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Varlotte

24 F Brooklyn, NY

My Details

Last Online
Today – 12:36am
Orientation
Straight
Ethnicity
White, Other
Height
5′ 3″ (1.60m)
Body Type
Skinny
Diet
Anything
Smokes
Sometimes
Drinks
Often
Drugs
Sometimes
Religion
Agnosticism, and laughing about it
Sign
Aquarius, but it doesn’t matter
Education
Graduated from university
Job
Art / Music / Writing
Income
Rather not say
Relationship Status
Seeing Someone
Relationship Type
Offspring
Pets
Likes dogs and likes cats
Speaks
English (Fluently), French (Okay), Other (Okay), Occitan (Okay), Latin (Okay)

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My self-summary
"I've been described as the girl next door, by neighbors." (Will Eno)
This of course leads to the question of who lives next door to me.

My lovely boyfriend NKeats and I are a hyphenated unit, albeit an open one, and we're both game to hang out with interesting humans/cyborgs/sea sponges. That said, though, we do have ground rules. Try to reconfigure our relationship at your own risk.

In the Italian renaissance, the term "sprezzatura" was used for a kind of studied courtly nonchalance, giving the appearance of exerting no effort when really, doing just the opposite. I've never been good at that.

I fucking hate small talk, banality, and sexists. I'm an ugly, gawky kid at heart who's still astounded that she can use her boobs for evil, much less good. I may look like Zooey Deschanel, but beneath this vintage dress beat the hearts of Missy Elliott and ODB.

Just because I listed "interested in casual sex" on my profile does NOT mean that I want it with you. I'm picky as hell. Haters gon' hate. And by haters, I mean desperate, ignorant, ugly sexists with no grasp of spelling or grammar. Sorry I'm not sorry. If you hit me with a neg, or a boring line and are lucky enough to get a response from me, it's likely because I'll make you wish your protozoan-brained self had never been born. Stupid people need not apply.
What I’m doing with my life
I use Oxford Commas.

I speak five other languages, three-and-a-half of which are dead. I am a medievalist, and chances are, I've heard all your bad jokes about medieval everythings before and am really, really unimpressed by them.

I have a very vocal inner child. Or a Peter Pan Complex. Take your pick. I teach disabled elementary school kids for a living, and love it.

I make art, when I can be bothered. When I can't be bothered, I dye my hair and paint on myself.

I'm my own Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and I pack a punch. I will not make your life more interesting. I will not taste better on a Ritz. I will not save you ten dollars by switching to Geico. The revolution will not be televised.
I’m really good at
Apparently, I'm decent at writing an "intimidating" OKC page.

I'm prodigiously good at never acting my age.
I love first dates, first kisses, and (giving and receiving) presents. I'm brilliant at back massages and seeing through bullshit.

I also excel at escapism, fantasy, languages, being verbose, cooking improvisationally, gluing things to other things in what I've been told is an aesthetically pleasing way, researching, giving my all, making mixtapes, talking to strangers, and creating theater. I speak fluent enough Kid to know that most adults underestimate children's imagination/craziness/intellect. I can stop a conversation in its tracks, and will not feel the least bit bad about exiting a lame interaction.

Being the bastard love child of Delirium and Desire is hard, but I do it well enough.

I don't notice how a man looks as often as I notice how he sounds. Sonorous voices are notable weak point. I blame Neil Gaiman and Benedict Cumberbatch. And Sidney Poitier.
The first things people usually notice about me
The eyes. Anyone who thinks he has half a chance always uses the eyes as his opening gambit. Yes, they're big. Yes, they change colours. The male of the species tends to get really unimaginative around me. They also get the first impression that I'm easily wooed by bullshit and/or their mangled poetry quotations. I'm not. I probably -not to be arrogant- know more poetry than you.

