age: 28 (Jun 26, 1983)
MEMBER SINCE: April 2005
occupation: Purdue grad, staff member at a homeless shelter, overworked writer, graduate student
heroes: My parents, Sam from Lord of the Rings, Winston Churchill, Bono
fantasy: I have enough problems in reality without having to worry about creating a fantasy too.
sign: Cancer
gets me hot: Many more things than did when I wasn't single
into: Hoping and praying to get my book(s) published. And days off, seeing as how I have so few of them.
body mods: They all healed several years ago, and the only tattoo I'd ever want would cost over a thousand dollars, and my wallet is too weak to hold that much money.
makes me happy: Starry nights (what can I say, I'm imaginative); great movies alone in my apartment now that my roommate has apparently skipped town; knowing that history will remember George Bush as one of the worst president in American history, regardless of what his popularity is right now; a Barack Obama presidency
makes me sad: Reading over a scene I've just written and realizing it's not at all what I was going for; credit card bills (actually, make that money in general); occasionally thinking that I'll fall short of everything I want to be
crush: Trying not to think of crushes at the moment.
stats: 3-23 in the girls I've had feelings for/girls who have returned the favor department.
So let's see, the Colts suck, my job is still royally fucking me (but at least they're using lube now!), I still haven't made any progress on the literary front (though at least I have the excuse of being too busy writing the pieces required of my last year in grad school), I'm having still more money problems, I've been stood up by three potential dates and had two more experiences so bizarre you wouldn't believe me even if I told you about them, and I've been unintentionally celibate for about 6 months now. Yet despite all this, somehow I'm not as upset/depressed/drunk as I usually would be in this situation. That's... progress?




























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