My Creative Writing professor asked us to write a Match.com profile (not to actually go on Match.com; just to read and critique and discuss), so I guess I have an introduction after all.
I read everything in sight, I knit increasingly complex scarves (but only scarves, as I am too Type A about knitting to try something with more screw-up potential), I watch bad movies for the sole purpose of critiquing the dialogue. When I am bored I dye my hair strange colours, plot out my next tattoo, or make halfhearted attempts to get to the roof of my building. My family occasionally pretends disapproval, but on the whole appears disappointed that I did not turn out wilder.
I have goals, some of which may actually be attainable. I aspire to a flat in Scotland (or France, or Canada, or – hmm, most any place outside the States); I aspire to be a writer, to hike the Appalachian Trail, to be a truck driver, to wear leather pants to my cousin’s wedding (unlikely, as I am a bridesmaid, but it may yet happen). I aspire to write a paper about Jane Eyre and Crime and Punishment (working title: Getting what they deserve: Crime and Punishment in Jane Eyre. I am not looking for a Mr. Rochester. If you have a crazy wife locked up in the attic – if you have a wife at all – stay home. On the other hand, any number of sins can be forgiven for a modicum of literary understanding, so…).
My dream job involves lots of books and a reasonably quiet office. I fantasize about living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and never seeing a human being again, but then I realize that, as I occasionally enjoy humanity, doing so might not be practical.
I like self-selected challenges. I think I like them better when I fail, so that I have incentive to try again, but success is nice too. I find people with passions to be inspiring, if not always likeable.
*Edited to put in the underlines that I forgot last time...
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