I hate your face, ISFJ: you must be plotting something.

All right, I don't really hate your face. Not because of any deep bond between us- what's a deep bond without an untapped vein of loathing- but because you are so sensitive and reserved. So understanding. So poised. So deft. So tactful. So full of aplomb. You must be up to something.

It's like hanging out with the sister from a girl adventure book. Not Laura, Mary. Not Jo, Beth. Not Elizabeth, Jane. No wonder their sisters went and wrote edifying quasi-fiction. You drove them to it, what with the yamato nadeshiko thing.