I'm a writer... uh, aspiring writer, and I build websites and scribble out Java code to pay the bills and buy the coffee that fuels me. I love animals, play the piano, and bake the world's best cinnamon-kahlua brownies, not that I like to brag or anything. You'll want me on your team at trivia night and on the opposing team if we're playing dodgeball, except... uh, why are we playing dodgeball? I'm at peak happiness when I'm traveling and when I'm discovering superpowers I didn't know I had — for instance, I was in Belgrade, and did you know I can speak Serbian? Neither did I.

I'm a nerd at heart and an information sponge, but I know how to turn it on and off. I could talk forever about video games or philosophy — but I won't... unless that sort of thing turns you on. I'm anywhere from mindless silliness to total brainiac depending on the who, what, where, when, and sometimes why, and if I'm truly on fire, I can do both at the same time. Also, if I'm truly on fire, please point a fire extinguisher in my direction. Because fire is hot.

Enough about me, let's talk about you. You are a human female, and we're off to a great start! You're here to meet new people, make a few friends, see what happens, no expectations and not exactly certain how to do this. You're looking for a partner in adventure, crime, tennis, business, crime-fighting, dance, silence, trading, sparring, or all of the above. Hey, me too! What a coincidence!

I am introspective, scintillating, and a work in progress.

Have you seen the latest "Mission Impossible" film? Well, it's a lot like that, only I'm not a smug jackass the way Tom Cruise is.

Writing. It's what I was born to do.

Also, bossing computers around, forcing them to do tedious math until their little circuits burn.

I have a magical ability to pacify intractable dogs.

I mentioned the cinnamon-kahlua brownies above, but they deserve a reprise. They're like Mexican chocolate ambrosia awesomeness. The secret ingredient is love. And kahlua.

I'm quiet and shy when you first meet me, and it takes a little effort to pull me out of my shell. I'll be honest: it's a teensy bit awkward and truly adorable, like that sneezing YouTube panda cub or a litter of kittens riding a Roomba. All together now: awwwwwww. Yes, I become a helpless, blithering idiot in the presence of cute animals and, to a lesser degree, cute home appliances.

But I grow more and more animated and outgoing once I get to know you. Still just as adorable, though.

I've been using Barnes & Noble as my personal library for a while now, and here's some of what I discovered: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig, Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas Hofstadter, Grendel by John Gardner, Wit by Margaret Edson, Freakanomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner.

When I'm in a guilty pleasures mood, I'll take a seat in the European History or Cookbooks section and breeze through one of those paperback potboilers they sell at the airport bookstore — you know the ones, where on the back cover Publishers' Weekly calls it "tour de force storytelling with an ending beyond imagination!" How can I resist? I'm only human.

I own Amélie on DVD... but there's a DVD of Fight Club next to it on the bookshelf, just to balance out the yin and yang.

I listen to mostly indie rock at home, bubbly Top 40 pop (or pap) in the car, and the soundtrack to the movie Gladiator on the treadmill at the gym.

I'm still mourning the untimely death of Pushing Daisies. Also gone too soon: Freaks and Geeks, Daria, Friday Night Lights, The Wire, and Veronica Mars. I am very happy about the returns of Community and Arrested Development.

My favorite food is, without question, the greasy, slimy half-sirloin half-brisket cheeseburger slathered in some unholy combination of relish and mayonnaise they serve at the Shake Shack down in Madison Square Park. You have not lived until you've waited on a two-hour line for one of those things. (Sorry, vegetarians.)

Comfy shoes.
Good coffee.
Opposable thumbs. (Go ahead and try it if you don't believe me.)
My laptop.
Free time.
Groundless optimism.

Who told the first "that's what she said" joke.

And whether his buddies just responded with a bewildered eye roll: "That's what who said? I don't get it.... We were talking about that sandwich shop down the street and all of a sudden you've got this woman out of nowhere who enjoys their foot-longs and.........

"Ohhhh, I see. Cause it's, like, dirty if you take it out of context. Well, that was a perfectly good waste of two minutes I'll never get back. Don't you ever tell that joke again, Todd."

...up for anything, or — just as good — nothing.

I've never called anyone "sir" or "ma'am" and I bristle when someone calls me "sir." I like to think I'm a little cooler than those stuffy old-timey conventions.

Honestly, I can't think of any good reason not to message me.