We’re going to change all that tonight.
I had an opportunity recently to take a Rorschach test. Fortunately, part of the test was not knowing how to spell “Rorschach” because that is the hardest word to spell since, well, ever. And, yes, I know it is a name. That doesn’t make it better.
I’m going to run you through what I saw in the ink blots. I know. I’m not sure we’re ready either, but I haven’t manicured any rodents this week, so we’re going to have to go with it because I don’t have anything else to write about.
Now, I’ve taken the liberty of including a link to the Wikipedia page for the Rorschach test, so you can find out what you were SUPPOSED to see. (No, they aren’t all penises, you sickos.)
I suggest you wait until after you guess to see if you were correct. That’s how it works, right? You correctly identify enough moths in the ink blots and you get a piece of paper stamped “MENTALLY STABLE”? Because mine hasn’t come yet, but sometimes the mail runs slow.
For those of you out there who are either real psychologists or armchair psychologists, let’s not try too hard to get to the depths of Stimey and the inner recesses of her brain. No one wants that. Like, if my answers make it clear that I have repressed memories of a Godzilla rampage in my youth, I don’t need to know.
Well. THAT I need to know—frankly, THAT the world needs to know—but you get the gist.
So, sit down, buckle up, and welcome to my mind.
Inkblot one: Clearly this one is a movie poster. I mean, isn’t this the image movie producers regularly use to freak people out when they walk past the movie theaters?
Here’s the thing though. This was card number one and I didn’t want to come off as a crazy person, so instead of telling the tester that, I honed in on those little pinchy things at the top middle (imagine me making “pinchy claw” gestures with my hands in the psychologist’s office at this point) and told her that it was a beetle…with wings…wearing a dress.
See? NOT a crazy person.
Inkblot two: I didn’t see a damn thing in this one, so I spent several seconds desperately trying to see something before I finally said, “That void in the middle looks like an airplane.” I think I might have said that the top red parts looked like faces as well. I’d also like to point out that the red blotch at the bottom looks like a moth. We’re two for two for creepy flying insects here, people.
Inkblot three: This one was my favorite. Look at those adorable snooty men having drinks. Don’t you love them? You can tell they are snooty because of their pointy noses and fancy high heeled shoes. You can also tell that they are wearing tuxedos because all snooty, high heeled shoe-wearing men in my brain wear tuxes.
Inkblot four: So Godzilla is standing in front of you, and maybe a little bit above you somehow. See his little claw hands? (Me: “pinchy claw” gestures again) See his tiny little head with his tiny little snout waaaaaay up there in the sky? See my father issues laid completely bare?
Inkblot five: Really? Another moth?
Oooh! Speaking of insects, remind me to tell you about the praying mantis egg case I bought. Theoretically it could hatch 75-200 tiny manti. (I prefer to pluralize words like this with an “i.” Figure that out, Mrs. Psychologist.)
Anyway, the manti hatching is going to be fucking terrible—especially after the dozens of tiny manti turn into dozens of large manti. I’ll be spending the summer inside, thank you very much.
Although, frankly, it is likely that I will kill them in infancy, so I probably shouldn’t worry too much.
Inkblot six: I stared at this one for a long time before I censored my original thoughts to say that this was a cat that was squished flat. I’m not sure that was better. But, I’m sorry, if you try to tell me that this cat is not flattened, YOU are the one who is disturbed.
What I really wanted to say is that I saw Bill the Cat here. You see it too, don’t you? And if it IS Bill the Cat, it kind of makes more sense that he’s flat right?
Inkblot seven: This one is SO CLEARLY angry bunny rabbits. See their ears and their little open mouths? They are shouting at each other. I told the psychologist that and then I said, “They’re hoppin’ mad!” and laughed and laughed and laughed. The psychologist paused, looked at me, gave me a little courtesy laugh, and then she wrote something down on her piece of paper.
I’m pretty sure she was writing down “MENTALLY STABLE.”
Inkblot eight: At first I was all, “Color?! I don’t know what to do with this!” and then I was all, “Look at those adorable little badgers on the outside.” Then I told the psychologist that the inside parts looked like a skeleton. I refrained from saying, “Honey badger don’t care. Honey badger don’t give a shit.”
But I really, really wanted to.
Inkblot nine: I just now, right this very moment, saw the orange seahorses here. Damn, I wish I’d seen that before, because I really saw nothing in this. I was going to tell the psychologist that I saw an inkblot, but that seemed like the kind of smart ass response that gets you a demerit on your psychological report.
God knows I don’t need any more of those.
Frankly, I don’t even remember what I told her. Maybe I said that it looked like a map of Europe. No, really. I think that is what I said. Because that makes sense.
Inkblot ten: Bugs. Lots of bugs. There are caterpillars and grasshoppers and terrifying blue spiders. Oh dear lord, there are 158 praying manti in there too.
Also the Eiffel Tower.
So that’s it. If you’re still with me, you are either with me for the long haul or you are slowly backing away while trying to get your car keys out of your pocket.
Now you have my subconscious as well as my conscious. Don’t say I never did anything for you. Please feel free to inadvertently share some deep secret pocket of your mind in the comments to level our playing field if you so desire.
I have a few other things as well—things that are less disturbing than the interior of my brain.
1. Thank you to Joey and Andy for your donation to the Cheetahs. Thank you all!
2. Have you ever hosted a playdate? Then you might be familiar with the Playdate Timeline that I wrote about over at White Knuckle Parenting.
3. Jack and I went to see a sensory friendly performance at the Kennedy Center last week and then I wrote about it at Autism Unexpected.