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teaweed's Journal

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  • teaweed@livejournal.com
Once upon a time, a mentor suggested I develop a One-Minute-Me to use in interviews. I didn't and I still suck at self-promotion. I want to become more socially competent, so here I am, in a safely remote forum, looking to practice my seduction skills.

I'm the eldest of three kids and my parents are divorced. I was raised mostly on the West coast. I moved to Texas for no good reason (At loose ends in California, friends in Dallas, Texas said, 'why don't you move?' so I did.) I am an introvert, an underachiever, and hopefully, a late bloomer.

I love plants. They are placid while striving. If I were to adopt a personal totem, I'd want it to be a weed in a crack--easily abused and vulnerable to dry heat, but bright green with optimism, putting on flowers and persistently pushing against it's confinement.

I love bluegrass and gypsy violin. It makes me feel achy in a good way. It's evocative of how my insides feel sometimes: lonesome, pathetic and angsty. It's transcendental beauty leaves out my mundane boredoms and trivial complaints.

I love sex. It's both inquisitively experimental and comforting. It makes me feel enthusiastic and optimistic about the rest of my life. It validates me as a person and a woman. It is an oasis in my own reserve, where I express affection otherwise kept subterranean.

I love learning about how things work. Replacing ignorance with revelation is exciting. Psychology, politics, physiology, meteorology, mechanics, liguistics, et cetera all contribute to a sense of the universe as a trustworthy place and diminish my fearful inclination toward superstition.

I care passionately about honesty, functionality, comfort and efficiency. I believe these are intertwined virtues.

I hate thoughtlessness. It seems to manifest in controversy, reactionism and indignation. It's rife in consumerism. Procrastination, white-to-gray lies, petty theft, and whining are all rampant in the absence of conscientious thought.

Now, my fellow LiveJournalers, I've told you a little bit about myself. I wonder whether who I am matters. I wonder if Dale Carnegie's advice about winning friends and influencing people will do me any good here. I wonder if social success must include some of the insensitivity I remember from grade and high school.