On a more serious note, I am a survivor of several waspy intellectual puppy mills. Now I'm equally equipped to deconstruct Derrida and roll a joint-- sadly mediocre at both.
A hard core materialist: books, art, wee hour chats on the ubiquity of ironic currency in the postmodern cultural space. And puppies. Please blink twice to confirm your complicity with this sham of self promotion.
When it all gets to be too much, I escape into the wild. Take ad hoc hikes, befriend mountain folk and bake pie. Go figure!
For the mandatory self-disclosure part: I am an extract from the Old Country with a somewhat tangled geographic trajectory. Living in the US since 13, alternating coasts. Israel, briefly. So 50% immigration success rate so far. If needs be, hoping Canada will redeem my statistics. Not any time soon-- unless Trump wins.
Being Jewish... is an endlessly messy, intimate tangle. I'm happy to elaborate in person over much whiskey.
As I am settling in this jolly oyster of a city, I would like to meet kindred spirits, sharing in my precarious poise between pragmatism and wanderlust. I am ultimately looking to build a life with someone based on shared values rather than interests. So don't be discouraged if I snooze during your Trekkie references. In turn, I won't expect you to put up with Pushkin as pillow talk. Oh who am I kidding! Get ready for Eugene Onegin. No ear plugs allowed.
Jazz, electric swing, klezmer and much more on my spotify account.
lazy Sunday mornings
the Seventh Thing