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July 12, 2006

Listen Up

Last night I received career counseling from a 25 year old PhD student. It took everything I had not to grab him by the shoulders and scream, “Have you even HAD a career?”

OK, granted, he’s studying counseling but I could have sworn that They wanted people to have life experiences before they counseled people. Was that something I heard in counseling? I have no idea.

So here’s the thing, I took the Strong Interest Inventory test and found out that I am an EAR. Yes, an ear. If right now you’re thinking, “Hey, that’s great! You might finally stop talking and start listening!” You suck. But if you’re thinking, “Oh! You’re Enterprising, Artistic, and Realistic.” You’re way smarter than most people I know.

Yes, I’m Enterprising, Artistic and Realistic – surprised? Anyone? I was. Realistic? Come on. You know me better than that.

Oh. Let me give you definitions.

Enterprising: The E type usually has leadership and speaking abilities, is interested in economics and politics and likes to be influential. The E type likes to work with people and ideas more than things.

Artistic: The A type usually has artistic skills, enjoys creating original work and has a good imagination. The A type usually enjoys working with ideas more than things.

Realistic: The R type usually has mechanical and athletic abilities, enjoys working outdoors and likes to work with tools and machines. The R type generally prefers to work with people or things more than ideas.

Reading these definitions can anyone gather why I’m so fucked up? I mean apparently I like to work with people and ideas more than things or is that just ideas more than things? Oh no, It’s people or things more than ideas. WTF?

Regardless the top career listed that I was told I should investigate (though Investigative wasn’t one of my stronger attributes so I’m not sure how I’m gonna work this out): Attorney. That actually makes sense to me – and I’m sure, to my parents. I can’t recall how many times I was told I should be a lawyer. Of course I thought it was a sarcastic response to my need to argue about everything. In fact, is Fucking Lawyer really a profession?

Sure, there were others. I could be a Technical Sales Representative, and Operations Manager, or a Top Executive. I think Top Executive is the job I’m going to apply for though. Who wouldn’t want to be a Top Executive?

OK, so maybe I sound like it wasn’t all that helpful, and believe it or not, 25 or not, it actually was. I mean, I learned a lot about my answers and my need to explain them to complete strangers. I also learned I could make friends easily with other confused, striving-to-define-themselves individuals. I also found that I can ask a potential counselor a lot more questions than he might be prepared to answer about himself during a workshop meant for me. Oh. And the other girl in the class. But mostly for me. Right? I mean….

Right, so I learned a lot. I learned I have to find out more. I learned that I answered this test more like flight attendants than Interior Designers. Though that can’t be right. But Ryan (the 25 year old PhD) said that just means I’d have more in common with Flight Attendants than Interior Designers. Does that mean I’m more likely to condescendingly ask you to remove your headphones during our conversation? Or will I simple have the need to pass out nuts everywhere I go?

All-in-all, it’s another good experience and I’m feeling the heady lightness of knowing I’m doing something about it all – even if I don’t find all the answers at once. I am also going to start asking 25 year olds everywhere what THEY are doing with their lives. Damn it.

July 11, 2006

The Ticking Clock

My vagina has an egg timer. I'm not sure how it gets set and I'm not sure the sound it makes (exactly), but I know it goes off - and not always in the good way.

If the buzzer were to indicate something positive, I think this could be a useful trick. You know, like my orgasm is ready or it’s time to put the penis in. But I think much like me, my vagina gets bored and the buzzing is really all about needing some excitement before it gets turned off.

I suppose my vagina is fickle. One minute it’s all happy and in love with being a vagina and then all of a sudden it’s angry and pissed off that it’s JUST a vagina. And then dissatisfaction sets in. And then it’s a downhill race of complaints. Like the discontent about being a little bit of an outie vagina. Or that it’s not getting enough attention or adoration or conversation. Or maybe that it hasn’t won awards. You know, public awards. OK, fine. I might as well blatantly state that my vagina is a euphemism for my entire person. It's just a lot more fun to say vagina repeatedly.

My point is really about being itchy. And no, this time I’m not talking about my vagina. It’s just that I want to explore. I want to learn. I want to find my thing, my purpose, my passion. I want to get to know more about everything I possibly can and life seems to have a nasty habit of getting in the way of that. Or at least, the practical side of my brain gets in the way. So maybe I have this awful habit of getting in my way. Shit.

I hate to admit that I might just get interested enough in things not to do anything about it. It’s like the egg timer is really set to distract me from finishing anything. Or to remind me time keeps passing by and I haven’t done anything yet. I’d like to think it’s boredom that keeps me wandering, but if I had to answer honestly, I know that’s not what it is. I just use the egg timer as a good excuse for not figuring it out.

I guess it’s time to turn my vagina on and enjoy the ticking of the clock. There are no overcooked eggs to worry about – there’s just me and my vagina on a life adventure trying to figure it out together. And you know what? It really doesn’t get better than that.