What's a Delmer Look Like?

May 9, 2008

Ink Blot - Well, Rats!

The text beneath "Emotional Receptivity" got deleted from yesterday's post as I edited and re-edited everything trying to get the bullets to align left (in Internet Explorer). It is reprinted below for your reading enjoyment.

This is from the first bit of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

Emotional Receptivity: 

• You are extremely unlikely or unable to respond to or be affected by complex or intense emotion. Your strong avoidance of feelings may be a result of bad experiences with them.
• When dealing with problems, you prefer to remain reserved, subdued and thoughtful in the midst of strong emotional experiences.  

While this may be true, my ability to render people unconscious with a simple pinch to the shoulder is a big hit at parties. And nothing gets chicks in the mood for a little Pon Farr like a mind meld. 

(Yes. I'm working on this too.) 

Due to the deletion of some of the text my clever, by my standards, references to all things Vulcan may have seemed lost. (Neshuk thuhrd is Vulcan for the words Ink and Blotch. I'm not sure the words together don't form some sort of idiomatic phrase with an entirely different meaning; dictionaries comprised of words from make-believe science fiction series only take you so far.)

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 4:25 PM | Comments (0)

Ink Blot Disclaimer

This is the professional explanation of how the Rorschach works. Just in case I was unclear yesterday. 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 2:52 AM | Comments (0)

May 8, 2008

Ink Blot - neshuk thuhrd

This is from the first bit of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

Let the fun begin.  

Situational Stress 

• Whatever current stress may be present in your life, you seem to be able to handle it.
• You are about as aware of stress in your life as most people are.

This sounds pretty good, doesn't it. I don't typically feel stressed and it's nice to know that I'm about as aware of the stress I have as the average person is about his or hers. If nothing else I always strive to be average.  

Emotionality 

Ongoing Depression 

• The test did not detect indications of long-term depression. If you experience symptoms of depression, they may be reactions to temporary situations rather than to long-standing personality characteristics.

The interesting thing about depression is just how all-encompassing it is. I've been separated/divorced for about four years and the whole thing was pretty rough. Every so often I'd have depressed spells and each time I had one it felt like this is all life is. It was suffocating and it felt like I was depressed all the time. And it never failed, I was never depressed when I was with my therapist and wanting to tell her about it. So, I started keeping track of my depression and found that great periods of time would pass — four, six, eight weeks — between depressed spells. And, they were lasting for short periods of time; about a day.   AND, AND, AND, when they were over I had trouble remembering just how bad they were; I felt like I was never depressed. 

When I get depressed now I know I'll be better tomorrow or sooner (Ted Nugent albums pick me up pretty quick). Even though I know this they still suck and have that this-is-all-life-is feel even though I know it isn't. If it wasn't for the life-suckiness of the whole thing it would be an interesting event.  

I'm typically only depressed when I'm by myself. And more and more infrequently these days. 

Situational Depression 

• Stress does not appear to be making you feel depressed.

Nope. Not stress. 

Coping Style: People usually learn habits that help them deal with new and unfamiliar situations and problems. Those habits are called a "coping style." Having a well developed coping style to rely on helps people more efficiently solve problems both in the world and in themselves. Like many habits, we can change how we approach problems.

• Your coping style is one in which you prefer to deal with problems thoughtfully to decide how to solve them before actually taking action. While you may seek information from others, you weigh the options on your own. This may make you less distracted by others and less influenced by what authority figures have to say.
• When solving a problem, you tend to make a decision or take action only after thoroughly thinking about all the available information.
• The degree to which you adhere to this style makes your approach to problems less flexible.
• This can be limiting when different kinds of problems require more of a "thinking" or a "feeling" way of handling them.
.

I, as mentioned in an earlier blog entry, sometimes take too long to make decisions as I always want to have just a little more information; the doc called this "overincorporation."  This is something I've known about me for a while and that I'm trying to fix. An example is when I was rolling out a new e-mail server. The solution was a pretty good one but I knew if I did x it would be better and doing y would make it better still. Doing x and y were dragging things out and in the end had to be dropped and added later — so, the users got the same thing they were going to get originally (which they were happy with) and I missed my (self-imposed) roll-out date. Yesterday I was looking at new laser printers and found myself getting caught up in things; I finally said f*ck it! I'm getting that one. 

