Personality Test Disorders

After spending an hour on line answering hundreds of questions about what makes me tick just so I could get a free peak at the eligible charmers awaiting me on a new dating site, all I got was a ten page personality profile. I've hit a new low; I wasn't just rejected by a date, I was rejected by the whole friggin site.

"We're very sorry, but we cannot provide our matching service to you at this time. Our matching service is intended for single people only." Mere seconds after I filled in the final circle of the seemingly endless battery of questions about my personality, that's the message that popped up on the screen of my laptop. In huge, bold letters. Instinctively, I jumped out of my seat (narrowly avoiding sending my panini flying across the room) and draped my body over the screen, lest one of the other ladies lunching at the Nordstrom Cafe see what a total loser was in their midst (as if that wasn't obvious -- I was the only lady lunching alone).

I'm such an idiot. I had considered the possibility that my answers in the Emotional Stability section would do me in, but it never occurred to me to lie about my marital status. Damn them for the trick question. Damn them for not telling me right away that "separated" was an incorrect response. I could have spent that hour doing something more constructive. Like playing solitaire.

Anyway, I was offered the ten page free personality profile, so I thought I'd check it out. Even an acutely self-aware person like me can benefit from a little scientific insight. My evaluation was broken down into five categories: Agreeableness, Openness, Emotional Stability, Conscientiousness, and Extroversion. The first thing I did was gather overwhelming evidence to forward to my husband's botox queen attorney that her sight unseen diagnosis of me as a narcissist was completely without merit. Right there, in the Agreeableness section, it said I am "empathetic and compassionate," even though I truly believe people should solve their own problems if they are able. Not a narcissistic bone in my body. Ha!

I skipped over the Openness section; for pete's sake, I write a daily blog and strip myself bare for all the world (the world being my universe of fifteen official followers and a few other anonymous fans) to see. It's a reality show without the live video, and trust me, nobody wants to see that! I'm willing to bet I scored pretty high on openness, although I did notice as I flipped past the section that, for people who like things to remain safe and familiar, my odd and wide open rants might cause some discomfort. Fuck 'em, I say. Let 'em squirm.

Much to my surprise and delight, despite what I thought were honest and therefore incriminating answers in the third section, I am, apparently, a paragon of emotional stability. I have "a rich emotional life;" okay, that's one way to look at it. I deal with whatever comes up in a manner which is "perceptive and flexible." I "seldom get in over my head" -- LOL -- and nowhere do the words "roller coaster" appear in my description. Here's my favorite: my outstanding coping mechanisms have turned me into "something of an emotional mentor!" Man, I'm good. I think I'm gonna have cards printed up.

I kind of liked the Conscientiousness section, because it put a nice spin on my inability to focus on anything for more than three seconds, and credited me with an admirable dose of spontaneity. Sure, I can buckle down if necessary (I think I may have stretched the truth a bit on those questions) but it's great that I can "let the spirit move me" off task on occasion. If, by "on occasion," they mean constantly, then I am the goddess of conscientiousness. What I have come to think of as a complete absence of focus is actually a delightful outlook on life to which others can aspire. Again, I am something of a mentor. I was beginning to see why the site rejected me -- too much competition for all the other gals to handle.

Finally, my extroversion. I am, according to my very sound, scientific personality profile, lots of fun to be around. I guess that means being a manic depressive, whining, crying bitch is more of a good thing than I had realized. I'm inspired by all the positive feedback, so I'm going to redo the questionnaire -- with a new email address so they don't recognize me -- and fill in the "divorced" circle so I can gain admission to the new dating site. I am apparently quite the catch, and what's wrong with a little white lie if I can make so many men so happy.