I'm really tall, damn skinny, somewhat foppish, a bit androgynous, a longtime vegetarian, and a native of DC.

I live in a huge shared house a few houses up from Lake Washington. I've never had or needed a driver's license, though I should probably get one eventually. I ride my many bikes everywhere, for a while I was racking up 200 miles a week just from commuting and general bullshit.

I've been doing a lot of outdoor adventures recently, and haven't needed to work as much — I've whittled it down to one client, they're a children's musical theatre company.

Letting my reading habit expand to fill all available time. Online discussion is pretty addictive too: it's like a skinner box for the intellect, especially when voting comes into play.

Taking exactly as much stuff as can fit on my bike, whether that's 50 pounds or 500 (if I have a trailer hooked up).

Answering questions in the affirmative. My friends get surprised when I say no.

My proportions are all stretched vertically — I'm too tall, too skinny, and my hair is too long (past the bra strap, so to speak).

I have slender fingers that have layers of scars all over them, with perfectly shaped nails that always have dirt under them.

When I was in college I was constantly getting books via Inter-Library Loan systems, and usually had a dozen such books at any one time, but my book-reading has all but stopped since I graduated and lost my frictionless acquisition mechanism — there is so much else to read online. I think the last novel I read on paper was a translation of Alfred Jarry's Le Surmâle.

I read a lot of blogs and such, here's a taste:
* Mixed-media literary criticism on a flatbed scanner with narration
* Onanistic Ballardian architectural criticism in the style of Borges
* Political commentary from a Jacobite Neo-Cameralist
* Having a kid can make you even cooler, if there are now two of you
* The greatest extant Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and she's twelve
* A brand so bespoke that it can only feed and clothe her faceless self
* Documenting a personal regime of uncharacteristic performances

Not-yet-canceled TV I watch: Venture Brothers, 30 Rock, Archer, House, Mad Men, Community, Treme

Lately I've been minorly obsessed with how brilliant Lady Gaga is — as if Björk and Matthew Barney were a single person rather than a married couple (or Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed!)

Nearly every evening I cook an enourmous meal for myself, usually by experiment, and often over-elaborately. I almost always buy ingredients without thinking about how I'm going to prepare them — excepting baking and custards, I can rarely take a recipe as more than a combinatorial hint. I've been vegetarian for a decade, but noone would mistake me for a vegan: I eat a lot of butter, whole milk, heavy cream, elusive high-fat yogurt, rich cheeses, and eggs.

My favorite colors are bluish desaturated Purples — the range from periwinkle and lavender to eggplant and plum.

Milkfat in all its guises
The Malliard Reaction
Efficient, flowing self-propulsion
Novel ideas, open media, and discursive communities
The means to test a hypothesis
Sandboxes to play in

Recovering from Thursday night's debauchery

Only in the last few years did I figure out how pants are really supposed to fit — I'd been compensating for too-short standard inseams by wearing larger waists too low on my hips. It's like I'd been in the front row of a very special episode of Oprah, just with trousers instead of bras as the subject for revelations of fit.

You dance gaily but not too much
You mirror your partners (adorable!).
You know what I should do with my hair.
You sleep on the side of the bed nearest to the door.
You want to ride in my sidecar (or pilot).