Movies: It's a Wonderful Life, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Singin' in the Rain, The Philadelphia Story, Lawrence of Arabia, The Matrix, Young Frankenstein, The Producers (original).
Music: both Mozart and bad Europop 80s dance remixes are in heavy rotation on my iTunes. The next four tracks on my most-played list: I-Nine, 7 Days of Lonely; Bowling for Soup, Friends Like You; Julie Murphy, Operator; Frenzal Rhomb: You Need A Friend.
2. Starbucks. Jeez, just look at my username. It's not just the coffee, it's a convenient work environment wherever I happen to be. I'm on a first-name basis with baristas in several states.
3. A pack of smokes and a vat of coffee. Yes, I'm addicted to nicotine and caffeine. Yes, I know it's not good for me. We all have our ways of bumping up our endorphin production, and these are some of mine. And I am quite able to temporarily forego the above when given sufficient incentive, such as an endorphin-inducing nonsmoking romantic interest who prefers her date not smelling like an ashtray.
4. One good book, with another to follow when that's done.
5. One good friend, randomly chosen from a large rotating pool, for good conversation on a semiregular basis.
6. My gray, beat-to-hell fedora. I prefer to think that it makes me look like Cary Grant. I'm kidding myself.
Mid-July 2010: I am horrified to read on the OKC blog that men add two inches to their height. So, the complete truth: I am *not* 5'5". Would I lie and say 5'7"? Hell, might as well say 6'2", and then only meet women in poorly lit places which are stilt-friendly. "He was a really nice guy, but *damn*, what was up with his ankles?"
January 2011: *second* edit, as I apparently am giving the impression that I only like children in a nice Béarnaise sauce with a side of leafy greens. I expect to have kids someday, but that's increasingly up in the air. I get along fine with my friends' kids, who are uniformly intelligent and sweet and well-mannered. Until three minutes ago, I said "dislikes children" in the sense of "likes dogs, unfond of cats, not thrilled with screaming brats being ignored by their parents." I have changed this to "—", which means now most of you will assume I have three kids living in a trailer in North Carolina.
If you are short, cute, highly energetic, and completely incompatible with me, then you are probably my type based on past experience.