling to Japan every year during the Sapporo Snow Festival to put on matching thermal jumpsuits and chuck snowballs for glory! Sapporo is home of snowstorms heavy enough to bury people. Based on the ad campaign, it's also apparently the home of a species of smiling mythical flying anime snowmen. Everyone needs more of those in their lives.


- Throwing snowballs is a wild, primal, and possibly criminal activity.  In parts of Colorado and Kansas, snowballs are considered to be a type of missile and are thus illegal. That means that if you feel the need to live on the edge, having a snowball fight in Topeka can make you an outlaw. Training there for Yukigassen would be like living as Bonnie & Clyde. Exciting, right? 

Friday, February 7, 2014

Sounds from Within the Asylum Walls

Prepare to live vicariously through me, experiencing all the glamour of a visit back to Arizona to see my parents!
 
Upon arriving last Saturday evening, I realized the saying "You can never go home" has never been more true. What used to be my bedroom has become a combination office, sewing room, tool storage area, and the place where an odd assortment of funky furniture goes to die. My luxury sleeping accommodations involved an army surplus stretcher on the floor. As an added touch, they upgraded the room to 5-star by removing the cat's litter box. 
 
 
On Sunday morning, I woke up to the sound of my mom's voice outside my door saying "Sarah, do you know how to work your sister's boom box? I want it to play a song again."
My sister, Beth, used to have a boom box. A legitimate gigantic gray plastic boom box with a double cassette tape deck and probably some Depeche Mode stickers, last seen circa 1989. It was her pride and joy...25 years ago.
I was confused. I was pretty sure that boom box was long gone, maybe ritualistically burned in a shrine to Flock of Seagulls or something. I went out to inspect the alleged boom box and found this:  
Beth's iPhone hooked up to a little portable speaker playing a stream of Johnny Cash songs.
I explained the evolution from the boom box to the newfangled invention of the cell phone, and welcomed my mom to the 21st century.
A few minutes later, the phone's alarm clock went off. Mom jumped.
"Sarah! There's an alarm clock ringing! I think it's coming from inside that record player!"
Sigh. One step forward, two steps back. Maybe I should have tried welcoming her to the 20th century instead. 
 

Meanwhile...

I can't even begin to explain this.
I know it's made from the hood of a car,
a piece of lumber painted orange,
the rubber foot nubbin from the bottom of a cane,
a stainless steel turnbuckle,
and a very long single piece of blue twine.
I know my dad thinks it's world's greatest home-made musical instrument.
What I don't know is why.