Birth order. It’s like a horoscope only…not.

A few years ago I picked up a copy of The New Birth Order Book in an attempt to better understand the dynamics of my relationship with my siblings. We’re kind of a special case, with a 6 year gap between batches we were raised in different eras by entirely different parents. They were the same humans, but they’d changed considerably between 24 (when they had Jennifer) and 32 (when they had me). If you’re around my age, think about that for a second. Think about who you were at 24 and who you are now. Do you think your 24 year old self and your 32 year old self would recognize each other on the street? Mine sure as hell wouldn’t.

Me? I’m the youngest. According to studies and stereotypes, I’m a whore for the limelight. I’m a clown and I’m irresponsible. Half true. The book says that in addition to being charming, outgoing, affectionate and uncomplicated (well aren’t you sweet!?!) I’m also rebellious, temperamental, spoiled, impetuous and impatient. Two out of three isn’t bad. This description from iVillage is about 80% on the money:

Last-Borns
Positives: Last-borns are the world’s cheerleaders. You have strong people skills and love to entertain and talk to others. You make friends easily and immediately make others feel at home. You’re an extrovert, energized by the presence of other people and you’re probably not afraid to take risks.

Negatives: Last-borns tend to get bored quickly. They have a strong fear of rejection and a short attention span. When the fun stops, they’ve had enough and want to check out. To some extent they’re self-centred. They may harbor unrealistic expectations of finding a relationship that is always fun - and of course, such relationships simply do not last.

They say the oldest child (in this case my sister with the deans list undergrad from Northwestern and the Masters in psychology from Pepperdine) is in danger of becoming a perfectionist. Nuh-uh! They’re also said to be confident and mature, and that they’re driven to making a difference. She is and she does.

We have two middle children, Kevin and Brian. Kevin was the good kid who wasn’t really good, he was just rarely caught in the act. He’s the stocky one, the teddy bear with a gentle unassuming heart. Brian was the quiet and mysterious one who walked on water until I was a teenager.

Again with that damn book. It says middle-born children have a wide range of personalities, and that they’re motivated by the fact that they have never been truly in the spotlight. I wonder if that’s why the boys feel the need to do shit that lands them in the ICU? The iVillage description says “their basic need is to keep life smooth and their motto might be ‘peace at any price’.” That’s Kev…I’ve never known anyone who loathes bickering as much as he does. It goes on to say “they’re usually very calm, will roll with the punches and are amiable, down-to-earth and great listeners.” True. True.

There are also studies that indicate that IQ is impacted by birth order, and that the later you arrive, the less intelligent you’re likely to be. I think The Man conducted that study. You know - the one that’s always oppressing me.

Which one are you?

I think I should organize a charity event with the above name.

Ronald Walken (born March 31, 1943), known professionally as Christopher Walken, is an American film, television, and theatre actor best known for playing menacing or psychologically damaged characters. He was born in Queens, New York to a German father and Scottish-born mother. Walken has been married to casting director Georgianne Walken since 1969.

source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Walken

At some point in the not-too-distant future, I’m going to have an all Walken weekend. I’m going to hole up with all his flicks, some naughty food bits I rarely allow myself and revel in his splendor. Yeah c’mon.

For some reason psychologists haven’t been able to pin-point, I actually enjoy abstract spam. This was waiting in my mailbox this morning and put a smile on my face. I’m sick, what can I say…the subject line is priceless.

Date: Thu, 22 Sep 2005 11:02:56 +0500
From: wilfredo manzano
To: Dylan Satunas
Cc: maigh@maigh.com
Subject: i hope you are doing okay. buttock
Forrest:

All the planets are lining up for meThis year I’m gonna have fun

Just watch me this yearJanuary (Nanana nanana nananaaana)
feteris feather-beds diginet zz03 flmouse cfwol

Leave it aloneKeep it worldTitle: She Brakes for Rainbows

It’s true, I do brake for rainbows.

If you liked that, you’ll love Spam Poetry.

I’d like to donate my uterus to science. I’m pretty sure it’s about to fall out anyway, and I’d just as soon see it go to good use.

As a result of visiting Intern Nick’s blog a while back and seeing his post on The World, I have come to the conclusion that someone should buy E2 for me. If you could go ahead and handle that, it would be great. Mmmmkay?

Ooh ooh ooh! Jammies with feet too, please! And a stretch of the red shag carpet of my youth so I can get all revved up and zap someone. Granted I live alone but when I’m expecting visitors I could throw them on and get supercharged. That would rule.

While you’re at it, could you work on world peace for me as well? Thanks.

Kissy boo!

~ Does vacuuming my hardwoods make me lazy or efficient and potentially demonstrate signs of intelligence?
~ I understand why moths fly towards light, but I don’t understand why they’re so spastic.
~ Since when do blisters reload themselves? I don’t remember this happening before.

For my baby boy seen below tormenting me at an early age…

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday darling Keeeeeevin,
Happy birthday to you!

If you aren’t dinking around with gTalk yet, doooo it. Friendlier than Skype (IMO) and groovy integration if you’re already playing with all the other Google toys anyway. Codie and I have enjoyed several conversations since the launch - crystal clear and gloriously free despite the fact that he’s in Madrid. Add the bonus of WiFi and he has the privilege of walking around the apartment with me, listening as I attempt to get ready for work while snort laughing. Oh, this is of course only if you’re not using one of those cute paperweight things…what do they call them again? Right - Macs.

Kissy boo!

At a one-time-only loss of what to say, I’ll give you an excerpt of an email I wrote to a friend summarizing the weekend.

It was an amazing emotional journey. There’s so much/too much I won’t ever be able to put into words…it was fulfilling and yet I’m reminded we’re not doing enough as a society about so many things. Reminded how we rush through our daily lives believing a sticker on a car or a plastic bracelet is an adequate contribution to the troubles that plague not only our generation, but those to come. So. Many. Emotions.

Every contribution makes a difference, even the stickers and the bracelets, I don’t want to discount them. I just know that personally, I can do more. Making the effort can be disruptive to our comfort, but if we don’t start now, if we don’t step things up right this minute, then when? Cancer, politics, the homeless, our environment, missing children…I could go on and on. There are so many causes that could use your energy and mine. Just my tangent for the morning from a soft spot in the core of my being, from my hippie love place that will never stop seeing the good or the potential for more kindness, more generosity, more affection and passion shamelessly given to others.

Kissy boo!