I'm outgoing. Everyone says they're outgoing. I spell well, use five-dollar words, know how a lot of things work (and am working on the rest). I really, really need coffee to function.
I often wear t-shirts with sarcastic sayings on them. Every single one of my jeans has the right knee ripped out, from working. I go through work boots way too quickly.
I play bluesy piano, a few chords on guitar, a decidedly mediocre electric bass, and a mean game of scrabble. I volunteer, work for peanuts for a cause or art I support, and somehow make my rent anyway.