Average Jane



I truly need a new pen (or, Why online surveys should die)

It’s noon on a Sunday. I’ve been up for hours (minus my newly implemented morning nap). My friends seem to have scattered for the weekend leaving me alone in my apartment, sans parents, which is surprisingly nice. I’m debating my course of action for the day when I decide to start “stumbling” around the internet.

I happen upon a website for some pen. This website offered a graphological analysis. At noon on a lazy Sunday, I could think of no better way to burn 10 minutes that with a cute little online survey.

Bad. Idea.

After I successfully completed the survey, which involves writing “I truly need a new pen” and answering questions about what your sample looks like, it was time for the results.

Dr. Gerard Ackerman (*puts money on his not-actual-doctorness*) comes on screen to tell me what my handwriting reveals. My breath was sufficiently bated. He was cheeky. Cracking jokes. Clearly he was not taking this analysis, “prepared specifically for me,” as seriously as I was. I mean, how often do you have a real live internet doctor tapping into your psyche?

The results:

I was elated to know that I am lively, vivacious and versatile… or moody, agitated, and unpredictable. So dead on.

I also live somewhere, am standing or sitting, and I eat food. (This was in response to my “medium” letter size which told Dr. Ackerman that I’m, well, average. See, Arjewtino? I told you so.)

In addition, my wide letter spacing says I’m expansive, uninhibited, gregarious, generous…. Oh, Dr. Do go on!

The doctor and I were making some headway, especially when he told me that my “I’s” told him that my parents weren’t a strong force in my life. Perhaps emotionally distant. Perhaps in Canada. And when he told me that my friends turn to me for help because I am so “matter of fact, efficient, and proficient.” Deep. So deep.

But then, on a Sunday afternoon, Dr. Ackerman crossed the line. He told me that my “y’s” have an unfinished bottom. “But Doctor? What could that possibly mean?!” He said it means that I am wishful, of course.

Oh, and that I have “unfulfilled sexual expectations.”

Well, NO SHIT, Doc! Jesus. I mean, did you have to be so blunt about it? Do you have to just tell the world? And then, to make matters worse, he tells me to “stop writing and get my freak on!” followed by a video montage of computer animated robots dancing erotically while really bad digital porn music plays in the background. So unprofessional!

Fine. Now everyone knows it. Well, anyone who had ever seen my handwriting. That means all my high school teachers, college professors, and coworkers already knew. For years! No wonder they looked at me with such pity. Or was it disgust? Good thing I text message rather than send handwritten notes by carrier pigeon, or all of my romantic conquests would know it, too.

<Funny anecdote> Out to dinner one night with my ex-BF and his mother, I sat there chewing on an ice cube. I apologized for the racket, to which she replied, “you know that’s a sign of sexual frustration.” GEEEZ PEOPLE! I should just get a stupid sandwich board. </Funny anecdote>

Gah. Well, thanks to Dr. Gerard Ackerman and the team at Tul Pens I can now sleep peacefully knowing that my handwriting is a perfect representation of who I am.

I’m going to go cry now.

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Comments

  1. * College Grad says:

    I like my analysis for the most part. My I’s say my mother has had a big influence in my life and my complete… “voluptuous?”… (a little scared)… y is amusing. Also, my small handwriting means I’m efficient? I guess that’s true. All-in-all, it was hilarious. I’m sorry the “Dr.” was not so nice to you. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, he’s a little weird, in like a mad scientist sort of way. And that voice… it’s impressively monotone. Yikes!

    | Reply Posted 10 years ago
  2. * carrie m says:

    Those fake doctors…they’ll get you every time. Whatever you do, DON’T peel the labels off of beer bottles. The jig is up.

    Love ya.

    | Reply Posted 10 years ago
  3. * Jo says:

    Ironically, Tul pens are excellent. We got a free sample pen at work and I LOVE it. Maybe Dr. Ackerman is on to something.

    | Reply Posted 10 years ago
  4. * Belle says:

    Apparently, the good doctor thinks he is in love with me, which automatically makes him nuts. Don’t put too much stock in anything he says. 🙂

    He also compared me to a Zanzibar Bushbaby… Nice.

    | Reply Posted 10 years ago
  5. * freckledk says:

    I’m cold, emotionally remote, cruel and vindictive. Dead on.

    | Reply Posted 10 years ago


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