Major fantasy is being a part of Warhol's Factory. Art, intellectuals, the Velvet Underground and amphetamines? Yes, please.
Love a chunky man with a beard. Basically, I'm into bears, but I prefer them to be straight.
I'm not boring. Please don't be boring.
Taking the dog on long walks. Reading good books (I write non-fiction, but I read mostly novels). Coveting nice clothes I can't afford; hoarding secondhand two-ply cashmere. I've been working intermittently on a hand-sewn quilt for about a year now. Also, cooking good things and freezing them in individual portions. Eating dollar oysters. Drinking wine and whiskey.
I get the New Yorker. Talk of the Town is my favorite, but I also love reading 10,000 word articles on, like, elevators or some shit. I also subscribe to the Economist, because it's a great way to learn about what's happening in the world outside the US. I've actually been reading that more than anything else lately.
In contrast, love terrible reality TV. Will never get enough Real Housewives. Also: The Americans, Stranger Things, Orphan Black, Black Mirror, Intervention, UnReal.
Food: Artichokes. Gummies. A good roast chicken. Black licorice wheels. Soup. Oysters and champagne, always.
The three men I'd like to go back in time to sleep with:
William Shatner, 1969
Bob Dylan, 1970
Paul Newman, 1967
Oh, and Bowie, duh.
Felt tip pen
Dresses with floral patterns
A good book
But the only thing I would rescue from a fire would be my dog. I can live without anything else.
I'm a homebody. I mostly just like sitting at home with my dog, drinking Manhattans, and watching some documentary about cults or drag queens on Netflix.
You want to have a few drinks and talk about silly things for a few hours.
You like doing nothing.
You're a man in his 30s with a beard. Or gray hair. I will be inexorably attracted to you.
You appreciate bitches with attitude.
Sorry, I'm a New York elitist who doesn't like to travel too far. Please live in Brooklyn or Manhattan. Also, I don't do camping. Or vegans.