During those formative preteen years, I'd stay up late and sneak my oldest sister's YM and Teen magazines into my room and (after reading every line of copy in the whole publication) would get excited upon reaching the interactive portion - the quizzes.
You know the kind - "Does He Secretly Like You?" "What's Your Summer Style?" "Does He Secretly Like Your Friend?" and "Does He Secretly Want to Hold Your Hand and Listen to Your New Collective Soul Album With You?"
The answer, it turned out, was a disheartening "no" most of the time. It also taught me that if boys had one defining characteristic, it was that they were unquestionably secretive. And thus they remained so. The prophetic voice of YM magazine (unbelievably, no longer in print).
These tween-tailored questionnaires didn't exactly disappear. Rather they became more sophisticated, banking on the fact that all humans are A) interested in themselves, and B) have too much free time.
Fulfilling my self-interested-American duties, I was compelled to continue taking them as they evolved.
Color Code Test
née Hartman Personality Profile (
Yellow).
Meyers Briggs (
INTP).
Proust Questionnaire (
Various, unsurprising).
These were grown-up versions of the old Teen and YM 3-answer quizzes. Slightly more open-ended, requiring slightly more pondering. Still solipsistic. Still kind of a waste of time, even though endorsed by Proust. Yet, somehow, quizzically irresistible. Like a giant piece of flourless chocolate cake just sitting there.
Cut to.
Weekend date. Killer work week. 8pm Friday. Husband and I both too exhausted to be social, or to do anything besides lay around and try to think of something to eat. Nothing sounds good. Not even Nicolitalia. Too creatively drained to think of something fun to do. Oddly, bowling sounds attractive, though the energy can't be mustered. Mustard. Hot Dogs?
Stroke of genius. I pull out my laptop and head to Seventeen.com.
"QUIZ TIME!" I say, for the first time in my adult life.
Jared is skeptical, but trusting. Tolerant, more likely.
We're in luck - the quizzes are the same superficial junk they were 15 years ago. We take turns quizzing each other.
Could You Date Justin Bieber? (Yes. A girly girl to the core, the perfect date for you and J.B. would be something that allows you to spend serious quality time together (slow dancing, anyone?)
Addicting. It's like they're almost
more fun to take now than they were at age 11. And let's be clear - of COURSE I could date Justin Bieber. He would be so lucky.
We went foraging for more. We came across the best/most ridiculous
quiz site in the world. "Best" if you're 12, a terrible speller, and into Twilight, Jo-Bros, or Anime, and "most ridiculous" if you're a 27-year old married couple who's usually watches Woody Allen movies for fun.
There were so many to pick from:
How Will You Die? (Water. One day when ur [sic] 40 you develop a deadly allergie [sic] to water and after having a drink ur [sic] throught [sic] closes up n u [sic] die)
How Many 5th Graders Could You Take in a Fight? (100)
Penguins From the 1920s?
What Will Your Husband's Name Begin With? (S.)
The Grand Fat Quiz - What Level of Fat Are You? (*Average. Fair.)
Who is Your Perfect Anime Boyfriend? (Yumichika Ayasegeuwa "Bleach." If you say so, internets.)
and finally
What Do You Want For Dinner? (Enchiladas. Right on!)
Thank you, Seventeen magazine online, for offering unintentionally amusing quizzes. Thank you, Quiz Night, for being way more weird and hilarious than most other activities.
And most importantly, thank you for helping an exhausted married couple figure out dinner.
Love,
*An Average Fatty
