Find better matches with our advanced
matching system

—% Match
—% Enemy


45 Seattle, WA Man


Similar users

I’m looking for

  • Women
  • Ages 34–47
  • Near me
  • Who are single
  • For long-term dating, short-term dating

My details

Last online
Yesterday – 11:57am
6′ 2″ (1.88m)
Body Type
Graduated from masters program
Likes dogs and likes cats
English, Spanish
My self-summary
Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
Me? Fairly caffeinated. Fairly socially conscious. Fairly idealistic, despite mounting evidence to be otherwise. Wry as a Brit, but with better teeth. A non-Greenpeace greenie who’s been known to fill his coat pockets with plastic coffee-tops until he can recycle them. Strangely gifted at whispering dogs and small children. Inordinately proud of still having youth’s hair but not adulthood’s belly. Like cities, but get dizzy if I go too long without seeing an uncluttered horizon. Lived in Europe, and continue to travel: Korea. Sarajevo. Chehalis. Italy. Strangers tell me I am serious, friends tell me my stories make them howl, and someone once told me I have handsome thighs. I liked her.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
I'm a journalist/essayist/environmental- and travel writer who gets around a fair bit for a pretty choice job.
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
Skiing. Cooking. Attracting the crazy lady on the subway platform. Reading aloud. Charming your mother.
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
My height. My frequent references to cabbies as "sir." (That's what happens when you're raised by a military officer.)
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
ah, boy -- how about this week's list? Currently teetering on the nightstand: Best American Science Writing 2014. David Quammen's "Spillover." "The Complete Patrick Melrose Novels" (amazing stuff.) Just re-read "To Kill a Mockingbird," to remind myself how great the original was. An under-read book on being a part-time vegan, atop a book of cocktails. What I gravitate to: Most anything written by Michael Chabon or George Saunders. $3 Vietnamese banh mi frothing with cilantro. Wilco's less precious stuff. Lyle's older stuff. Any music you want to thrust into my hands and say, "Trust me."
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
Coffee strong enough to float a horseshoe. A copy of John Graves' "Goodbye to a River." My sister's 12-year-old triplets. Winter's oyster light in snowy mountains. SmartWool socks. Sunday with the Times, and time.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
Food. Writing. Books. Current events in places I'll likely not visit anytime soon. (Did I mention food?)
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
With luck, sniffing around on some adventure in or around the city -- or perhaps out in the mountains.
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
You're athletic enough – or at least game enough – to try cross-country skiing come winter, and hiking among the smiling wildflowers come summer. Have a ravenous mind. Force good books upon others. If caught reading People magazine or InStyle, at least feel a smidge of guilt. Eye your television warily. Know the value of banter; think that good talk, more than flowers or oysters or money, is the best aphrodisiac – whether it’s talking about why the films of Almodovar are so great, or why the latest Ted Cruz foaming-at-the mouth is not-so-great, or why your crush on the guy from Radio Lab has replaced your crush on Ira Glass. Read the newspaper, or some simulacrum. Are a good speller. Are pretty certain you've only got enough baggage to fit in the overhead compartment. Inspire ferocious loyalty among your friends. Enjoy irony, and paradox, and other high-falutin’ things, but still like "Last Week Tonight" because the things John Olive says makes beer come out your nose.