Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
"I've been described as the girl next door, by neighbors." (Will
This of course leads to the question of who lives next door to
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
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.
If you hit me with a neg, or a boring line, or even just poor
spelling, 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
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
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
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
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
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
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
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. Somehow
speaking Kid translates to speaking fluent Drunk and semi-fluent
Crazy, which are both really useful subway skills. 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
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
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
Help your potential matches find common interests.
For the sake of time and your patience, I'll pick my top few of
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
The Secret History- Tartt
Complete Poetry- Philip Larkin
High Fidelity- Hornby
The Fall- Tarsem
Zelig/Annie Hall- Allen
Howl's Moving Castle- Miyazaki
The Red Shoes- Shearer
Orphee/La Belle et La Bete- Cocteau
The horrific 70s animated Lord of the Rings-Bakshi
The Adventures of Robin Hood- The Errol Flynn Version, please
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
Steak Tartare at Zinc
Hendricks Gin and subsequent cocktails
Bucheron Cheese (or really just interesting cheese)
Sel de rose
Interesting Fruits and Fruit Juices
Wine (usually a dry Riesling -God, I'm Pretentious- but I'll try
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
Make an Ass of Myself
Be a twee-core Cindy Sherman
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
*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)
*odd things (exorcisms, dada, language structures) to be fascinated
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
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
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. Iconography,
lithopedions, Old Myths, how little I really know, unconventional
Where in the goddamn world Carmen Sandiego is.
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
During the day: Studying, learning, teaching, comforting, and/or
wearing a silly hat. Pulling bubbles, epi pens, lesson plans, and
secretly-healthy candy 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’m an empty essay… fill me out!
Sometimes even the most powerful feminists want a sonorous voice
telling them it'll all be okay, and that they've been so, so strong
that they've earned some rest. Strong arms holding her, and that
voice lulling her, telling her "brave girl, clever girl, you're
safe now. You can stop running."
Or maybe it's just me.
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
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. Or both. Or something better. 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.
Who are you looking for?
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