I graduated college, got a professional job, started doing the whole normal picket fence thing, and absolutely hated it. So one day I gave away almost everything I owned and became voluntarily homeless. Everything I had fit in a backpack and I spent the last couple years hitchhiking around the country having adventures and meeting great people. I supported myself doing various things like working as a carnie, volunteering at a hippie festival, working as an apple picker, anything that seemed interesting. when I couldn't find something special to do in a city I would just work as a male stripper, so I've done that in most major cities in the country as well. these past few years have been the happiest of my life.

I ended up settled again just as suddenly as I had left. I didn't really plan to leave the road but I ended up in New Orleans and spontaneously grew some roots again. this was a bit over a year ago and I'm still figuring out whether (and how) I want to have a normal life again.

no idea. for the moment I am still getting used to the idea of living indoors, in one place again.

I get food and pay rent by being a male stripper, but that's just a job, not really what I'm doing with my life. (update, too busy to fully update profile but I figure I should mention I switched from stripping to bartending a couple months back)

up until a few months ago I got all of my meaning out of traveling and trying new things. haven't figured out where I want to find my meaning living here yet . . .

I'm good at ranting. I have opinions about everything and they always sound better when given at 400 words a minute at the top of my lungs. Well, when I say I have opinions about everything, I guess I mean that I have opinions about philosophy and music . . . but what else is there?

I'm also a good dancer, or at least the invisible hand of the free market says that I am.

my eyebrows. so pointy!

just a hint: do not ask me if I gel them that way. I am so sick of that question, rar!

something I scribbled down in a notebook while I was traveling . . . seems to apply pretty well so I figured I'd put it here:

"look at the questions we fill out for our social networking sites, for our dating sites, for any kind of profile we make these days . . . there is always a massive focus on things like what movies or books or music you like. is anyone else terrified by this? I mean, one is trying the ultimately difficult act of truly defining oneself, and one does so with media preferences? I am a collection of virtues, sins, embarrassments, and achievements! so are you and everyone else! and yet we think the best way to describe ourselves is by our choice of what to like from a list of things others have created? I can only date someone or be friends with someone if they enjoy the same third-party-created motion pictures as I do?

When I get the urge to buy a movie it isn't because I want to see it over and over, it is because some stupid animal part of me wants to make sure it is on my shelf so that people who come in my house will know that I am the type of person who likes this movie, and thusly know whatever it is that this supposedly means about me. fuck that!"

I decided there wasn't anything I can't do without, that's why I'm living my simple life that I have now. I liked having computer access so I could post stories from the road, I liked having the sleeping bag that I carried with me, and so forth, but if I lost those I would still be happy.

Now that I'm attempting the settled life again I can no longer brag that everything I own fits in a backpack, sadly. But, other than basic "living indoors" stuff like some pots and pans I haven't really accumulated much. I intend to keep it that way.

1. abstract philosophical problems that will probably never actually matter

2. "hey, I'm hungry"

in no particular order.

commodifying my sexuality. gotta make a living somehow :-)

anything. I was born with no concept of privacy and I'll answer any question from anyone.

hmm . . . what is something I can say to prove that I have no sense of privacy . . . um . . . I know!

when I was 14 I stuck a banana up my butt to try and see if I was gay. turns out that I am, at the very least, not gay for bananas.

You are very smart, and very non-traditional. otherwise we probably won't get along so well. Also I'm pretty serious about poly and generally won't consider the alternative. If you don't already know what that means then you probably won't be into it.