For the sheer absurdity of it, I once accepted a friend's request to coach his men's hockey league team for one game having no experience coaching and little experience playing hockey. I showed up to the rink in an ugly, over-sized plaid suit, and a fake mustache. My locker room speech about glory and the curative effects of apple cider vinegar ended in high fives and fist pumping - I was truly an inspiration to my team. And so, with ten minutes left in the game, the team down by six goals, and one player ejected for fighting, I decided to leave the bench for cheese fries (I was getting pretty hungry from shouting at refs and throwing hockey sticks). On my trip to the snack stands, I got the brilliant idea to return to the game as a player. I knew the rules of hockey and knew coaches could do this. So, I ran to the locker room, and convinced the player ejected for fighting to let me borrow his sweaty equipment (ugh - just thinking about putting that stuff on - Christ!). Anyway, I entered the rink accidentally during game play and created a lot of confusion. The refs were pissed, but I was allowed to play the game. My arrival energized the team and we managed to not get scored on again in the closing minutes. It was exhilarating. I was like a figure skater out there (kinda).

Victory was mine.

I'm thoroughly enjoying working as a lead clinician (intern) in a North Philly elementary school. I perform psychotherapy with children with developmental and behavioral disorders. I've gotten the nickname, "Kid Whisperer," for magically calming kids down when they're in the throws of a tantrum. The name is meant well, obviously, but it kind of makes me sound really creepy, right? I think I need a new nickname.

Three days out of the week, I spend time with my daughter. She's alright if you're into insanely cute and freaking awesome people that are three years old and into Michael Jackson. She's obsessed with music, like me, and we spend a lot of our time listening to music and pop locking (we're not so good at this). She's becoming a music snob, already. She probably should chill a bit.

I'm also a musician. I play guitar and sing in a band. I've been busy preparing songs for a record that we'll be recording next month. Very excited for it!

Ping Pong
Explaining my aversion of hidden raisins
Impersonating Charlton Heston
Withstanding extra spicy foods
Listening to people that are not my parents

Maybe my hair, and my dimples. These things have been mentioned to me before.

Books: Lucky Jim, Red Harvest, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, The Ballad of Peckham Rye, Light in August, All the Pretty Horses.

Movies: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Kind Hearts & Coronets, Blow-Up, Breathless, 400 Blows, Playtime, Le Cercle Rouge, Happy-Go-Lucky, Lawrence of Arabia, Le Havre, Network, No Country For Old Men.
*Don't worry - I do enjoy blockbusters, too.

Music: Broadcast, Cocteau Twins, Alton Ellis, Gang Starr, Orange Juice, Al Green, Stereolab, Ken Boothe, Serge Gainsbourg, My Bloody Valentine, Go-Betweens, Curtis Mayfield/Impressions, The Clash, Dionne Warwick (Bachrach era), Public Enemy, Talk Talk, Can, Morricone, Roots Radics, Everything But The Girl, Felt, Ariel Pink, Teenage Fanclub, El Perro Del Mar, Ron Sexsmith, Josef K, Stone Roses, etc.

I'm obsessed with Chinese food, right now. Probably spending too much time/money at Nan Zhou in Chinatown. I also love Indian, Italian, and southern barbecue.

1. My sanity
2. My pizza stone
3. My Karagarga membership
4. My guitar
5. My bike
6. My patience

Why the songs "Inna Gada Davida" and "Tales of Brave Ulysses" pop into my head about every other day, converge, and disorient me for about five minutes at a time. It's been happening for the last fifteen years.

Enjoying the company of friends at Prohibition Taproom. Possibly, seeing a show at Johnny Brenda's.

Sade changed my life.

Seriously.

You're an empathic person with a big heart.
You're passionate about your work and interests.
You're not afraid of change and taking risks.