I'm aware of how my problem-solving skills sort of fall down when it comes to problems that require "thinking" and "feeling." The doc said this is something I could work on with the regular therapy person I see.   

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 10:40 PM | Comments (5)

The Ink Blot Test

Just over a week ago I met with a Psychologist to go over some psychological testing I'd had done. Without getting into all the details of the "whys" I'll just say the doc was checking for ADD.

As it happens, I don't have ADD or any other cognitive dysfunction (a word I'm not keen on when it is applied to cognitive things). It would appear that any time I come out of a meeting wondering what the hell had just been said it's more a reflection of the boring nature of the meeting than a hardwired reaction on my part.

I'll bet you've all been in meetings like that. And if you haven't you've probably run meetings like that.

At one point during the testing I was given an Ink Blot test (sometimes called a Horshack Test after the beloved Arnold Horshack of Welcome Back Kotter fame). 

The only time I've ever seen an Ink Blot test has been on TV sitcoms and they are rarely portrayed as anything to take seriously. To make it even more challenging I knew that it was going to take every ounce of self-control to not say two ducks kissing for every blot that came my way.

I did my best and I saw things like:

• Two elephants balanced with their backs to each other
• Some Native American art
• My ex wife with a butcher's knife
• Pat Robertson
• Two little girls giving each other a peck on the lips
• Sea horses
• A frog skeleton (Hello my honey, hello my baby, hello my ragtime gal ...)

And you likely know I made up the stuff about my ex-wife and Pat Robertson. If not, shame on you; especially if you've been here more than twice.

A couple of Fridays ago the doc and I got together to go over the results of my testing. He told me the part about not having ADD and I took the lack of law enforcement officials milling about as an indication that he didn't consider me a danger to myself or others.

He handed me some papers and told me they were the results of the Rorshack. There were four pages of statements about me and each statement was numbered 1 2 ? 4 5; I was to circle 1 if I agreed with the statement, 5 if I disagreed, the question mark if I had questions and the 2 or 4 if I wanted to continue in Spanish. No, wait, 2 or 4 if I agreed or disagreed somewhat.

There are things I've thought I've known about me that I could never be sure of because I am the only thing I have to compare me against. I'm a sample of one.

They aren't good or bad things. They're just the way I am.

What I think is even better. There are things I think, that I'm not even sure I believe. I can't come up with an example right now, but this is just a draft. (And as I go to publish it I'm still lost for an example.)

Anyway the Rorschach is scored by taking the images I saw and matching those images with other people that saw the same thing. Then, the known psychological attributes about those people are taken and applied to me. For example, if 10 guys were to have seen my ex with a butcher's knife, well, that's not really a good example. If 100 people had seen, and this is just an example, Seahorses on one particular blot and all (or a percentage, I don't know) had similar ways of dealing with their emotions then that characteristic would have been applied to me.

Tomorrow we'll start taking a look at the results.

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 11:27 AM | Comments (13)

May 6, 2008

Tequilacon 2008 - More

I sort of jumped ahead with yesterday's story of Tequilacon and during that jumping-aheadness made a mental note to come back and mention something I thought was pretty important. And I'll be damned if I can remember what it was.

So let's make a quick stop to the night before as there is something I forgot to say about that.

As you know I see a therapy person who is helping me to overcome my fear of using stainless steel cutlery. And while that's not really why I see her it's close enough for the blog and will keep the other Tequilacon attendees from forming any damn-that-was-close worries. Anyway, a group of us were sitting around on Friday and I felt the need to say, "my therapist" before I gave a  thought to what this might suggest to people. I didn't want anybody to worry for or feel sorry for me.

Pausing, I asked, "Is anybody else here seeing a therapist?"

About 80% of the hands went up. (And I think we all felt worry and sorrow for the 20% who were therapist-free.)

Moving forward to Saturday…

All of the Tequilacon attendees were presented with lanyards that had been beautifully designed and artfully crafted by Dave. Those of us with sufficiently low Dave Numbers were also presented with buttons (that look way better than my poor photography indicates).

