I went to school for a long time for the sole purpose of self-improvement and I have yet to recover. My hair grows very quickly. I hate being bad at things, like bowling, but I'll do them anyway if that's what we're doing. And if I happen to bowl a good game, it will make me really happy. I'll say "yay!" and clap my hands. I like to drink, but I hate being hung-over. I've gotten good at moderation. I read a lot. I am capable of making a really cute skirt, and I've only given myself food poisoning once. I mostly don't want to kill anybody…mostly. I think if I ever got in a fight I'd lose by crying from the emotional overload, but sometimes I fantasize a brilliant battle scene for myself.

I work as an "administrative specialist" which means I send a lot of emails to people who are too busy to read their emails. I also order the catering.

I'm reading a lot. Also Netflixing. Also HBOGo.

Most of the time, I'm keeping my unhelpful mean thoughts to myself. I'm developing a fondness for almost everyone I meet, but hating the faceless masses of stupid Unitedstateseans.

I'm paying attention.

I'm hurting my own feelings.

using public transportation.

I have a good sense of direction also.

The two are probably related.

Glasses, I guess?

Wallace Stevens, Louise Gluck, Philip Roth, Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Madeleine L'Engle, Philip Pullman, Tim O'Brien, J.D. Salinger, The Royal Tennenbaums, Rushmore, Me and You and Everyone We Know, The Lives of Others, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Annie Hall, Holiday, The Philadelphia Story, Swing Time, Roman Holiday, Spirited Away, Anchorman, Superbad, The (BBC) Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Louie, 30 Rock, Lyle the Intern on David Letterman, The Mountain Goats, Elliott Smith, Wilco, New York Dolls, The Buzzcocks, X, Nirvana, Radiohead, Dim Sum, real Ramen, Pho, Palak Paneer, Carnitas, Shrimp Scampi, Steak au poivre, pizza with green olives and tomatoes, tunnel of fudge cake

I just slightly updated my list after 3 years of being away from OKCupid. I am slightly concerned that it didn't really change that much.

Books, candy, movies, glasses, some daily contact with other humans, a few hours by myself.

I grew up in the L.A. area and it really bothers me when people say that everyone from L.A. is (insert negative stereotype here). Yeah, it's smoggy, yeah, there are a lot of vain douchebags, yeah, film industry, but c'mon, there are millions of people there. How can we all be bad?

I miss L.A. every time I see a scene in a movie shot on a smoggy day in front of an ugly strip mall.

But then, I miss Berkeley ever time I remember that millet muffin and cafe au lait I had the one time I visited there.

From the Greek: Nostos "return home" + algos "pain" = nostalgia = me.

***

un poison violent, c'est ça l'amour

Last Friday, I went to the Double Down Saloon which is a nice divey punk-rock bar on Swenson Road and listened to a band all the members of which were dressed in red jumpsuits and which sounded like they listened to all the bands the White Stripes listened to and then they listened to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and then they listened to the White Stripes and then they did a Buzzcocks cover. Then there was a rockabilly band. I fell in love with the guitar player/singer because he was playing guitar with a cigarette hanging nonchalantly out of his mouth. I'm a sucker for incredibly standard versions of "cool." Meanwhile, I drank Red Stripe then vodka sodas then vodka red bulls and bumped pinkies with my friend Johnny Cruz whenever either of us said something clever. Johnny Cruz later peed a little in my cat's litter box (to Johnny's credit, the cat box is right next to the toilet.) And then Johnny Cruz and his girlfriend went home and my roommate ordered a pizza. It was probably the hottest pizza I've ever had delivered in my life. It was so hot that we were still talking about it the next afternoon. And then I went to sleep. I do that every Friday night. Every single one. Without fail.

(God, this is such a lie now. I haven't seen Johnny in, like, 4 years. Neither of us lives in Las Vegas anymore. We aren't even Facebook friends. But if I saw Johnny tomorrow, I would absolutely do all of those things with him again.)

I wrote a poem called "Mustache Envy" and it was only kind of a joke.

And speaking of jokes, here is my favorite:
Knock knock.
Who's there?
The interrupting cow.
The interr--
MOO!

Je ne parle pas français.

you're perfect, but unaware of how perfect you are.

Or if you stole my bike and you want to give it back. Thanks.

But also, you probably shouldn't message me, because I don't think I'm actually really trying to meet someone. So if I don't message you back, that's why. Sorry!