Everyone calls me "cute" when they come onto me. I find that really troubling. I fell for the lovely NKeats -among the myriad reasons- because he never calls me "cute." If you want "cute," fuck off back to the ephebo links on /b/ you creepers. Or if you're smart, fuck off to some Nabokov. Either way, I think someone with my measurements has earned the right to not be called "cute." People of varying genders have rhapsodized about my butt, for what it's worth.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
For the sake of time and your patience, I'll pick my top few of each:

Books:
Geek Love- Dunn
Norwegian Wood- Murakami
Ada or Ardor-Nabokov
Love in the Time of Cholera- Marquez
Kavalier and Clay- Chabon
The Cloud Atlas- Mitchell
Un Lun Dun- Mieville
Crying of Lot 49- Pynchon
Deathless- Valente
The Secret History- Tartt
Complete Poetry- Philip Larkin
High Fidelity- Hornby

Movies:
The Fall- Tarsem
Zelig/Annie Hall- Allen
Howl's Moving Castle- Miyazaki
The Red Shoes- Shearer
Orphee/La Belle et La Bete- Cocteau
Rope-Hitchcock
The horrific 70s animated Lord of the Rings-Bakshi
The Adventures of Robin Hood- The Errol Flynn Version, please

Music:
The Decemberists- Crane Wife/entire discography
The White Stripes- De Stijl
Belle and Sebastian- Tigermilk
Liz Phair- Exile in Guyville
The Rolling Stones- Exile on Main Street
Django Reinhardt- Djangology
The Magnetic Fields- 69 Love Songs
The xx- XX
The Sunset Tree-The Mountain Goats

Food:
Steak Tartare at Zinc
Hendricks Gin and subsequent cocktails
Bucheron Cheese (or really just interesting cheese)
Lavender Flowers
Fresh Apricots
Sel de rose
Interesting Fruits and Fruit Juices
Wine (usually a dry Riesling -God, I'm Pretentious- but I'll try anything)
Avocado
Curry, specifically green curry

Things To Do:
Watch bad movies campily
Paint with found materials
Spectate and commentate
Be a bit morbid, sometimes
Collect old vinyl and then dance to it
DIY Clothes doctoring
Perform to a crowd/Be Watched
Pun Construction
Write
Make an Ass of Myself
Dream
Be a twee-core Cindy Sherman
The six things I could never do without
*More books than I can count (literally, I sleep spooned by book-piles, and have since I was a kid)
*music, podcasts, noise, or anything to soothe the quiet.
*an open window
*juice (or fruit in general)
*good smells
*odd things (exorcisms, dada, language structures) to be fascinated by
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Where I can learn German, Russian, Swedish, Urdu, Basque, Creole, or any of the other amazing and vibrant languages that people living right now actually speak. Learning disabilities in children throughout history. The history of the idea of childhood. The idea that maybe if I talk about the fact that I work with disabled kids enough, people might think I'm nice.

Top ten lists of pop songs for specific moments and emotions.
The fact that I am the more attractive, non-asshole version of Rob from "High Fidelity." Then promptly wondering the implied narcissism/smug-yuppie-ness of the aforementioned.

Agatha Christie and Sylvia Plath starring in a hi-jinks-filled roommates-sitcom in which Aggie is constantly walking in on Syl and Ted trying to kill each other. Working Title: Died in the Wool

The ambiguous and many-mawed beast known as the future, where I can get backrubs, The brilliant textures of an unwritten-in notebook, medieval exorcisms, Why-oh-why was I not born David Bowie, other people's compulsions, pica, the word "verity," how much I hate people who write with ellipses and read Dan Brown, Old Myths, how little I really know, unconventional staging methods.

Where in the goddamn world Carmen Sandiego is.
On a typical Friday night I am
During the day: Studying, learning, teaching, comforting, and/or wearing a silly hat. Pulling bubbles out of my dress pockets. Blaring rap in my headphones and strutting like a professional.

During the night: Nursing a bourbon, sketching people on the subway, or dreaming on the dance floor.

Perhaps coming home to/for/with you.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I am naked as I type this. Not even sexually naked, just naked because I can be so.
I’m looking for
  • Guys who like girls
  • Ages 18–28
  • Near me
  • For new friends, casual sex
You should message me if
Someone close once told me that "all men either want to protect you or devour you." So far, I've found this to be true.
You, however, should want neither. Be my partner in crime.

Be ready to keep up with an overstuffed brain. Always be up for adventures of both the g-rated and much much more interesting variety. Brace yourself to love and be loved. I'll try not to make it too hard.

Please, for the love of all things lovely, don't be an asshole.