I sometimes feel guilty about squashing bugs. I often give friends and family custom-written stories and poems as gifts; ask my mom about "Bobby and the Kangaroo from Hell: A Mother’s Day Fable." I've done freelance writing on film for papers and magazines in NYC and Hong Kong. My shoulders are stained with friends’ tears, but I don't mind, because they do the same for me. I presided at two same-sex commitment ceremonies, despite no official qualifications, long before it was the done, or legal, thing. I possess better-than-the-average-joe knowledge of medieval Arthurian legends, evolutionary theory, silent movies, Victorian ghost stories, the Donner Party, ape social structure and communication, and gender roles in the martial arts genre. I can't dance. I have a cute nose and toes and a sexy brain, or so I've been told.
I have a noticeable luddite streak. I think mp3 players are the vilest invention since the iron maiden, and I'm considering becoming a terrorist/freedom fighter to prevent the wiring of the subway system for cell phone reception. Someone has to make it stop!!
On a not unrelated note, I'm working on being more chilled-out and more accepting of risk, change and small annoyances in general. And on rolling my eyes and groaning less when I strongly disagree with someone's aesthetic tastes.
I like people who include one or two character imperfections in their self-description.
I was skeptical at first, but have found that answering those cupid questions or whatever they call them is addictive.
In the meantime: Desk jockeying. Enjoying the bottomless pool that is NYC. Nurturing my friends. Still sorting through and posting online many of my roughly 2,500 photos from the two vacations to Hong Kong that I've taken in recent yeas. Planning my first trip to mainland China for this fall. Taking my first drawing class and my first Mandarin class.
Working away at various writing projects with Kubrickian, or perhaps Ellisonian, slowness, but only a fraction of the talent.
Wondering when I'll stop being so delighted by the cat I've had for slightly over a year now. Never, I hope.
I'll make a great crotchety old man. Or so I've been told.
I'm a good kisser. Or so I've been told. Hard to check that empirically for myself.
The words, sometimes they dance to my tune like rats bewitched by the Pied Piper. That sentence was probably not a good example.
I can make fart noises in my kneepits while hopping around the floor.
Other than that...
In the now legendary words of a friend's six-year-old sister, upon first meeting me: "You BONY!" It's a little less true now that it was then, but in this country, that still sets one apart quite quickly.
My mother recently said to me out of the blue, "Neither one of your grandfathers did you any favors in the nose department."
Books: Tolkien; Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried"; Ian McEwan, especially "The Comfort of Strangers"; M.R. James' "Collected Ghost Stories" (classic ghost stories in general are a major obsession); "Naked Came the Stranger"; Patricia Highsmith's Ripley series; the Gossip Girl series; Washington Irving's short stories, especially "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"; George R.R. Martin's "Song of Ice and Fire" series (aka "Game of Thrones"); Sir Thomas Malory's "Le Morte Darthur"; Tennyson's "Idylls of the King"; and 400 others, before we even get into the non-fiction subjects. Film history, general history, religion, folklore and mythology, popular science, especially biology and evolution. "How to Think About Weird Things" and Carl Sagan's "The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark" should be issued at birth to all human beings.
Movies: Hitchcock, Hitchcock and Hitchcock; silent film, especially Buster Keaton, F.W. Murnau and Fritz Lang; Kieslowski; Scorsese to the mid-'90s; Woody Allen to the mid-'90s; David Lynch; Asian cinema, especially Hong Kong, especially martial arts movies, especially Jackie Chan to the early '90s, Tsui Hark and Lau Kar-leung; Akira Kurosawa; ; Wong Kar-wai; Hayao Miyazaki; Hou Hsiao-hsien; Abbas Kiarostami; Apichatpong Weerasethakul; Quentin Tarantino; horror movies, especially the '30s and '70s; black and white film noir; Pixar; the obvious Lucases and Spielbergs that meant a lot to me as a kid; "Blade Runner"; "Don't Look Now"; "Amadeus"; "Ghost".
Music: Beatles; REM; Rufus Wainwright, Loudon Wainwright III, Martha Wainwright; Richard Thompson; Sam Cooke; '60s Motown; Clay Aiken; Indigo Girls; Mozart; Bernstein's "Candide"; Sondheim's "Sweeney Todd"; Thomas Tallis and other Renaissance choral composers. Always happy to have someone thrust something new on me. That sounded dirty.
TV: Don't currently have access... such a time-and-money-sucker - just have a TV for watching DVDs. But, historically and on DVD: "Twin Peaks"; "Deadwood"; Joss Whedon (Buffy, Angel, Firefly, etc.); "My So-Called Life"; Letterman; PBS NewsHour; "The Littlest Bachelor"; "The Simpsons" when it was good; Lars von Trier's "The Kingdom"; "Community"; "Game of Thrones" (based on Martin, see "Books" above).
Food: Baby brains. I'm an atheist, you know.
Animal: Chimpanzees and bonobos.
Words: aardvark, phlegm, zwounds!, oy vey!, schadenfreude, natural (in archaic sense of "mentally impaired person").
Nostalgic Smell: Campfire smoke + tent nylon.
Porn-parody title: "Everybody Does Raymond."
Fun game: spot the lies above - there are a few.
That said... I dunno, trying to decide which six of my teeth are the most vital. The bicuspids certainly carry more than their fair share of the workload.
Carnality and crushes.
Science, religion, and epistemology.
Politics and the seemingly inescapable evils of power no matter who's got it. Then I get depressed and stop thinking about it.
How many times is too many to go back and look at someone's dating profile, given that they can see each time I do.
Whether I'm as good a person as I would like to think I am.
How to get revenge on the drug kingpin who wiped out my family and stole my father's pair of ancient heirloom swords when I was only a boy.
Whether a golf club would be better than a 2x4.
And I find a lot of you gals a little intimidating. You're very attractive. And sharp.
In all seriousness, I get the impression that the women on OKCupid find the men an unimpressive lot. That's too bad, because I find the site crawling with interesting, attractive, intelligent and even remarkable women. Am I just easy? Or are NYC women really that much better than men? Is a puzzlement.
And also if your idea of a good time runs more towards walking in the park or the museum, or lying around reading or watching a movie or smooching, or a chatty dinner with friends, or a cozy cafe, than it does towards crowded bars and throbbing nightclubs.
And if you at least appreciate scandalous double-entendres, and strategic deployments of vulgarity and shock. Even better if you can engage along with me.
If you're at least fine with cats. No, I'm serious. if you've marked "doesn't like cats," keep moving. Not just for practical reasons (I have one, and with any luck, she'll be around for a number of years), but because I don't want to know you. (If you're allergic, that is, of course, a different story, but it still won't work.)
And if you don't have an ethnic/racial preference in your dating. It's the second decade of the 21st century already.
If you're not seriously into any particular religion or mystical belief system.
If you're curious, and kind, and think you're at least kind of cute.