Other swag included condoms packaged with Avitable's likeness and a lovely kitchen magnet from the lovely Miss Britt. I also have a CD of Tequilacon songs that Jen handed to me, but I'm fuzzy on who put the compilation together. (It was late in the evening and I'd had more than one Brooklyn Brown Ale in me.)

I took an Ohio State University shirt that I gave to Jen (for her masterful work in keeping the TC list) and for Dave I took an OSU shirt, OSU lunch bag, and a Scarlet and Gray Magic Scarf (that is apparently so magicky, so scarfy and so well known that not only does it have a website but when I mentioned I'd given it to Dave both Greeneyezz and Hilly* said, "You mean the one that ... etc.)"

[*Please note that where I say "Hilly" in the above paragraph, it could have been Hello Haha Narf, Finn, Shelli, LibraGirl, Christine, Jan, Lisa or New York City Watchdog. Please refer to my note about Brooklyn Brown Ale.]

The Best Thing About Tequilacon: There is really not just one best thing. It was all great. Everybody was so incredibly nice, friendly and had interesting stories to tell. I wish I could have talked longer to more people.

Not surprisingly, despite some of the things we all say on our blogs, it was not an orgy of foul-mouthedness.

The Most Unsettling Thing About Tequilacon: For the longest while it looked like I was going to be the oldest person there. And not just by a little. It was going to be 47-year old me and then a bunch of people in their late 20's and early 30's. Fortunately I'd eventually meet Mr. Geeky Geeky Tai Tai who was kind enough to be several years older than I am. I also learned that blogging keeps a person young as several of the people I'd thought to be in their early to mid 30s were a couple-several years older. And that was before any Brooklyn Brown Ale.

Technorati Tags: Tequilacon

Posted by delmer at 11:17 AM | Comments (9)

May 4, 2008

Tequilacon 2008 - Saturday Night

Saturday afternoon found me filled with a sense of dread when, as I passed a business named "Mr. Chicken," I was reminded that I'd baked a pan of chicken thighs Thursday night and that I'd forgot to wrap and put in the fridge. I'd had every intention of letting them cool in the oven for ten minutes but as I did the math Saturday morning it hit me that a day and a half had passed and that it would be Sunday about midnight before I could get to them. I wasn't too concerned about the thighs putting off any sort of smell in the 72 hours they'd be "cooling," -- I'd tossed the package they'd come in into garbage I'd forgotten to take out and was sure that smell would outclass any other that was lingering in the house -- I just don't like the idea of wasting food and there's no way I'm going to be eating those things.

[Due to some serious work things today and some bike riding tonight I'm a bit behind. This is posted as a Sunday entry but I'm "tweaking" it Monday night. When I got home the house did not smell and the pan of thighs looked pretty good. I'd considered that they'd been in an oven that I'd heated to 405F and that was sealed sort of — it isn't waterproof, but it isn't like the thighs were sitting outside. Anyway, I took a bite of one of the thighs to see how it was (I'd call it a bit dry) and then I spit it out into the garbage as I wasn't positive that eating meat that had been unrefrigerated for three days was a good idea.)

A short time later the sense of dread passed and was replaced with a sense of wonder as I stepped into the North Bowl Lounge and Lanes.

I've got to admit that I was a little concerned when I'd heard that Tequilacon was going to be held in a bowling alley as it sounded like an ass kicking waiting to happen: a bunch of geeks getting together to party in a bowling alley which is the native habitat of the American redneck. I'd even gone so far as to suggest that Black Belt Mama show up in her black belt (called a Karman to those of us in the know) and robe (or Ghia) just in case we needed some protection.

The North Bowl and Lounge and Lanes, as it turned out, was the perfect venue. It was more like a really nice bar with a bowling alley downstairs. Perhaps that's why "Lounge" comes first in the name.

The upstairs lounge part of the North Bowl was overrun by the Tequilacon crew and a few other people that seemed to be very unredneck-like and who were being watched over by Jen's mom. I know this because, upon seeing Dave digging into a plate of something I thought I'd go grab a plate of the obviously-free snacks myself. But first I'd get a beer. And it was while I was standing waiting to order my beer that Jen's mom came over.

"I'm Jen's mother," said the tiny, elderly lady with a hint of German in her accent.

