I'm the oldest son of an endocrinologist and an english teacher and I have two younger sisters. Between ages 1 and 4 I lived in Rhode Island while my dad completed his fellowship at Brown. My parents tell stories from that time of taking me on long walks by the shore and how the docs and their young wives would hang out together by the ocean, drinking, getting ice cream (with jimmies), goofing around. I recently walked around our old neighborhood with my parents -- it's beautiful, in the dilapidated New England way, and it's a little sad.

My favorite question from the time I learned to talk was "Why?" I actually listened to the answers. My parents were saintly in their patience with me. I read about 2 books a week between ages 5 and 11, when I began to think being smart wasn't cool (and, hilariously, really wanted to be cool). My ambitions from that time ranged from wanting to be an "international lawyer" (what?) to a "scientist" to some sort of spy. I composed a play and put it on for my third grade class (though the teacher stopped it midway through when I used the word "crap"). I won the young authors' competition in second through fifth grade and "citizen of the year" and the spelling bee (lost at district on "xenophobia").

In middle school I became sort of an asshole: taunting teachers and other students and generally affecting a nihilistic facade. Although I'd been an atheist for awhile, I got vocal about it. Parents received worried calls. I was forced to sit in the front of classes so I could be kept a close eye on. My grades, previously perfect, were no longer so. My social standing increased inversely. I burned things, forged autographs on baseball cards (and then sold them), snuck out. You get the picture.

High school continued apace. Became even more disengaged with academics, but still got some recognition on that front. When me and the other 5 national merit scholars introduced ourselves during a Friday night football game and were asked our career aspirations, I said I wanted to be a shepherd. Had some marvelous teachers who tried to rescue me from this pose. But I preferred to make movies, take pictures, smoke cigarettes, write poems, read existentialist philosophy, give speeches to class that were apparently factual but actually false, more sneaking out, parties, joining and quitting athletic teams, skulking around in the dark, running from cops, "borrowing" parents' cars, reserving any sincere profundity for three a.m. swing sets with a few people in the fog.

Went to college at a state school (partly because I didn't want to be with my parents long enough for college visits). Started as a philosophy major and writing scholarship recipient (the only cool part of which was that I got to design an independent study with any professor on any subject -- I chose cinema studies, and looked at the way Italian neo-realism influenced the French new wave that, in turn, influenced modern independent filmmakers -- thrilling). But soon stopped going to class altogether. I probably attended 5% of classes throughout college, but still managed to graduate in just over 4 years with a reasonable GPA. The only classes I attended, loved, and did really well in were fiction and poetry writing. Occasionally teachers would read a paper and meet with me to ask "Who are you?", wanting both a literal (they didn't know me) and figurative answer (where did you get these ideas). Ended up a psych major. Participated in running some experiments on cooperation and competition (see Axelrod's "The Origin of Cooperation"). Resumed reading and self-study in earnest. Discovered David Foster Wallace, who I felt like was my intellectual brother (RIP). Read Infinite Jest in one crazy, sprawling, caffeine infused, 36-hour period of orgiastic intellectual delight. Delivered pizza for years, during which time I listened to audio lectures and language learning tapes (funny that I'd ditch class to attend other class -- never said I was rational). I also listened to mix tapes my friends sent me. I get goose bumps thinking about tearing around my college town with hot pizza in tow blaring "Carry the Zero" by Built to Spill and realizing, right then, that if I was not careful, I would indeed become a fraction of a sum, the middle and the front. And that maybe I already had.

Continued delivering pizza for a semester after college ended. Played chess all the time at a nearby coffee shop, and discovered poker. Eventually moved back to my parent's house and started working at a book store. It was my first experience with retail, and it scared the shit out of me. This was hell. Then worked at the attorney general's office in Chicago and found out that the law was interesting and something for which I had some facility. I took the GRE and LSAT and did well on both. I was still vacillating between going to grad school for something -- which I now, way too late, realized was necessary to get a job I didn't hate (my initial plan was to drive trucks cross country and write novels -- seriously) -- or to law school when I was accepted to a good law school in the city. My girlfriend at the time lived here, and, as I was pretty smitten, that sealed it.

We broke up partway through my first year, and I lost moorings. Law school was easier than I expected, but again, for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to try too hard. I became interested in law and economics. I took a mathematical methods of decisionmaking class at the b-school and got the highest grade. Mathematical certainty was refreshing after the verbal circumlocutions that constitute legal "truth." I planned out a way to program a judge that could decide battery cases based on an evolutionary algorithm. My torts prof said I was either a genius or a lunatic, but probably both. Started getting disillusioned with everything in a serious way. Kept reading a lot. Got into music more, going to shows at the Empty Bottle. I did not interview for any jobs because the only thing I wanted to do was to be a public defender.

Graduated in 2005, literally .01 away from honors. I only realized honors were possible when I started my third year, so I got 6 A+s but it was not enough. Took awhile for the PDs office to get back to me. I was making a living at the time through online poker. It was surprisingly hard work. My first interview with the pds office went well. Then months passed. My lenders got nervous, then annoying. I started frantically sending resumes out. Landed an interview at a very prestigious firm, but, when asked "Why do you want to work at X?" I honestly answered "There is no particular reason, I just want to solve really interesting problems." Eventually landed a job at a smallish boutique firm in 2006, where I've been since.

Law, reading, playing chess, learning math, trying to keep a tiny kernel of my true self intact for later use. Still asking "Why?" forty times an hour.

Learning, arguing, thinking, not doing.

Basically these are random.

Books: Infinite Jest; Ulysses; The Gold Bug Variations; The Sound and the Fury; Where I'm Calling From; The Brothers Karamazov; Master and Margarita; Speak, Memory; Godel, Escher, Bach; Napoleon: A Political Life.

Movies: Barry Lyndon; Aguirre: Wrath of God; Annie Hall; Dead Man; The Godfather II; 400 Blows; Metropolitan and Magnolia (although I feel embarrassed about these for some reason); Rushmore; Wings of Desire.

Music: Velvet Underground; Pixies; The Smiths; Elliot Smith; Neutral Milk Hotel; Wilco; Bach; Cat Power; Rilo Kiley; Andrew Bird.

(1) problems to solve;
(2) books;
(3) running;
(4) the sense that I still have potential, and all is not lost;
(5) people who think a lot;
(6) freedom.

.01% profound stuff but mostly the boring half-thoughts that nobody admits to in this box but that make up 99.99% of what everyone thinks about: Here's a sample Sunday interior monologue: So what was I doing oh yeah wait oh am I hungry? no I don't know just o.k. I need to focus what the heck I'll just do the NYT crossword real quick it will be like an intellectual warmup that will actually help me write this report so....o.k., maybe now I'll just read a LITTLE news because that's important, knowing what's going on, and seriously then I will for SURE (I'm SO SERIOUS) get right to work on this...what the? it's dark outside? oh man, well, now I should eat but if I do then I won't be able to run and if I don't run I surely won't be able to concentrate on this report so I'll just run 4 miles or so but wait what do I have to listen to? I wonder if there are new audiobooks that are cool? I wish Richard Powers' new book was on audio well what the heck I'll just download a few and listen to the first bits to see what's good... oh crap it's late now I'm starving guess I'll run in the morning and just get food now what to get o.k....

Doing what I'm doing.

You don't really want to but pretty much have to.