I failed the Myers-Briggs test.

I prefer to spend time in kitchens, those of others and the one in my apartment, instead of living rooms or studies or whatever the other rooms in a dwelling are. Especially not rooms with televisions.

I enjoy things. Such as: running my hand through hair, or grass, or mud. Riding my bicycle in non-pre-determined directions. Trying to talk while kissing; Laughing in bed. Putting on a new pair of socks. Being the last one (of two) to leave the restaurant or coffee shop. Feeling breath. Bricks. Times and words like "gloaming". Dribbling Chartreuse or Bénédictine over my lips.

Blinding you with "science". Quite literally, if you don't watch out, as I work with reasonably powerful lasers. I moved from Boston in March, leaving behind some good friends and communities, and am now finding good friends and communities here.

Counterpoint, except in real life. This means, for example, making a masterful multi-course meal while conversing in a way that jibes with the flow of the food-preparation, and involving interlocutors, if not actually in the slicing and simmering itself, in its rhythm -- I listen while I chop, and I refill their wine with my right hand while I pound the chicken with my left. That last bit may be metaphorical.

It also means that I have a tendency to sing countermelodies to songs I don't know. You have songs, and I have songs, and there's usually a way to make them play beautifully with each other. I'd like to think I'm good at finding those ways.

My diction, my hands and how they move.

Depending on the situation, also: -    Pauses in my speech when I'm trying to be thoughtful, or perhaps really just when I can't think of anything perceptive to say so I hope that the trappings of thoughtfulness will substitute for the real thing.

According to an actor portraying Alex Trebek, "books" is just a less erudite word for "literature", so: Milan Kundera (if I'm generous and feeling French), Umberto Eco (an indulgence), Dickinson (my substitute for scripture?), A.S. Byatt (the best all-rounder in the world of pages to lie in, to wrap myself up in, to float down a river on), Vikram Seth (would that I were again an instrumentalist!).

Movies: They come and go. Pretend you see here "Amelie, Requiem for a Dream", but worn down by the elements like the name on an old gravestone.

Music: Bach, R.E.M., Mozart, Schubert, Nina Simone, Victoria, Palestrina. When I'm traveling in the rain, Portishead and Massive Attack. When I'm traveling in the sun, Creedence and the Rolling Stones. David Gray for when it's overcast or twilight. I also listen to the music that comes out of my piano or mouth a lot, even if it isn't as good as what's listed above; live performances have an energy and intimacy that's hard to capture on a recording.

Foods: I used to say that I was a foodie, but at the time, I thought that the word simply meant, "someone who's into food", rather than, as I have learned from three separate people in the span of a month, "someone who is annoyingly pretentious about food". I really wish it didn't have the latter connotation, since I really am into food, and I like learning from others of similar persuasions. I guess I'll say I'm an epicure, then. Or is that even more pretentious? Screw it. Just meet me at the supermarket, pick out some items with me, I'll cook for you, and you can judge for yourself.

My hands, air that feels like it was meant to be breathed like a warm sock feels like it was meant to have your foot in it, my health, something to listen to music with, something to make music with, laughter.

Transportation, geography. Improvised two-part inventions.

Selecting which wine to open or order.

Unless I'm still at work, in which case, I'm in ur lab, analyzing ur datas.

Te pedicans et irrumans.

Private means at least two things. One: something people are reluctant to let others know. Two: something personal that you prefer not to wear on your sleeve. Something about me that barely misses the first category: Eight years ago I hooked up with someone whom I knew was in a monogamous relationship. As for the second category, if I wrote something from it here, then it'd be on my sleeve, no? Hmm, let's go with this: Supposedly, 500 mL is the typical for adult human bladder capacity. Mine holds at least a liter, which is fortunate, since I probably drink about a cup of tea every hour between waking up and dinner.

you can think of something witty to say, or if you can't think of something witty to say. I'll read your profile -- you can let that do some of the initial work.