I am whimsical as fuck. I'm not quite as delightfully bohemian as I once was. I like gothic aesthetics and hippie ideals. I like geeky diversions and nerdy stimulations, without the dorky lack of grace.
I am an atheist (though much like Fox Mulder, I want to believe), a pantheist, and a Unitarian Universalist. I am also a fairy princess. Luckily for me, technology sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from magic. Metaphysically.
I am fueled by love, unholy rage, and dissatisfaction.
I have an interesting relationship with self-esteem. Usually I think I'm pretty awesome. I might be more OK with myself than almost anyone. I have these bouts of low self-esteem stemming from my ridiculously high standards. I don't live up to my own expectations. Neither does anyone else. That is how I want it. (I also have bouts of horrible self-hatred, but those are due to my brain's hateful chemicals.)
I'm incredibly spacey and detached. I leave my head places despite the fact that it is attached to my neck. My mind wanders.
I hate puritans. I tend to blame things on puritans, but really, it's usually their fault.
My sense of humor contains equal parts pretentious academic references and cock jokes.
I am generally not monogamous because A)I have lots of feelings for lots of people, and it seems artificial for me to choose or ask someone else to choose, B)I don't like to commoditize people. I am super in love with my beloved spouse, and while we are hypothetically open, I am only looking for friends.