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okaytacos

36 Chicago, IL Woman

Woman

I’m looking for

  • Everyone
  • Ages 35–54
  • Near me
  • For new friends, long-term dating, short-term dating

My Details

Last Online
Yesterday – 10:03pm
Orientation
Bisexual
Ethnicity
White
Height
5′ 7″ (1.70m)
Body Type
Curvy
Diet
Strictly vegetarian
Smokes
Sometimes
Drinks
Often
Drugs
Never
Religion
Atheism
Sign
Virgo, but it doesn’t matter
Education
Graduated from university
Job
Technology
Income
$20,000–$30,000
Relationship Status
Single
Relationship Type
Mostly monogamous
Offspring
Doesn’t have kids, and doesn’t want any
Pets
Likes dogs and has cats
Speaks
English (Fluently), Russian (Okay), Sign Language (Poorly), Spanish (Poorly)

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My self-summary
Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
In how many words or less?

Utter goofball; unapologetic, serene, and sincere in the manner which my senses partake of the world at large. But I never stop thinking, never never, and the gears are always churning and observing and taking my own self far too seriously.

I like to think myself equal parts beer-swilling homemaker; reflective, considerate, mindful hedonist-of-sorts; and an actual grown-up, I can't deny it. Beer goes with baking unequivocally (unless it's a quickbread cinnamon roll, then I get coffee), I'm honest to a fault and/or infuriating degree if you keep asking me shit, and I dutifully do the dishes and buy vegetables and clean the catbox and will (almost certainly) eventually get a Real Job. Unless I can find a way out of it (which goes only for that last one).

There is potential for growth within the discomfiture of change, which I like to think I'm approaching with a good pair of shoes and a healthy attitude. And possibly a slight buzz.

Also: ridiculous amounts of attention to detail. By now I simply cannot help it.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
Getting better at it, I like to think.

Living it without scrimping on the basics, which include but are not limited to decent bourbon, food cooked by my hot little hands in my hot little kitchen, toys to play with and books to keep me smart, and all my damn fabric.

Occasionally indulging in uncontrollable rants against fucking aviator sunglasses and wondering alternately gently and vitriolically why most people dress themselves like goddamn sloppy jerks all the time. Yes this precludes my own bias inasmuch as all⋆stars and my ridiculous o.p. hoodie will always be acceptable on days off and for dicking around, but I like to think I can dress myself to not look like some fucking wanker mindless college student all the goddamn time and I would wish for you to do the same.

Thinking some about what I want to do with the rest of it.
Mouth-breathing when I add too much spicy to the red beans and rice.
Pretending to sew.
Actually sewing.
Flapjack-flipping between big things and little things.
Feeling more about science than I have since I was in about the fourth grade.
Not practicing other languages enough.
Daydreaming about ice cream.
Ironing dutifully.

I am fortunate (or overeducated/navelgazing/conscientious/mentally diligent/self-absorbed) enough to have experienced some of those elusive Perfect Moments in my life so far: I humbly try to be one of those people who keeps [her] eyes open for their potential, wherever they might end up.

Also giving my cats garbage to play with and calling it enrichment: yer [semantics] are huge! (ref: 3F04, which I can just add to the pile of random Groening references that no one ever, ever catches). And I was gonna allude slightly to how I'm all confused about how many people in this medium never write me back, but I may have just answered that question huh?
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
marinating tempeh; baking cakes and shit; petting the cat (not code); petting the cat (totally code); spending gobs of time ironing seam allowances; laughing at myself; making manhattans; sleeping.

Approaching the acme of rough 'n' tough buttercream: it's like the brief plateau that exists between velocity girl and electric wizard. You'll just have to trust me that it does, in fact, exist.
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
flat felled seams; stray cat hairs; my impeccable taste in footwear and sunglasses; possibly my stink-eye.

Which is to say, these are the things I wish people first noticed about me. Let's be honest, it's the quart of sangria I'm twin-packing in a Foam Dome.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
Dino Jr's cover of just like heaven is pretty much the best fucking thing ever. Ditto Carla Bozulich and salty red cabbage and a pinot noir that doesn't suck. Also screaming is fine, but Black Francis is a pain in my ass lately and Michael Gira will WIN fucking all the time.

I'm a sucker for both a challenge (Gogol' and Emil Jannings, horizontally slicing a genoise for petit fours, pattern matching up to and including uneven plaids) and easy fluffy nonsense (Disorderlies and hot tamales, kitschy candle holders, pb&j), with an undeniable need to indulge in occasional bits of the slightly raunchy (more Frank/less Dweezil Zappa, RTX, Lust in the Dust).
You know, a healthy mix.

I'm still flexing my muscles toward being a pedant because there are some benefits therein, and human perspicacity tends to travel in cycles after all. I believe the alternative to actively pursuing well-roundedness is basically being a git*, which I'm not into. But really, it's stuff I did in high school and college, and then the other stuff that I wish I'd done in high school and college. I'm not a one-trick pony, I'm just an older imprint, not-very-strayed-from catalog of tricks that I'm fighting against becoming too dogeared.
*not to be confused with The Gits.

I sort of want to proclaim my affinities for some amalgam that might be cubed into moody sugar, but that just makes me think of blueberry bubblegum which must be pretty awful.
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
Coffee and beer, books and fabric, solitude and culture.
Possibly Glenn Danzig, because I'd be sad if I couldn't ever listen to Hybrid Moments ever again.
Oh and qualifiers: because hello, have you read any of this shit so far?
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
Why I'm so hesitant to leave the house; whether I'm immature and swivel-necked or cautious and awesome; whether it's feasible to make my own needleboard for pressing velvet; what manner of ambrosia comprises that 50mm lens for my yashica fx-d quartz.

Also, you know, everything else. I was just thinking, hey I think I'm only two degrees removed from Richard Butler and then I thought about Frigyes Karinthy and then I looked for this book I
[used to]* have and then … wait are you kidding me? I unloaded Journey Round My Skull when I moved?! what the hell is WRONG with me! Sometimes I'm such a stupid asshole.
*spoiler alert.
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
Maybe sewing, maybe drinking, maybe watching futurama for about the hundredth time; probably all three.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
I wonder if I might be too self-righteous and defensive for an end that I actually desire. Spiral point downward and ... go!
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
You have a need to hear me talk about apparel sewing; you want to compare Edith Head tattoos and watch old movies and get all goosebumps at expressionist techniques; you're not afraid of either one or the both of us being actual humans; there are things you can persuade me toward.

Just don't be a total wankfest. I'd tell you to try and keep up because my brain can move at a frenetic and occasionally quick-cadenced pace, but upon greater consideration I'm kind of a slow burner. So maybe nevermind that one.

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