Like many hapless Californians, I was forced to emigrate from the Bear Republic during the Great Quinoa Famine of 2006. Since then I have been engaged in extending healthcare access to low income populations, a task which involves a lot more exposure to hilariously gross bodily fluids than a reasonable person would even accept as hypothetically possible. And now I have washed up on the shores of the Potomac after a rousing reverse anabasis.
Like most people, my favorite activity is sitting in a darkened room brushing the hair on my huge collection of Troll dolls while throwing stale bread out the window at any passersby who look happy. I have been advised to play this fact down on dating websites, so instead I will make the completely unsubstantiated claims that I bike around, zumba around, garden around, vegetarian mush cook around, volunteer around, church around.
Personality wise, I am not at all easy going, I am strung up and surprisingly irritable. Instead of trying new things, I prefer to stay in my cage pushing this lever that delivers painful electric shocks. My professional life has all the direction of a Paulie Shore movie.
Kiss My Math: Showing Pre-Algebra Who's Boss by Danica McKellar. I think in terms of genres: a heterogeneous mix of Eastern European literatures, the Spanish generation of '98 movement, nouvelle theologie and the ressourcement tradition, and I have to add instruction manuals because I've wasted so much flipping time trying to get this can opener to work.
Plus, I printed out the Pope's 184 page encyclical at work, so I'm working on that now. Sweet lord, I love it when a moral authority sticks it to my selfish destructive Western consumerist habits!
Any movie that involves someone from the wrong side of the tracks who dreams of escaping the 'hood through their passion for dance, preferably involving an unlikely forbidden romance with an uptown boy/girl (this may actually be the only sincere thing in this whole profile)
The only song I listen to is that song about cookies from "Troop Beverly Hills."
Anything you're not going to finish. Honestly, most of my calories and vitamins come from Soylent, so i'm fairly ambivalent about real food.
The box upon which is written "You cannot live without this box" which a wizened old stranger gave me on my 6th birthday.
A time machine with which to go back in time and stop myself from saying inane tripe like the aforementioned.
My spider sense.
My Neil Diamond lunchbox
Also, the popular TV show Scrubs. So quirky!
And on a real note, I never learned how to drive a car since like most folks I've never actually needed to use one. This apparently freaks people out here, so I'll throw that out.
You are the keymaster, gatekeeper, or can just put in a good word for me with Zuul, maybe give him my band's demo tape.
You're the six fingered man who killed my father.