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I grew up in a very small town in upstate NY (the birthplace of Jell-O); went to college in New England; then migrated with a dozen classmates to SF. We're all still close, good friends.
I do my best thinking while in motion; I take long walks. Sitting and staring out the window, as I'm doing now, doesn't quite work.
In addition to my ridiculous charm, intelligence, good looks, and sexual prowess, I'm a very private person. I don't last long in noisy crowds; I've been told I'm quite appealing one-on-one, however.
How 'bout this:
-I can cook chicken and not dry it out. Usually.
-I know how to properly use semicolons
-I routinely put the toilet seat down
Because I edit books for a living, I don't do movies well. Stories take time to unfold. A rockin' soundtrack does not equal a good movie. (Frankly, the same can be said for cooking with butter.)
Music = jazz. Mostly. Although, listening to Beethoven's sixth the other day drove me to distraction. I was a heavy metal kid in high school, have been laid flat by the blues, have flirted with new country. I absolutely do not understand pop.
Food = anything that isn't moving on the plate. Sushi. A martini and raw oysters. A steak (rare, please). Fried in butter, no; sauteed with a little extra-virgin olive oil, absolutely. I'm philosophically undecided about organic. On the one hand, I'm all for it. But let's be honest--What did they DO to that organic asparagus to get it to me? Did they nestle it against the breast of a virgin and sing to it? Or did they perhaps wrap it in god knows what and bathe it in truck exhaust? Just sayin'.
A good steak
mind-numbing, eyes-crossing sex (yes, I said that out loud)
. . .
(uh, hang on. I'm a bit distracted)
I've noticed that many of you ladies have had professional photos taken. Makes me wonder if I should do the same. Tell me, please.