But I have seen wolverines in the wild. Twice.
I'm powerfully average in some ways. I work in IT. I wear medium t-shirts and pants with a 32" waist. I find pot roast and potatoes immensely satisfying. I have a shoe shine kit. I go to the gym frequently enough to not be a fat ass, but not so often I actually look like it. I ride the train to work; I read the Economist. I smile at children. I am the 30 something white eveyrman.
What makes me rare: I have a soothing baritone that encourages people to take my words as fact, even when they're clearly not. If it's a task I have any ability for, I can learn very quickly. It makes me good at jobs. I saved a friend from drowning. A few jobs back, I cost an employer well over six figures and they didn't fire me. The second best vindaloo I've ever had is one I made.
New York is home.
That or the steely calm entitlement that comes from a certain type of private school upbringing.
Dirty Pretty Things, No Country for Old Men, Casino Royale.
QI, Top Gear, The Mind of a Chef, anything with David Attenborough
Almost everything Devin Townsend ever recorded, Lamb of God, scattered electropop.
All food. Has everyone here been to the Golden Mall in Flushing? Holy crap that place holds the absolute record for cost:deliciousness:variety.
And food. I spend way too much brainpower planning meals.
I have many friends, but there's a certain part of one's brain that only gets exercised when meeting new people and getting out of comfortable circles. I'd like to keep that sharp.