Admissions

First: I discovered something about myself last week. I like ventriloquists.

Each night all week on Letterman, there was a ventriloquism act. One of them left me yawning, but several of them really tickled me.

On Friday night, when Mr. Shineyhead came to pick up his dog, there was a ventroloquist who was using a *live* dog as his dummy. It was really weird. There was some kind of lash that was forcing the dog's mouth open as if it was a dummy. The whole thing was so dissonant that Mr. Shineyhead and I started debating about whether the dog was real or not. Turned out it was.

It was also most peculiar for me to interpret the ventriloquism act into American Sign Language. My TV is old and doesn't have closed captioning, so without my signing, Mr. Shineyhead was out of the loop.

But I couldn't quite figure out how to explain the concept of throwing one's voice to a Deaf person. It seems a simple enough concept, but there was a real gap between what I was able to explain and actually understanding why ventriloquism is even the least bit amusing.

I'm sure, however, that it's not just the Deaf who don't get ventriloquism. Even though funny ones make me laugh, there's something kind of freaky about it. Something that, as S2 might say, makes some people feel very uncomfortable in their body and start squirming.

...

Now, on a different topic, to S2 and Dr. M, I make the following statement:

Hi, my name is UCM, and I'm a high-maintenance-aholic.

Following such an admission, I would like to say that, in the best traditions of recontextualizing, reframing and embracing better narratives about ourselves, I see my "high-maintenance" habits as:

-- a well-defined sense of self

-- being discerning, particular and/or discriminating (take your pick)

-- a result of my rather refined tastes (or perhaps just my disdain for weak drinks and lemon confections).

So even though I admit a certain truth to what you both, individually, pointed out -- lovingly, as friends do -- in the past few days, I sincerely doubt this aspect of my character will change anytime soon. It's a good thing you both are discerning women yourselves. ;-)

...

And, finally: A personality assessment test I took tonight showed me as being highly social, very inclined toward the arts and, at odds with both of those when it comes to career direction, very practical and good with my hands. (I should say that 10 out of 10 women agree: I *am* good with my hands. But I don't quite think that's what the assessment results meant.)

Naturally, these results do *not* suggest I work as a counseling psychologist. Surprise, surprise.

Instead, the top careers for your dear UCM are the following:

- Fashion designer (this made me snort!)
- Paintings restorer
- Exhibit builder
- Optical-effects-camera-operator
- Screen printing inspector (anyone know what the hell that is?)
- Pewterer

Rather peculiar, I'd say, that NONE of my previous careers, nor anything I've envisioned doing in the future, are on this list. Hmmmm.

However, Teacher said that the broader meaning behind my personality traits (a socializing, artistic realist -- and high score for investigative careers, of which psychology is one) indicates that I could very well make a suitable counselor, but that I probably ought to do my counseling *outside* or in some kind of challenging environment that has very little to do with sitting in a quiet office in the same chair all day.

So, like, my idea of opening a retreat center down in the Amazon or some other challenging wilderness where people can leave their regular routines and focus on major life transitions is actually what I *ought* to be doing? I asked.

"That seems very suited to you," Teacher replied.

And then I had a little daydream about opening such a place with The Debutante. Only problem is that she wants troubled people for her clientele (and wants to make them harvest lettuce all day or something), and my idea would be marketed to rich city folk who want to put their Patagonia fashions to practical use while having their souls challenged Outward Bound-style (albeit with a comfortable bed).

There'd be some group therapy and some individual or couples therapy, probably with a major focus on narrative because "the story" is what my perspective is all about.

Then my wealthy, navel-gazing clients would eat a lovely organic salad made of lettuce picked by The Deb's clients. (Heh. Sustainable psychotherapy!) And each day could end with a sauna (or for the more spirtually inclined, a "sweat lodge") with eucalyptus water.

How about that? For once, one of my dreams might actually be something to which I'm suited. Far more suited, in any case, than working as a fashion designer.