I'm a music-making, dog-owning, feminist physicist yankee transplant to the deep, Louisiana south. I am pretty opinionated and outspoken. I get called "aggressive" both by people who like me and people who don't. I make friends really easily. I make unfriends pretty easily, too. I think puns are the highest form of comedy. My dog's name is Charlie Barker. I love the snow, but think it's really unfortunate that it seems to always be accompanied by the cold. So, I guess I like the concept of snow. I like being inside and enjoying the snow outside and not being cold and I'm probably drinking scotch. I love single malts.
Dogs love me. I can't help it. It's probably some kind of pheromone, or maybe just the way I smell.
I love food. I survive on coffee. I hate cigarettes. I love that Louisiana always has live flowers growing. I hate that Louisiana air sometimes feels like being underwater. I like recopying my notes onto fresh paper. I like freshly cleaned sheets. I like mismatched socks. I am not really big on quinoa or kale. I love karaoke. I'll probably like my dog more than I like you for a pretty long time. Maybe forever.
I also do gigs with a swing band on occasion.
I travel a lot; as a physicist, as a girl living far from her family, and as my musical alter-ego.
Packing lots of things into two carry-ons.
Eating. I think I've made this basic survival skill into an art form.
Meeting dogs - they love me, I love them, and everything just works, you know?
The Immortals Quartet (Tamora Pierce) - these were the first books I remember reading fully on my own. I could read at the normal ages expected for these things, but it was so much more convenient to make my sister do it for me. She read me The Song of the Lioness quartet, and then my mom forbade her to read to me just as we started the Daine series, I think. So, I read them on my own! I reread them every year or two, just to remember how much I love/d them.
The Thief of Time (Terry Pratchett) - I love Pratchett, and I have read almost every book he’s written (within Discworld and without). Like every Terry Pratchett novel, Thief of Time is a healthy balance in current affairs, history, sardonic humor, general silliness, and a deeply important, universal underlying message. The message in ToT just happens to be one I especially needed to hear when I first read it.
The Tao of Pooh (Benjamin Hoff) - I like to read books with a religious/life-philosophy bent, because they often have really beautiful and poetic interpretations of the human experience. Hoff’s Tao of Pooh is an adorable exploration of Taoism through the lens of Winnie-the-Pooh, and managed to make me laugh and think and see things differently.
Siddartha (Hermann Hess) - Another religious story. After reading a bunch of its different tellings, I find the story of Siddartha Gautama both profound and profoundly disappointing. It made me think a lot about love and the connections we make with others, and did a lot to keep the ol’ religion out of me.
Lamb (Christopher Moore) - Yet another religious story. Lamb is the gospel according to Biff, Christ’s childhood friend. It’s a really sweet and humorous coming-of-age story, except that one of the two people coming-of-age is the Messiah and the other is a bit of a hormonal dope. It’s also a story that connects loads of world religions in a probably-not-realistic-but-awfully-compelling way.
Slaughterhouse Five (Kurt Vonnegut) - Every single word in this novel has purpose. I have never read another book that is so dense with intent. Usually, I get a sense of being filled up when I finally close a book - my head is huge, my chest is puffy with air, and I just want to laugh until I cry because it’s over and it was so good. I slurped up every word in Slaughterhouse Five, expecting that tasty full feeling at the end. Instead, when I read that last, completely meaningful/less question, it felt like a fishhook was jerking a little chunk of my heart out.
The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) - The beginning of my feminism? Certainly the first time I thought about reproductive rights, and my body, and the interplay between my ability to make life and those people out there who feel it’s my responsibility to make it.
Me Talk Pretty One Day (David Sedaris) - David tells the story of living as a marginalized person who isn’t exactly warmly and openly accepted by his family in a way that seeps some of the pain out and makes things funny and human and lovely. One of the many people who helped me learn how to make people laugh when I share stories about things that have made me cry.
Sailing Alone Around the Room (Billy Collins) - Okay, technically this is a book of poetry, but I think it counts. I think I own (stored in my house and in others’) probably half of his anthologies, but this one holds the most poems that have stuck with me longest. I gave it to an ex for Valentine’s Day, and then I took it with me when I left him.
Kushiel’s Legacy - Phedre Trilogy (Jacqueline Carey) - This is a fantasy series that gave me a really simple way to reassess how I felt about sex and love. No better way to shake that ol’ Puritanical New England upbringing!
Music:: I'm all ears.
Shows:: Honestly, mostly animated. Can't get enough of Steven Universe, right now, and what the fuck happened to Season 3 of Bravest Warriors?!?!!?!!?
things that smell nice just for the sake of smelling nice
soft, cuddly, baggy things I can curl up inside
books - both ones filled with stories and ones filled with crosswords/number puzzles
Who framed Roger Rabbit, tho?
How does the air hold so much fucking water it could pass as a bathtub?
Why would someone write the thing that person wrote earlier that pissed me off?!?!! Why am I still thinking about it? Should I shower, so I can come up with the brilliant response I should have come up with when they first wrote it?
Secretly, I also like cats, but few people ever see me express interest in cats, because it makes me feel like I am somehow betraying all dogs, ever.
It can be a haiku. It can be a sonnet. It can be a limerick. It can be whatever you want, as long as it's original. Make me laugh. I'll respond in kind.
After the formal exchange of poem ritual takes place, we can carry on with the regular junk.
If you're going to be weird and passive-aggressive, or neg me, or some other creepy, male-entitled bullshit you can move right along. I've had enough of that in my life, thank you very much.