"From Run Jen Run?" I asked, genuinely surprised. I'd talked to Jen and she hadn't mentioned her mother being there but it isn't like Jen and I were super-duper extra-tight pals. I was pretty sure there were a lot of things Jen hadn't told me and maybe she was afraid I'd ask her mom to carry me around on her back if she let it slip she was there. I'd met Dustin earlier and knew his mother was playing an active role in Tequilacon, so why not Jen's mom? 

"No. I'm Jen's mother?" repeated the tiny elderly lady, in a tone that showed incredible patience for a person of Germanic ancestory.

"From Run Jen Run? I restated, assuming she'd misunderstood me.

"No. Jen and David. The bride and groom."

"Is this a wedding party in this part of the lounge?" I asked with genuine surprise,  "I might be in the wrong place."  And I was which was verified by a wave and a "you're supposed to be down here" from Hello Haha Narf and a polite "yes you are" from the barmaid. I was so glad I hadn't gotten snacks first. (I was able to order snacks from our part of the lounge… which was soo much better and cooler and full of more fun people than the wedding party part. Though I will say that Jen's mom seemed nice.)

(I am really really tired and there is a lot more to say and it is one a.m. Tuesday morning despite the time stamp on this. AND I was simply going to download this off my PDA and post it, but it needed two-seconds tweaking and now more than an hour has passed. So, I'll finish later.)

Technorati Tags: Tequilacon

Posted by delmer at 8:19 PM | Comments (6)

Tequilacon 2008 - Friday

Friday night I had a 6:15 flight to Philly. As I was through security by 5 p.m. I thought I'd start my mini vacation by having a beer. And then a shot of tequila and then another beer. I did this while sharing a table with a blond gal (a chemist) who was on her way to Denver to take a mini vacation of her own.

The plane boarded on time (by the way, USAirways, despite the assurance that using my USAirways Mastercard to pay for tickets would get me on the plane faster, I still boarded in zone 4) and we were up and soaring in a manner that suggested we'd hit Philly early or at least on time. To celebrate I ordered two beers from the flight attendant. The flight was great and, aside from the person sitting in one of the seats near me that kept farting every 90 seconds (take a shit before you board people!) problem-free. [Oh, I should probably mention that an infant, one seat behind me and in the next row, squalled the whole flight. About half-way into the flight I realize he'd been squalling the whole almost nonstop but that I hadn't paid him too much mind. And then I wondered if crying babies don't bother me because I'm a father or if it was something else. Maybe the four beers and the shot.]

It took me longer to get to the hotel from the airport than it took me to get to Philly from Columbus. Part of this was due to the fact I have tremendous patience and part was due to the fact I'm an idiotic traveler. None of it had to do with alcohol as it all wore off during the wait. Without droning on too much just let me say that the Liberty Shuttle does not pick up people at the same place the hotel shuttles make collections.

I'd given New York City Watchdog a call after check-in and he told me that he and some other bloggers (none of whom I'd ever met) were at the Sheraton.

I'll point out for the people who have never been to Philly that the roads are a little f*cked up. At least in the Center City area. To save some virtual ink I won't say much more other than in my walk to the Sheraton I crossed the street several blocks from the hotel in order to take a direct line to it. As I walked closer I found that the street crossing actually took me a block too far to one side and I had to cross back even though it was clear when I initially crossed that without that first crossing I'd have passed it on the opposite side. I'm sure this doesn't make sense as you read it but as I briefly mentioned the "challenging walk" I'd had from my hotel a well-dressed Sheraton managerial-type said, "You sort of had to triple back, didn't you."

The NYC Watchdog had told me the group was in the restaurant so I went there first. I noticed a room with 14 or so people right next to the hostess station and asked her, "Do you know anythings about the clowns in there?" She didn't but said I could stick my head in. So I did.

I opened the door, stepped in, and things got quiet. I looked at NYCWD, pointed in recognition and called him by his first name. I gave Avitable a point and mentioned him by his name and made the same gesture/verbalization toward Miss Britt and Hilly. My thought was that since I'd just had NYCWD on the phone he might be expecting me and might have told some others that I was on my way.

As it was somebody, I think Midnight Cliff, looked up and asked, "And who are you?"

