29 Oceanside, United States
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My self-summary

(!)Read Before Continuing(!)

The profile below this statement is long. Take a moment to scroll down and look. If you are looking for something more succinct, then most of what you are probably looking for can be found in the "You should message me if" section at the bottom of this page, and *I strongly suggest skipping to that.* Alright then. I wrote all this in bits and pieces over the time I've been on here. Some parts are entertaining. Other than that, I promise nothing. By reading on you agree to the following:

Any and all opinions generated as a result of reading the contents of this profile, its individual components, or any combination thereof is the sole responsibility of the individual reader, their perspective, and/or any drugs, prescription or otherwise, of which said reader may or may not be under the influence. By continuing to read the profile written below this statement, you, the reader, agree to release the individual represented thereby from all liability for any damages or discomfiture, real or imagined, experienced by you or any parties observing with or near you. Side Effects of reading this profile may include: Irritability, facial spasms, irregular breathing, cynicism, uncontrollable eye-rolling, feelings of depression, feelings of comparative superiority, and/or the occasional halfhearted chuckle. If symptoms persist longer than one hour, close your browser and consult a psychiatrist. No purchase necessary. See stores for details.


Right, so, formalities and questionably binding legal agreements aside, the following is my best approximation of me:

Born in July of 1987, I came into the world at the tail end of what was arguably the most confused decade in American history. Nestled uncomfortably between the drugged haze of the 1970's and the pop-culture overdose of the 1990's were the 80's, when clothing was brightly colored and obnoxious, the music industry enjoyed a brief and deeply regrettable fling with synthesizers, and Glenfiddich was preparing the batch of scotch which I will drink on my 30th birthday. The cold war was just wrapping up, but those pesky terrorists were making a lot of noise over in that ancient, sun-scorched shithole they've been fighting over since time immemorial, so nobody really knew what to make of the new status quo. It was appropriate, then, that my first experience after being brought home from the hospital in the loving arms of two caring parents, the world new, its problems not yet known, was that my older brother should proceed to punch me and sit on my head. It added a sort of awkward symmetry to the experience of joining a family. Good and Bad intermingled to give a young me a fairly accurate, if somewhat difficult to understand at the time, perspective on the world:

A place filled with loved ones and assholes.
What I’m doing with my life
Doing my best to enjoy it, working on my career, whittling time away on my hobbies, and being gnawed at by the growing suspicion that bachelorhood isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I also devote the occasional evening to scrolling through this dating website and passing the time by what I can only describe as "the internet equivalent of people watching" while I try to find someone with a personality that seems to be complementary to my own (and vice versa, of course). Jung seems to support my pursuit of either an ENTJ or an ENFJ, so there is that, but mostly I just look for people who actually put enough effort into their profiles to make them worth reading.
I’m really good at
I write a little. It's a hobby. People say I'm not horrible. I've yet to make anyone's eyes bleed or cause any serious emotional or psychological damages that I know of. (See above disclaimer)
The first things people usually notice about me
I would like to think that it's the silky smoothness of my voice. Since, however, I'm not altogether likely to talk to people without a pressing need to do so (i.e.: "Look out! A bear!" or "Oh God! I'm being mauled by a bear!"), the world may never know.

Maybe that I'm short for my height? It's not all that bad, really. Public transportation has always been relatively comfortable. I rarely have to duck, and I fit very nicely in most overhead storage.

Hm. How about that I'm a solid 6.5 out of 10 as reviewed by a panel of anonymous sorority sisters and one dude with a lisp who I think just snuck in?
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Obligatory Long-Ass List Follows:

Books: Dune, White Fang, Call of the Wild, The King Killer Chronicles (so far), Robinson Crusoe, The Count of Monte Cristo, Ender's Game, Starship Troopers, War of the Worlds, The Time Machine, The Song of Ice and Fire series (until George R.R. Martin kills off all of his remotely likable characters), The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (except for the last book), Hard Luck Hank (all of them), The Hobbit (the rest of the series was alright, but I wasn't all that enthused), the Hunger Games, Confessions of a D-List Supervillian, etc.

Movies: Lucky Number Slevin, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, City of Ember, V for Vendetta, Wreck it Ralph, Zombieland, Stranger than Fiction, The Man of La Mancha, Die Hard. This is a sample of the sorts of things I like in movies. Movies like these, in general.

Shows: Firefly, Archer, Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood, How I Met Your Mother (ended poorly, but the early stuff was good.), Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and the first two seasons of Misfits (British).

Music: Anything but rap or country. Those two genres make my skin crawl. Ironically, I can sing Kenny Rogers' version of "The Gambler" pretty well. Old/classic rock and roll is preferred, but I listen to a lot of different music. "Eclectic" (seems to be a word people like to throw around on here...). That said, my absolute favorite song is Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns n' Roses.

Food: I can eat almost anything - a result of my mothers earlier culinary experimentation as she learned to feed her growing brood. She's a great cook now. Going home for holidays doesn't come with the risk of food poisoning anymore, but those early years forced me to develop a sturdy dietary constitution in order to survive. I love Italian, Chinese is a staple, and I generally like the things I cook myself. I would like to eat healthier foods, if possible, but the ingredients are usually a lot more expensive. I do what I can.
The six things I could never do without
*The Countdown*

NUMBER 6: Coffee!

