Bits of adolescence still cling to my personality. I know this because a little part of me believes I know everything. The five-year-old inside of me is still alive too, which isn't to say I ate a five-year-old, just that I still watch cartoons, play with action figures and believe that saying "Sissy-Doodie" is the world's funniest joke ever.

I even have dreams of starting my own Saturday morning show, "The Cartoon Adventures of Rainman," featuring the vocal talents of Dustin Hoffman, Mark Hamill, and either Hanna or Barbera.

The first sign of my impending maturity though came last week when I approached the Internet to take a Career & Personality Aptitude Test.

Previous to this exercise, any sort of life evaluation I sought meant asking my mom if I was good looking or if I was smart or if I was going to get away with the narcotics trafficking ring I was running out of our basement.

"Schnookems, of course you are; you're my little bubella," she would say.

Unfortunately, the days of mommy-evaluation seem to be over. Very few interviewers understand Yiddish, and "schnookems" isn't the kind of active verb that leaps off a resume to get a person hired. Also, I've found that "Because I'm a little bubella" isn't the correct answer to: "Why do you feel you are qualified to have extensive contact with the Securities and Exchange Commission?"

In search of more information about who I am and what I like to do, I turned to the world-wide web and found a "FREE! Psychological Exam" that would "accurately gauge my interests and abilities in four to six minutes (or less)." Again, lingering bits of near-absent adolescent self-esteem convinced me that all of my interests and skills could be measured in such a time frame.

The best part of the test, which I found at www.colorwize.com/colorme.asp, was that there were no questions! Instead, two different colors continually popped up, and I chose which one I preferred.

The procedure began when the computer asked me which colors I liked or like-liked. "Which do you prefer: Paisley-Fuscia-with-hints-of-Violet or Blue?" Then I answered. "Blue." Then the computer analyzed my preference and, based on the undocumented relationship between color preference and personality traits, my click-rate on the site's banner ad for Voyeurweb.com and the star appeal of Hugh Grant, I received a list of jobs for which I am qualified.

After four to six minutes the website gave me the following top 10 career field choices:

1. Atmospheric Science & Meteorology
2. Vending Machine Service & Repair
3. Boilermaker
4. Liberal / General Arts
5. Dental Assistant
6. Carpet Installer
7. Cinematography / Film
8. Geology Technologies
9. Musical Instrument Repairs & Resale
10. Any Medium Involving Drywall and Drywall Application

These are the actual results. They are proof that A.I. is truly the all-knowing neon god we've made. I do have one question though.

"What the hell is a "Boilermaker?"

The World English Dictionary says that a "boil·er·mak·er (n)" is: "Somebody who works in heavy industry making large metal objects, especially boilers."

I understand that someone has to make them, but I couldn't even make a popsicle-stick house at summer camp and the computer expects me to be in "heavy industry?" I sleep with a teddy bear (Yogi) for pete's sake.

Another definition comes from Globalgourmet.com, which lists a boilermaker as:

1 shot whiskey
1 mug of beer
"The drinker either shoots the whiskey and uses the beer as a chaser or pours the two together and drinks it. A Depth Charge occurs when you drop the shot glass into the beer glass and down the drink all at once."

Given a choice between boiler manufacturing or being submerged in beer, I think I'd rather go with the whole drywall route.

Personally, I hope the Internet is not as knowledgeable as its generational predecessor, The Magic 8-Ball, and that my destiny isn't written in HTML.

I used to think I could be anything I wanted to be. One of my cousins became a doctor, another became a lawyer, another became a woman, and now it's my turn. I'm on the cusp of entering the professional world, and I'm limited to ten possible occupations, one of which is a beverage.

That being said, I've decided to travel. I'll make my way around the world, learn every culture's detective nuances and combat styles and train myself to strike fear into men's hearts. Then, I'll return home to my mansion and fight crime as a vigilante on the streets of Gotham. This is my plan, and I know I'll succeed because ... "I'm Bubella-man."