Naïve Ohioan, seeking Lord Henry Wotton-caliber corruption.
What I’m doing with my life
I'm pretty determined not to ever have an actual, you know,
"career," for the most part because I get embarrassed when my
doting Jewish mother brags about me. Also, I feel I look like a
jerk when required to wear a suit.
I'm lucky enough to work in a world-class art museum, where
everyday I am surrounded by magnificent expressions of creativity
that comment insightfully on the human condition. As for my own
magnificent expression, I have an ever-expanding collection of
rejection letters from the submissions desk of The New
Yorker. I should probably take up decoupage.
I’m really good at
- Pointing out interesting things as I'm walking down the
- Helping you think of that word that's on the tip of your
- Figuring out exactly what you should be doing with your life,
while never EVER taking my own advice.
- Cooking delightful, pre-Latte Amanda Hesser-style
- Sharing my nuanced music, movie, and literary preferences with
people who are curious about those things.
The first things people usually notice about me
Probably my lack of height. Definitely the (authentic) jewfro.
Grammar and syntax. Indeterminable ethnicity.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Books: Ancient Evenings (Mailer). The Master and
Margarita (Bulgakov). Roberto Bolaño's Savage Detectives
and 2666. Anything by Márquez, Dorothy Parker, Alan
Hollinghurst, or Jennifer Egan. Franzen, sometimes. The
Romanian by Bruce Benderson. Cloud Atlas, The Thousand
Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, or anything else by David Mitchell.
Haruki Murakami, whether he's being sexy (Norwegian Wood) or
SciFi (1Q84). Heinrich Böll's Group Portrait with
Lady. Nigella Lawson's cookbooks. BUTT Magazine.
Movies: The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. Gossford Park. Lost in
Translation. Everything by Jim Jarmusch. Almost everything by Wes
Anderson. The moody/broody side of French cinema (my favorites
being Eric Rohmer, François Ozon, Xavier Dolan [ed. note:
he's Quebecois, but whatever.], and Jean-Pierre Jeunet). Bruce
LaBruce's films always make me laugh. The Cremaster Cycle + Drawing
Restraint 9. Every art documentary (I studied art history, with a
focus in the musculature of Matthew Barney's torso).
Shows: I totally understand why you think Tim and Eric is
funny. I even sort of like the fact that you like it. However, it
really isn't my thing, and I'd really appreciate you not holding
that against me.
Music: I like beachy, chill-out Brazilian tunes from the 60s,
Southeast Asian pop music from the 70s, and psychedelic African
guitar bands from the 80s. Basically, anything released on the
Sublime Frequencies label, especially Omar Souleyman. I love Mulatu
Astatke and those Schema Records Italian jazz samplers. I want to
approach jazz from a more intellectual point of view, but I need a
teacher - maybe you? Also, I really like Björk. And of
course I listen to a lot of Pitchfork-approved indie bands, but
it's difficult to talk about them without coming off as that
obnoxious jerk who wants to whip out his playlist to compare who
has more 8.0+
Food: All Southeast Asian food. Anything that borrows from the
Western Sahara region or Morocco. If I can't travel someplace I'd
like to, cooking from that place is the next best thing. And I
deeply understand the impulse to connect what you eat and what you
feel in a personal and convoluted way. It appeals to my
passive-aggressive desire to communicate in symbolism rather than
The six things I could never do without
- My friends
- Interesting things to interpret
- Weekends off
- Summertime in Toledo
- Piles of good fiction
I spend a lot of time thinking about
I think a lot about what's for dinner. I try to reconstruct recipes
of restaurant food from the memory of how it tasted. I often wonder
if they make that shirt in an extra-small. I think about how I
really should have Tweeted that hilarious thing s/he said, so we
can laugh about it later. I stress out about all the books I've yet
to read and worry that I'm forgetting the nuances of the ones I've
read and loved. I spend more time than I'd like to admit sourcing
strong, Jewish names for the children I'll probably never have.
There's a fair chance I'll wonder what it's like to have sex with
On a typical Friday night I am
It's been said that I "would attend the opening of an envelope,"
but in reality, I am most likely on a sofa somewhere, sharing wine
and music and witticisms with friends or making some kind of
no-frills, ethnic meal for them. The thought of possibly being
hoodwinked into conversation with a 22-year-old has made me all too
aware of my advanced age and the social aversions that come with
it; that's to say, I avoid a lot of bars. I assure you that my
steadfast refusal to visit a certain establishment on Adams Street
has nothing to do with the fact that I cannot dance.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I'm terrified of being too divulge-y on the Internet. Á la Jessa:
"I'm not on Facebook." Not so much because I'm uncomfortable
having my every move and thought documented, catalogued, and sold
for profit; but because I worry about boring acquaintances with the
minutia of my hour-to-hour existence as much as they've bored me.
It's turning us into narcissistic monsters.
Also: I deeply resent that modern life requires me to drive and to
I do not have a British accent.
You should message me if
you enjoy sitting next to that person at a party who knows
everything bad about everyone.