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'm eldest of five; my parents are still together - consequently, I'm one of those who holds the romantic ideal of life long relationships. Growing up was all about regular camping/road trips, sit-down dinners every Sunday, and board/card games - played with such ferocious competition, that Genghis Khan would've paled.
I'm enamoured by the idea of extended family (that is, community) - all the world's problems could be solved if people were just nice and looked after each other. I went to a rather community orientated, alternative education school, which probably contributed to that. I have fantasies of a George Bailey-esque Christmas. Being an introvert, I tend to keep a select group of close friends, whom I care about a lot.
For work, I have a small consulting company, which I built with my PhD supervisors. This mostly involves creating statistical models of threatened species, bugs and houses burning down - it's frightfully sexy. My PhD was a hybrid of artificial intelligence and evolutionary biology. I love my work, but I'm more of a work-to-live, rather than live-to-work person.
I'm open/honest to a fault, think that communication is paramount in all relationships, and get on best with people who are like-minded in that respect. I'm something of an idealist, especially regarding relationships. The ideal relationship caters for emotional, mental and physical modes of connection (not just in the short term).
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.
Presently, as I stumble down the steps of the ivory tower, I'm looking to becoming something resembling a responsible adult (or, at least, feign an attempt at one), whilst maintaining a child-like open mindedness and idealism. This involves, at least two of: finding someone who will complain about my cooking and throw coffee cups at me; cracking the rent versus buy conundrum; and/or making a mess in the gene pool.
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. I certainly don't presume to be everybody's cup of tea. Rather than attempt a boast (really, it's not hard to spin gold from straw, when you've got an audience looking to be impressed), I prefer to ramble and let you decide.
I'm usually shy around strangers and am somewhat an introvert, that is, until I break some seal by blurting out something ridiculously personal about myself. After that, I'll happily run around under your garden sprinkler without any clothes! Online dating works well for me like that - I can get the confessional out of the way.
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 who's 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 - who's 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 didn't desire to sleep with men and I think about lady bits all the time (and then, of course, there's the prohibitive standards of hygiene, and all that dancing!). Turns out, I was just a little bit poofy. The politics of sexuality and gender 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 (sorry mum!) - I suppose this is a bit punk.
I could never do a picnic without brie.
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 a smiling 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.
That's not very specific, is it? I don't know, it's hard to describe an ideal partner, without meeting them first. Also, I'm aware, by indicating negative filters I'll deter those who are self critical, who may very well be the best for me. I'm pretty attentive to whatever details you've generously shared on your profile, and fairly confident in my intuitions (although, you never know until you meet). If I'm writing you, I'm most likely optimistic of a positive outcome (and I'd prefer it if you were also). To be honest, I'm far more concerned about you filtering me, but it doesn't pay to write some bland list of my flaws. Instead, I've attempted to put them here, spinning them like gold coins, so that they'll simultaneously bedazzle the person who is right for me, whilst deterring the one who isn't. My list of flaws is as long as my profile.
I currently reside in the hills - solo in Belgrave. Sometimes I put my location as Melbourne, in order to trick people into visiting, otherwise I tend to have more visitors from overseas (hello lovelies!) than my local city. If you don't know it, it's still in the same time-zone, and you don't need a passport (yet). My place is part of a heritage listed manor (built by the same family responsible for Montsalvat), which now houses a cafe. I live in one of the back buildings (pictured above), 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. This, I suspect, is likely a deal breaker for many inner city dwellers. On the other hand, you might be an Eastsider yourself, or fancy a lovely weekend house in the hills. I've held off buying a place (instead, squirrelling away my extra cash) until I feel more settled.
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, but in the meanwhile, I'm only interested in dating people who can tolerate this vice.
I find it easy to get overwhelmed on here and tend to be very selective about whom I write/respond to (I spend many a sleepless night worrying this makes me appear a jerk). However, I always appreciate a compliment (or smutty message); it'll be sure to make me grin. I don't think I've read a profile that didn't, at least, hint at a veritable treasure beneath the surface - a billion different alternative universes, where I made slightly different decisions - but, alas, time (and emotional energy) is finite. All that said, it's very attractive when a woman takes initiative - so yeah...
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. It takes more than a night to write something that reads like it was written in a night. If only I could be so articulate in person! 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.