According to my personality thing, I am grossly arrogant compared to the general populace so I really just like talking about how great I am.
Update: Now that it does not reflect my incredible arrogance, it is just wrong.
Since Myers-Briggs seems to be popular, I'm a BAMF.
I realized later that I should have picked a lachrymator as a name.
I still remember The Spark.
I've been trying to get my friend to go to an Owl City concert so I can make fun of him for going to an Owl City concert. To be fair, people at my workplace were reminiscing about Dookie, so I asked him if he liked Green Day. He told me that he really liked American Idiot. He totally has it coming.
I like to get drunk and send insulting lowball offers to people on Craigslist.
In my work life, I spend my life wishing that the AMA Manual of Style didn't suggest thin space characters that aren't included in Word and worrying about significant figures.
I was looking through an abandoned laptop and found a folder named "Pornography". It was full of PDFs of cell signaling pathways.
I also once wanted longingly to browse Petfinder while watching something on my day-to-day laptop so I booted up the abandoned laptop to find that the browser windows that I left open months earlier were also Petfinder.
The construction of "wanted longingly to browse Petfinder" bothers me, but I'm not going to split an infinitive.
Pocket sand! Sh-sh-sha!
Crafting unappealing OKCupid profiles.
Channeling Charles Preuss.
Look, I am not going to bother listing all media ever consumed, with at least part of the list being required high school reading. Rest assured that I probably have better taste than you.
I was part of a Weezer cover band which involved drinking, googled tabs, and belting Pinkerton out as loud as possible. I plan to pick up ukulele so I can contribute something more than cheap beer. As soon as I remember my ebay password.
Update: I got my ukulele, and I am terrible.
Update #2: I sold it for 2/3 the original cost because I was too terrible.
I consume an absolutely disgusting amount of TV because it's background noise to whatever I'm doing. I don't pay very much attention. As a result, I watch less serious, involved shows than I'd like. One time I had to rewatch an episode four times to have any idea what was going on because I was busy making fridge pickles.
There is a positive correlation between how much I hate you and how much you like The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
My favorite kinds of dogs have achondroplasia.
I learned everything I know from Loveline.
A good chef's knife.
Ice cream. Ice cream? Ice cream!
My smartphone. It's a great way to completely ignore someone in a social situation or to live tweet intercourse.
Salt. I regularly carry little packets in my purse.
Ghosts. The idea of ghosts. The idea of goats. Actual goats.
I am planning to buy glasses, and in preparation I googled around which led me to a Flickr group called "Asian Girls in Glasses" that somehow includes photos of white women, elderly Asian women, and normal Asian girls just doing life things on the street.
I want a dog!
Compared to Andrea Dworkin, I hate men twice as much, and I'm half as pretty.
I am also incredibly vain. I would love to raise a clone of myself because I was an exceptionally cute baby.
Pretty much everything about Soylent offends me.
There is a dating sim video game where you are a human girl who dates pigeons that I'd really like to play. Fuckin' sexy pigeons, strutting around with their sexy beaks and shit.
I keep my toenails painted so regularly that my unvarnished feet look kinda weird to me.
I have a vagina. Shhhhhhhhh. ~*secrets*~
I once installed an app to keep me from drunk dialing or texting by requiring me to do a math problem before unlocking. The result was a lot of drunk voice messages about how good I am at math.
I get way too many messages given my personality, and I get way too few messages given my looks.
But really, I'm just your sweet everyday girl. Down to earth and all that. Just like you, I put on my bra one boob at a time. Haha just kidding they fell off.
Don't worry, I'm this overly verbose in real life too!
You are Kristin Kish.
You're a man who will treat me like Kanye treats Kanye.
Your idea of a date doesn't involve me being cold at all.
You know your hyphens, minus signs, en dashes, and em dashes.
You will eat bone marrow with me.
You have any idea why my calamodin orange tree died all of a sudden but the dwarf Meyer lemon next to it is doing well. Seriously - what the hell?
You want to buy me a new set of drill bits.
You want to join the legion of men who message me about how hot I am while ignoring the complete lack of good photos.