"I'm Delmer," I said. Not because I have Cher-syndrome, that is I don't think I'm deserving of a one-word-name identity, but because I thought it would be enough. Very few people find themselves in the position of having to wonder "But which 'Delmer' are you." And these people should have seen the Tequilacon Roster and at least recognized the name; how many Delmer's could they be waiting for?

What I didn't realize was that this group of bloggers had been making a bit of noise and had been threatened with getting tossed out of the restaurant. When I stuck my head in they thought I was a bouncer (and a very self-confident one as this was a mean-looking group of people).

A second or two later my obvious harmlessness won them over and Karl welcomed me to Tequilacon.

[My apologies for the lack of links and the abrupt ending. I'm at Philly airport and we board in about 10 minutes. I'm out of time. Yes, this is posted as Saturday's entry, but I'm writing it Sunday night.]

Technorati Tags: Tequilacon

Posted by delmer at 4:12 AM | Comments (11)

May 2, 2008

Bonus Condom Story

I mentioned the "Needing a Translation" problem (see the other entry from today) to a female coworker which led her to tell this story. 

Her friend is a Teachers' Aid for a first-grade class in Cleveland. The TA walked into class the other day, took a look at something on the edge of the teacher's desk, and asked the her, "Why do you have a condom on the desk?"

"That's a condom?!" she asked with some surprise and dismay.

One of the first-grade girls found the condom on the bus, opened it, and brought it to class blown up for the teacher. She was so happy with her "find" that she'd gone so far as to draw a happy face on it.

As it was a condom the teacher was required to take it to the principals office and make a report.

I'm guessing she left out the part about not knowing what it was.

Posted by delmer at 12:55 PM | Comments (6)

Women, I need your help

Guys are welcome to lend a hand too.

I need a translation. For a friend of mine.

This friend, who had three adorable male children, was having a conversation with his ex wife. Without getting into all of the specifics he was led to say, "You accused me of cheating on you."

"I never accused you of cheating," she said.

He thinks she did, based on the following conversation they had while married:

"Where'd this condom come from?!" she said, picking a condom up off the counter and using a tone that a woman might use to ask about a condom she didn't recognize.

"Where do you think it came from?" he said in the playful tone a man might use because he's an idiot and he thinks is spouse is goofing on him because she gave him the condom and certainly she must remember she did.

"I don't know. It's not one of ours." And it is then he realizes that there is not a hint of "fun" in her voice and that her tone is very pointed.

And, we can really stop there I suppose.

That is the part I need translated. What could she be suggesting? And to be clear, her presentation was not conversational. It wasn't, "Hey… here's a condom. I wonder who it could belong to."

Certainly this conversation lacks the direct finger-pointing that "I think it was you (who was) looking at porn on my computer!" but it does not appear, to my male friend, that the conversation was headed toward, "I think you've been using condoms to make balloon animals and that is nothing but a waste of latex. Don't you know there are people in developing countries who can't get condoms at all! What would Al Gore think?"

Any thoughts?

[For the record, she had given him the condom in a birthday card. It wasn't the brand they normally used as she'd gotten it at an odd little shop in and odd little part of Columbus; the kind of shop that might have a giant bowl of condoms on the checkout counter. Also, it was she that had been looking at porn on her computer… accidentally, and she didn't have the clearest sense of how Internet Explorer's history and cache worked.]

Update: When he explained she'd given him the condom in a birthday card, with baseball tickets, and further explained the events surrounding it's procurement she seemed to start to remember that she'd been in the odd little shop… and they had a fishbowl of condoms… and perhaps she'd given it to him.

Posted by delmer at 11:47 AM | Comments (8)

May 1, 2008

A 49th Anniversary

It's a shame the RAINN posting period is over as I've got the most interesting sex story yet.

My parents have been having sex with each other as a married couple for longer than most of you have been alive.

Today marks their 49th anniversary.

I called this evening to wish them a happy anniversary and got dad on the phone.

"Happy anniversary," I said. "What did you two do today to celebrate?"

"Well," said dad, "As a matter of fact we were just getting out of the bed." And he didn't mean because they were having an afternoon nap. 

Big D is always the cut-up.

Posted by delmer at 8:51 AM | Comments (7)