Once, long ago, in the mists of prerecorded History (pre-college) there was a time when I did not use coffee to propel myself through the day. I remember this, though dimly. The wonders of coffee are many, I know, but I cannot shake the feeling that before the advent of this organic propellant, there was something else. A sort of happiness that stemmed from some other source of energy. I cannot remember what this was, but sometimes, as I stare ahead at the coming work week with jittery, caffeine powered omniscience, I think it may have been a thing called "sleep."


I heard once that some people have an innate sense of direction. I am not one of those people. For Christmas a couple years ago my father bought me one of those Garmin GPS things for my car - I call her Sheila - but before this I was left to my own devices. A trip anywhere that I hadn't driven at least a dozen times before was guaranteed to get me lost, and not just, "oops I took a wrong turn" lost, but "I'm reasonably sure they shouldn't be speaking this language here/Did I cross a timezone?/What year is it?!" lost.

NUMBER 4: Literature!

I have to have something to read. Don't get me wrong, there have been dry spells where I went without for a while, but when this happens there is always a relapse. I go a year without a good book, and the next thing you know I've walled myself in with a stack of dusty tomes, reading with bloodshot eyes, and muttering to myself. Any attempt to excavate me from my papery tomb results in me, like Moses at Mount Sinai, raining suggested reading down on any poor, unwary fool who comes within throwing distance.

NUMBER 3: Procrastination!

I know this one might seem a bit strange, but this has become such a central pillar of who I am that I think, should I actually attempt to be proactive, the fabric of space and time would be rent asunder. A black hole would take my place, and all of reality would be consumed by its gaping maw.

NUMBER 2: Family!

As I mentioned before, my family moved a lot during mine and my siblings' formative years. Because of this, we filled for each other a good number of the rolls often filled by extra-familial acquaintances. We were bullies, and we were rivals. We were confidants and co-conspirators, instigators and arbiters. We were good influences and we were bad, and in the end, through the stalwart efforts of two determined and amazing parents who decided with saintly patience not to smother us in our sleep, we were the best friends we'd ever have.


NUMBER 1: Faith!

I find it hard to believe that anyone can make it through the day without faith in a benign God. Knowing that I am a tiny speck hurtling through a hostile universe on an insignificantly larger tiny speck without the assurance that comes with the love of an almighty God would very certainly take the pleasure out of damn near anything. And even though my fellow man tries desperately to shake my faith with such spectacles as Black Friday shankings and Honey Boo Boo children, I maintain that belief is a choice, and I chose 8 lb. 6 oz. baby Jesus.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Why people do some of the stupid things we do. Why I've personally done some of the stupid things I've done. How I could or if I even should attempt to not repeat those stupid things. What I could possibly do with my life other than my current, half-baked plans. How great or how terrible that last book/movie/episode/thing-I-did-on-a-whim was.

I do occasionally think about what sort of old man I want to be, as well. Sometimes I think "crazy old prospector on a senile quest for undiscovered gold in his back yard" and other times I think "crazy old man with the scary house and the unreasonably large but very likely arthritic dog." It varies.
On a typical Friday night I am
Riding the Earth around the Sun.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
My role model is Alonso Quixano.
You should message me if've actually read this whole thing, and for some strange reason you still feel compelled to do so. (Or if you took my initial advice and skipped to this section.) In that case, knock yourself out champ.


So here are some other things that may or may not be relevant:

I might "like" you. As in I may press the "like" button, but then never send a message. This might come across as somewhat confusing, so I'll go ahead and explain. I press like if, after reading through your *entire* profile, I end up feeling like you're pretty great all around. However, I typically won't send a message if, even though I enjoyed what you had to say, I don't really have much to say about it. It happens. I also won't send anything your way if, while reading your essays, questions, and general information I come across anything that indicates that you wouldn't want me to: "Near Me" when I'm not; Age Ranges I'm outside of; Height Requirements I'll never measure up to (*ba-doom-pish*); etc. You are welcome. After all, getting a message can be a little stressful, can't it? Do you respond? Do you not? Is it rude to just ignore it? But a little notification that some random person liked your profile? It feels good, right? That, and most people aren't on that A-List thing, so it is effectively anonymous. That being the case, if I like your profile and you can trace it back to me, please don't read too much into it. I just wanted pay a compliment without it being misinterpreted as some corny pick up line.

(Trust me, if I want to send a corny pick up line, then I will send a message with a corny pick up line).

In closing, while I would like to find the person who fits this odd puzzle piece of mine, I'm in no rush. That being the case, I think, if anything, we should start as friends. if we're the right sort of people for one another, most everything else will work itself out.

Here is how this is going to go if I contact you: I'm probably only going to send you one message at a time. If I don't get a response, or if we're talking and the conversation stops, then I'm not going to hold it against you, I promise, so please don't feel obligated to answer. The only thing I will think at that point is that you have a firm grasp on what you're looking for, and you've identified that it's not here. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this.

*You afford me the same courtesy, and we'll all get along just fine.*

I hope this profile at least made you crack a smile, and best of luck out there.