I exercise and eat right and think of nice ways to surprise people.

I was a film major, but film-the-career S-U-C-K-S (Boo! Double overtime for your immortal soul - not a fair trade).

I've reached that point where I realize there is so much more I don't know than do know or could ever know. (Rumsfeld? Not intentionally.) But I won't stop ~trying~ to be a knowitall. The net effect is I stand corrected readily, and preface statements with "I may not know what the hell I'm talking about here, but..."

I practice falling down stairs and spit takes. These are to make my nephew laugh, it's that rewarding. My sister says peek-a-boo is really enough, but why take chances? I'm happy diaper changing, though he just went to solid food (apparently carrot goo is solid food), so that is fear you see in my eyes, yes indeed. He's in France with my sis, and I just leaving soon to see him again. I can't wait until he looks forward to my visits as much as I do. (I can only assume that will be the case.) And yes, I agree with you: it is pandering of the most shameless, callow sort to post pics of a adorable child in my profile, and it should rightly get me nowhere.

For work, I'm Keeping Kids Off of Drugs. In the most roundabout way possible, mind you, though that is not supposed to imply I'm doing all the drugs I can (so there are none left for the kids), nor that I am letting junkies crash on my couch. And a few people have wondered, do I work for DARE? (No. Does that program even exist anymore? I thought it was laughed out of existence.) So while I am a Leo, I am not a L.E.O.

Outside of work, I spend a lot of time fixing (or "improving"<-- those are sarcastic finger quotes) my house, which is rewarding, but I find I meet few women or anyone else while pursuing this hobby. Other than the checkers at Home Depot, who I'm certain are under the impression I am stalking them, when in fact it's that I can't seem to complete the simplest of tasks without at least four trips there.

I'm also dating someone so not angling for a ménage à trois*, but I am interested in meeting new hiking/biking/walk n' talking/drinking buddies, especially ones that merit an 88%** friend rating.

Also, I need an arch-enemy, so anyone with enemy rating of over 50% may also apply.

*In a burgeoning relationship, I'm pretty certain this sort of suggestion results in the far less desirable ménage à moi.
** arbitrarily high number; incidentally how does this score work? I get a little afraid, imagining a lot of yelling, broken dishes and sex in public places when I see someone who is a 90% match, 33% friend and 22% enemy. Thrilling, but not so great for growing old with.

Being outspoken, and expressing outrageous and contemptable sentiments with a poker face, just to see what happens next.

Though it can be just as interesting to sit back and take it in. I mean, if you spend all your time giving your opinion, then you'll never get strange little moments like: "Were they ragheads?" "Yep. They were ragheads." "We don't like them, do we." "Nope." "Course, you know, a lot of them are Sikh, you know, like from India." "Huh." (This was at the hardwood store.)

If I've shaved, that I look like I'm six years old. (Verbatim quote.) If I haven't shaved in a couple of days, then I just start looking like a your-contract-is-almost-up member of Menudo.

I love the New Yorker and Atlantic Monthly, and most of Harper's, except for Lapham's Notebook ("Love it or leave it, Pinko!"*). I'm a sucker for good nonfiction. I have to work a little harder to appreciate (capital-L) Literature, but if the planets align, I can dig that too. Also it helps if the Literature has space zombies or a bit of skin or something totally awesome like that. And just because so many of my top matches had it, I read Surely you're joking, Mr. Feynman; it was superb. I also saw an hourlong interview with him, my god, the man ~was~ who Hugh Hefner thinks he ~is~.

I love hip hop, not so much rap (subtly different approaches in regards to the subject of ho's and tricks). But I'm a sucker for anything that moves my feet, really. It's gotta have a least a smidge of soul, I can't do straight up mmmThh mmmThh mmmThh mmmThh mmmThh mmmThh house music. I can't seem to get into Radiohead. I just like something with a little less ennui, I guess.

Indie movies, but not precocious indie, I have a one-quirky-character limit. I love documentaries (but not history/discovery channel style documentary). Capital-C-Cinema, though if it's over my head, I'm the first to admit it/heckle/nod off. And to put this out there, for those in the know, Overnight. (Fuck. Troy. Duffy. See "Willing to admit" for more.)

* I'm half kidding. Only half. While I'm ranting, why the do they cite the Index and not Findings? Drives me bonkers.

I thought of doing a list of smutty magazines, just to weed out the humorless (1. Jugs 2. Highlights [for Adults] 3. Gigantic Asses 4. National Pornographic ...and cetera).

1. The New Yorker 2. Ambitious cooking attempts (especially if they turn out great, but especially if they fail spectacularly) 3. Boxing class (it's not so hardcore that we beat on one another... but I just can't bring myself to call it Tae Bo) 4. Spring (aaah!) 5. Campari and soda (See #5.) 6. A good dance party, preferably spontaneous.

...my list of crushes; it seems to get longer every day (though they fade fast, too).

...how I can do it better (sometimes at the expense of just-doing-it-already, but usually a lot more fun), whether a work project or play.

...overthinking Marry-Boff-Kill scenarios.

I talk to my roommate whenever I can. She comes home from medical school most days fit to burst, and then she pours the most amazing ideas into my head until I can barely sleep at night. God Bless you, Teisha.

Meeting some new people at a party, gallery strolling or bookclub sashaying, maybe dancing, possibly saving myself for Saturday, which means watching a movie or reading a book.

Not usually cooking, dinner party is a Thursday night ritual.

I wore my underwear backwards for over a year before realizing my mistake. This led to two questions: 1) who puts the tag on the front, honestly? 2) Does any guy actually use the little whiz-flap? (This is how I came to discover my error.) I mean, really, the scenario: Must. Pee. Now. My options: Adjust underwear downward. Pee. OR Elaborate threading of necessary anatomy through layered cotton maze. Pee.

Also, at the risk of firebombing my chances of getting to know a huge chunk of my matches, I've got to admit: If Boondock Saints is listed in your favorite movies, I'm not sure we're a match. In fact, it may mean we are mortal enemies. (OkCupid's mathematical wizardry means nothing.)

You want to go get coffee, or take in a cultural event, or need a laugh (no promises).

If you find me irresistible, go for it. Mmm. Also if you find yourself irresistible, that actually could be just as interesting.