I suppose you've come to this page to find out about me - so I'll put aside that self-conscious feeling of overindulgence I get when I talk about myself and get on with it.
Where to start... I was born. Growing up was all about running amok in the forest, community-oriented alternative education, and orchestrating grand theatrical productions with my siblings and friends, whilst wearing a tea cozy on my head, with my cowlick sticking out the spout slit.
This gave way to more adult pursuits, and I built a small consulting company, with my PhD supervisors and colleagues - work that involves building statistical models of grass, bugs and houses burning down - it's frightfully sexy. My torturous thesis was a hybrid of computer science and evolutionary biology - creating artificial worlds in computers, so I could perform experiments on the inhabitants.
This online dating world particularly suits me, as I'm usually shy around strangers. That is, until I break some seal by blurting out something ridiculously personal about myself, after which, I'll happily run around under your garden sprinkler without any clothes!
To that end, I should say I'm ethical non-monogamous (poly). I'm open/honest to a fault, think that communication is paramount in all relationships, and endeavor to support those I care about to be their true selves.
I'm interested in, and value, all types of connections, be they platonic, romantic or sexual; fleeting or enduring - I have room for all.
I'm still in the process of recovering from the trauma of finishing a ridiculously overdue thesis. Seriously, what a fucker! I am, however, looking forward to the day when airline staff ask me to assist in an emergency amputation, because I insist on calling myself "Doctor" when checking in.
For some reason, I feel most liberated in my writing when being self-deprecating. I've got qualities which could be good or bad, depending on who you're asking. Rather than attempt a boast, I prefer to ramble and flourish my flaws; spinning them like golden coins, so they'll simultaneously bedazzle the ones who are right for me, whilst deterring the ones who aren't.
My unruly hair might be high on the list. I've given up on any pretension at styling, instead resigning myself to the sexy bed hair look (which sometimes works in my favour; sometimes not...)
I derive a lot of pleasure from films, books and music. A lot of smarter, artsy-fartsy stuff, but a good dose of faff as well. As for the twaddle I get all swoony groupie about, I'm a sucker for magical realism, story telling and personal confessions revelling in the awkwardness of human existence.
Boy, I love a beautifully crafted song lyric. It seems that most of the music I love is about heart break (and the inevitable sexual frustration that follows). Singers whose idea of romance is having a double-decker bus crash into yourself and loved one (such a heavenly way to die!). I used to love making mix tapes to woo would be romantic interests. Apparently the best tape I ever made was a break up tape...
In my younger, super impressionable, years, I was besotted by those crypto-homo glam rockers - Bowie, Iggy and Mercury - whose crotches make me question my sexuality. Oh, and the dirty Beat poet/writers, who had a penchant for injecting themselves with heroin and cock. I thought I might be gay for a while. Except I think about lady bits all the time - and then there's the prohibitive standards of hygiene, and all that dancing! Turns out, I was just a little bit poofy. The politics of sexuality, gender and relationships fascinate me. If I ever detect a hint of homophobia (or, more generally, sex negativity) in another, I'll quite maliciously let them believe I'm gay just to rile them - I suppose this is a bit punk.
I could never do a picnic without a tree.
I could never do a road trip without a daggy singalong.
I could never do a bicycle ride without a seat.
I could never do a date without an enthusiastic accomplice.
I could never do a philosophical discussion without a mildly addictive drink (actually, scratch that, I just need oxygen).
I could never do a question without breaking the rules.
I love sex: thinking about it; talking about it; doing it... Everything about it. I'm loath to say it so bluntly, but hopefully it dispels any "nice guy, therefore, not thinking about your crotch" ideas people might get from my profile. I don't know, I've met people who think stuff like that... Perhaps because I'm at pains to paint a picture of my emotional and mental credentials.
I don't really have anything specific that I'm hoping to find on here. I'm enamored by the idea of those romantic flings I had when I travelled the world - enjoying the connection for what it was, without expectation, and walking away with a skip in my step and smile that could only be removed with a jackhammer. I'm also available for more enduring things; I have a lot of love in my heart to give to the right persons. I'd also like to make new friendships; the thought of surrounding myself with fellow dingledodies, fills me with joy.
I currently reside in the hills - solo in Belgrave. My place is part of a heritage listed manor, which now houses a cafe. I live in one of the back buildings, in what used to be the mistress' apartment - which (scandalously) is connected via a secret door to the chapel. It's like a cross between Hobbiton, Hogwarts and Home. It's got all the hallmarks of a promising love shack, but it doesn't take much to impress me into travelling to the city for a date.
In case you missed it on the side, or had some search filter malfunction, I'm a smoker (and probably consume far too much coffee). I know... We're a sad lonely bunch aren't we? There was a time when it was cool and affordable (you, me and five bucks), nowadays, it's like confessing a venereal disease. I'm looking forward to the day I can remove this paragraph.
Well, that's it! Thank you for indulging me my little rant - I hope you enjoyed the show? It is a tad waffly, isn't it? Like a forlorn peacock, desperately strutting its stuff, I tried to put some thought and pizzazz behind it. That said, there's a fine line between a thoughtful profile and one that's in danger of disappearing up its own arsehole. So if you like my photos, in spite of all the jabber, you should send me a message.
p.s. Heads up, I can be somewhat sparing with sending messages. I usually only write people I'm confident I'll get along with - which generally means people with thoughtful profiles and question responses (I'm quite attentive!). If you're wondering why I haven't sent you a message, it's likely because of this. If you reckon we'd get on, you should say so! You can always send a probing message that says "macaroni". Or, better yet, tell me what speaks to you on my profile.