I like red wine, airports, cats & reading an actual newspaper.
I am the secret love child of Jean-Paul Sartre and Ally McBeal, with all of the attendant peculiarities.
OkCupid used to make you sum yourself up in three adjectives, for the benefit of those users too impatient to read an entire profile. For the record, I am intuitive, discerning, and analytical.
I sell dreams, you see.
I am the driving force behind two consumer-facing technology startups, only of one of which is funded, so it gets preferential treatment lately.
I finished grad school at the University of South Florida in 2010. I spent ten months out of the year working in East Africa hunting parasites in 2011 and 2012.
When I was in school I worked as a graphic designer at an ad agency and a clerk at an auction.
Before all that I served in AmeriCorps for two years.
being an INTP
This is not a low or self-deprecating standard. It is good to round out your rough edges. I have invested in that process.
- the light that hits the room
- control and experimental groups
- how to explain my job to people
- international development
- how the subjective experience of cognition would differ for us and other entities that I can metaphorically endow with some form of intelligence, like insect swarms and chess pieces. The bishop thinks the board looks like a diamond to you too, by the way.
Also, why is the artistic merit of a song inversely proportional to the euphoria produced by dancing to it at a club?
Let's use this section for Poem of the Week instead.
I am waiting for a plane to DC.
I am wearing a t-shirt with owls.
I have a sport coat on over it.
There was no room in my suitcase.
My back crackles with the strain
Of the last six months digging
Post-holes at Glen Lake Village,
Amalgam of suburban aspiration.
My hands tingle or go numb.
The man standing next to me
Has a designer breed puppy
On a pink leash at his feet.
This dog is enthralled, enraptured,
By abso-fucking-lutely every
Person in this terminal. Its eyes
Might soon explode. It pants.
The zone ahead of me is called.
Woman cradles her sleeping daughter
They have the exact same color hair.
I used to think that pain was a clarifier
But now I hope it will do more, I hope
It will keep me close to my senses,
I hope it will make me extra polite.
I hope it will keep me light-footed,
Even if the animating principle is fear.
Fear of the golden bolts that flash
Down my spine, fear of losing words.
I sit in 20B. My coat covers my lap.
Those golden bolts make it hard to
Look in any particular direction.
I don't feel light. I feel tired.
I tuck the phone in my pocket and
Hope now only for sleep.
"Without your wounds where would your power be? It is your melancholy that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men and women. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service, only wounded soldiers can serve.” - Thornton Wilder
I am not into being silly. I sometimes end up being silly anyway.
I refer to cities by their airport code. More people should do this.