i'm pretty good.

dividing my time between politely asking the entire universe to make sense of itself for me and conversely reveling in the fact that it doesn't matter. and sometimes i do weirdy movement / balance / dance experiments in my living room.

parallel parking, handwriting, drinking coffee, nuance, being married and still being fun and interesting, walking in high heels, losing my cell phone in my apartment

is that i tell my whole life story in my expressions, and i sometimes take interesting liberties with the english language.

the wire, modern family, so you think you can dance; 90s punk rock, hipster indie-pop (especially that shit that's happening right now that sounds like the beach boys on lithium), scissor sister; hedwig and the angry inch; the death and life of great american cities, the politics of public space, raw food cookbooks; tomato sauce, the perfect tirimisu, things with basil, vegetable juice.

i am really interesting, you guys.

my husband. he knows me and gets me and shows up for me and pushes me to be my True Authentic Self or whatever but doesn't do the work for me, dusts me off when i fall down and cheers for me when i get up. he gives me space to do me, because he knows exactly who he married, and he usually makes sure i eat dinner. seriously, that guy is awesome.

something to hang upside down from. sometimes i spend a considerable amount of time and energy pursuing upside-down-things; other times, i just need to knee-hang from a pull-up bar between meetings to get through a day. it's not luck that i work at a place where this is possible, it's a condition of my full-time employment—and it's not a always convenient requirement, i can tell you that.

shampoo. if i couldn't wash my hair, i couldn't have hair, and my forehead / nose combination does not support a buzz cut. despite a ferocious affinity for short-short-haired chicks that can pull it off with a fantastically juxtaposed doe-eyed softness, i concede that i myself am not among them. this is a limitation i am willing to work with, but it does make shampoo pretty mandatory.

a super-juicy medium-point black roller-ball ink pen. my weapon of choice is a black fine-tipped uniball vision classic, but if you loan me something that writes a fatter line or writes smoother in an uncoated-pressboard-covered spiral notebook, i will probably forget to give it back.

black lululemon leggings. i know that sounds super pretentious, and if it is, i will just have to own it because its true. i spend at least 4 days a week in these things, and they deal with all of my flailing and bonking into things and upside-down-ing and constant laundering and still make me feel just a little bit like a superhero every time i put them on. they're also a staple of my eccentric post-apocalypse art teacher aesthetic.

making out. holy crap, i love making out.

how to frame the problem, motivations and priorities of relevant stakeholders, steps to doneness, finding patterns in the entire fucking universe, my non-monogamous relationship and its various players and/or opportunities, interesting things to do with the intersections of movement, image-capture and performance

wishing i was better at planning for my social life

i might like you just a little better if you can work in a touch of D for my touch of s.

also, you should know that i struggle to appreciate facial hair. every now and then, someone shows up and makes it make sense, but for the most part i'm really not that into it. shrug. bad news for me, really, because it is fucking rampant lately.

you want to tell me your top 3 songs to fuck to lately.

you have a penchant for autonomy and communication, you have some experience with (or at least interest in) non-monogamy, you can separate the friendship from the sex but you really like both, you can understand that this is just a little something on the side but still respect and enjoy it for what it is, you love making out and / or drinking coffee.