Girls will sometimes play this game — pick out your character from Sex and the City (and hardly anyone ever wants to be the Miranda of the group). Or we like to answer those quizzes that are on facebook — “Which ____ are you?” — just for kicks. Maybe it’s like a hard-wired longing for us to be recognized.
How often do we play those games and guffaw at how the results nailed our personality? It’s like reading the character descriptions on the Chinese Zodiac or your astrological sign. Nails it! I am a total strong-willed, self-controlled, self-confident, blah blah blah Leo. My perfect mate is an Aries (which, btw, woah). And then how often do we immediately discredit the result in some way because we don’t want to be pigeon-holed as just one type of person? This is the riddle of our being. To be known and celebrated, and yet so private. To be understood, and yet completely mysterious. (This is why Stan and I have decided Bella, from Twilight, is so popular and such a coveted character. She has the best of both worlds, and all she has to do is stutter and blink her eyes a million times in one frame! Ugh, lame! But Stephenie Meyer must be pure genius.)