Astrology, Personality Tests & Deciding If That Girl Is Right For You

Don’t look to the stars for love advice; look on the internet

Time To Read: 9 mins | June 18, 2017

Several years ago I had a proper Hollywood manager. In case she’s reading this, she was definitely very diligent and never screwed up any business for me at all.

A friend of mine set up our first meeting, during which I was vaguely instructed to impress her so that she’d agree to represent me. I didn’t know he was sending me on a fool’s errand – after I told him it’d gone well and she was on board, he expressed genuine surprise that she’d signed me.

“Never underestimate my charm,” I replied. And after he finished punching me in the arm, he explained that she’s actually a well-known and respected rep, and he never really thought someone at her level would take the time for a guy whose biggest life accomplishment is looking good while dirty and starving.

That riddle would be answered shortly after. As fate would have it, my former manager is a Taurus, like I am, and she took our matching signs to mean that she should represent me.


Not a word of lie. Welcome to Hollywood.

Surprisingly, it turns out that being born in the same month as someone doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to work well together. She was beyond gung-ho on the astrology – I could barely ever get her on the phone to discuss a contract, but once spent 40-minutes listening to her describe the alignment of the planets at the moment of my birth. I think that’s what she was talking about, anyway. Might have dozed off half-way through

In case you’ve not caught my tone yet, I white girl just can’t with the zodiac stuff. Sure, if I’m having trouble sleeping at night, I’ll read Buzzfeed’s “What Your Zodiac Sign Says About Your Future Pet’s Sexuality!” (Roscoe the terrier is going to have some bicurious feelings that I, as a good owner, will need to accept). But to actually put stock in star signs and birth dates and whatever the shit Mercury’s doing is beyond me, and those who rely on this nonsense to make actual life decisions are to be kept at arm’s length.

Now, fortunately, a new love interest of mine hasn’t yet brought up our astrological signs. She may not believe in it, or she may just be clever enough to have realized it’d send me running for the hills. Honestly, points to her either way.

But because it’s new and we’re living in different hemispheres, the process of getting to know one another is stunted, and as such alternative means to gauging our compatibility are being employed. Spotify playlists come in handy here. Also, taste in memes. While we may not always see eye-to-eye on music or humor, I’ve at least convinced her that 9gag is the devil. So there’s that.

Then one of us, I don’t remember who, had the bright idea to turn things up a notch and compare Myers-Briggs Types. That’s a personality measure based on the work of Carl Jung, a very prominent and very dead psychologist. It classifies everyone into one of 16 personality types, based on four binary categories: are you extroverted or introverted? Sensing or intuitive? Thinker or feeler? Judger or perceiver?

That’s a really crap breakdown — if you’re interested, here’s a quick read that explains Myers-Briggs briefly and adequately. You can find a dozen of these tests for free online, then read about your results on a hundred other sites. It’s a respected personality test that’s pretty accurate and specific without being overwhelming to take. Have fun.

I have known for years that I’m an INTP. That’s Introverted, iNtuition, Thinking, and Perception. You can Google that acronym if you want to do some casual roundabout stalking, but for our purposes, suffice to say I’m an introvert who likes working alone, I daydream too much, hate everything not logical and can’t put up with shit that isn’t so. Which, thinking about it now, completely explains my opinion towards astrology.

This new girl, meanwhile, is an ENFP. Again, stalk away if you’d like, but my one sentence half-informed summation would be the extroverted life-of-the-party charmer type, free spirit, emotional and hyper-sensitive.

I’m sure the two of us could have done a deep dive into our Myers-Briggs compatibility on a dozen different websites, but we found one sentence in one article that said it would work and so decided to stop reading. Hashtag blinders.

The real sticking point of this story, though, is this website. I’d never seen it before, and if you are going to spend some time reading about different personality types, it does a great job of casually & colorfully explaining each in detail – along with providing cutesy pictures.

For example, here’s the headliner picture for the ENFP type:

Look at these guys. They’re marching in the woods, exploring the great unknown, just the coolest dudes on the planet. Who wouldn’t want to be these badass chipper adventurers?

That’s the girl’s. It’s the first picture I saw so I, excited to see what awesome graphic went along with my personality, went to the INTP page:

Just… just give me a moment.

I know I’m a nerd. I know. I’ve known all my life. But like, you look at the picture of the ENFP Lewis & Clarks and think “Hell yea!” You look at the picture of my INTP Big Bang Theory character and think, “I wonder if I can wedgie them before 3rd period?”

It threw me for a moment, my avatar, and I let my shoulders slump. But only a second – look at the rest of my lab. It’s like the artist who drew this knew they needed to make INTPs feel better about ourselves, so we’re not working in some boring corporate pharma lab. There’s a tiny dog with a knife. There’s a plant trying to eat a man. A robot is dunking a cat in a chemical tank.


I am a mad scientist. That, fam, I can live with.

I pointed the graphics out to ENFP girl and we spent several minutes cracking up at the images of ourselves, her obviously fine being portrayed as Link from the Zelda series, and me slowly accepting my role as a supervillian.

All was fun and games until she, inevitably, checked the “Romantic Relationships” page for my personality type. Then all that compatibility talk went out the window as she found this image, illustrating the occasional weakness of INTPs attention to a partner:

That’s me on the ground, staring at my half-completed purple robot. Ignore my extremely suggestive pose for the moment, and check the date on the calendar: that, men, is Valentine’s Day. Which explains why my Tony Stark-looking boyfriend, who has bought me flowers, is clearly upset that I care more about building a super suit than our dinner reservations.

Guess who my new love interest identified with immediately?

I didn’t even deny it. Who can think about chocolates and roses while Iron Man is missing his legs? This is me to a T, unfortunately, which I calmly explained I will work on being better about in the future.

But at that moment, I needed to sign off and write this story down while it was fresh. So after reassuring her that picture will never be us, I had to tell my girl that I needed to let her go. When she asked why, I responded with the line that will now and forever be what I refer to my writing process as:

“I’m building robots.”


photo: cannons aiming over the atlantic in essaouira, morocco

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Malcolm Freberg
Malcolm Freberg
American writer living permanently on the road. Believes rye whiskey is superior to bourbon, Belle is the best Disney princess, and that selfie sticks should be snapped in half on sight. Hosted a travel documentary for AOL & played Survivor a few times.

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