I've been told that those who enjoy writing about themselves are more conceited than those who can't seem to find something to talk about. It's not really true.

It's really just those that have interesting lives, or are passionate about their lives that can find the words to fill up the character minimums. While I can write for hours in my journal, blog or MSN, 100 characters here just seems daunting.

I like to be interested; whether I'm surfing the Net based on one sentence I heard on History TV or studying a new language (currently, I'm attempting to learn Japanese), I want to be engaged. Not the kind that requires a ring.

I recently learned how to use torrents and I think I can see what all the fuss is about. I refuse to have a blackberry and I believe cell phones were made for phone calls and text messages; a foreign concept, I know. I simply prefer not to hear the beeping, buzzing and vibrating noises of the constant stream of e-mails and messages that comes with a PDA.

Life should be simple, and beautiful. It's easy to be a jerk or hate everything; it's harder to be critical without being condescending. I'm not sure whether I'm neither or both, but I'm attempting the latter.

I am living it.

I dislike this question, however, I will answer it: I work full-time in property; part-time as a writer; and, I like to set difficult but not impossible tasks on myself, such as learning Japanese and the piano.

Boring people with facts.
Cooking without poison.
Reading - It's a skill!
Seeing the silver lining.
Being a hermit.
Driving poorly.
Liking bad movies.

Life, the universe and everything.