Just imagine Wednesday Addams voguing or something
What I’m doing with my life
I manage projects and copyedit for a publishing services company. When I'm not doing that, I'm handing out cigarettes at playgrounds. It's whatever.
I’m really good at
naming stuffed animals, getting distracted from work to dick around
on Etsy, tripping and/or injuring myself very conspicuously in
public, dancing like an '80s new-wave California gold prospector.
The first things people usually notice about me
I walk really fast. Everyone I know gets super annoyed by that.
Also, I'm stubbly most of the time - not really by choice ... I
just kind of forget to shave.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Books: the Harry Potter series, East of Eden, Middlesex, Cloud Atlas, Life of Pi, Slaughter House Five, Catch-22, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, The Yiddish Policeman's Union (I love Michael Chabon but haven't read Cavelier and Klay)
Movies: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Wet Hot American Summer, Moulin Rouge, Star Wars.
Shows: 30 Rock, Mad Men, SNL, Parks and Rec, Six Feet Under
The six things I could never do without
1) A thermos full of coffee
2) My Mama
3) Frequent hugs
4) My laptop
5) My Kindle
6) A second thermos full of coffee
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Screaming in public places. Really. Really. Loudly.
But, I mean, I think about things that don't make me sound crazy
Actually, I'm absorbed in hypotheticals at most given times.
Yesterday, I bought a magazine, and I was trying to pay attention
to this woman behind the register talking about her pugs, but I
couldn't stop thinking about this what-if world where that was all
people paid her for: Like, she stands behind a register all day
long, and people just go up to her with their hard-earned cash and
give it to her so they can hear about the misadventures
Snigglebottom and Ferretfuck for ten minutes. And then I threw up.
On a typical Friday night I am
either having a movie night with some friends or out and about doing something fun but low-key like digging up graves.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I'm actually a thousand chilli-cheese fries wrapped up in a man costume.