The thing about me is, I'm an intellectual type with fancy ideas and glasses to match. Book smart: okay. Street smart? Could be worse. People smart: not bad. Kitchen smart? Surprisingly satisfactory. Boiler, shelf-erection and fuse-box smart: not so much, though I'm fair to middling at parking.

If you're a funny bluestocking type, then I may be for you.

I am masculine, intellectual, and cool

I've rejected the world of conventional CVdom (been, there, done it and found it not at all bad, but then reached forty) to make a mad bid at writing something, as well as conducting a clutch of mini-careers at once; so let's hope travelling that road makes all the Frosty differénce. It challenges me financially but does mean I can live the life of a modern Dr. Johnson, indulging in thought and conversation as I please. Nearly. I probably read too many books and at times see too many films but I don't see enough plays at the theatre. I blog and take photographs.

French, cooking on the hob (I'm not so hot in the oven), looking things up, reviewing films and books, translating, knowing fun places in Berlin, New York and Paris, holding my head and sighing at the thought of Gordon Brown's electoral chances, German, knowing what's a good pub and what's a bad one. My poetry is not awful.

My accent, which makes them think I'm thick, or vulgar, or both. My glasses, probably, my eyebrows possibly. I'm quite friendly.