A Philly transplant by way of Wisconsin, I like comic books and roller derby, terrible science fiction movies and great food (though I'm a reasonably useless chef. Especially at this altitude), and occasionally find myself humming cheer songs from my alma mater sorority. I like to pretend that I have some idea of what I'd like to do with my life, but honesttogod it changes every time I learn about something new in class. This week, I want to be an account planner. Next week, I have no idea. 5 year old me is still endlessly disappointed that I will never be a velociraptor astronaut.

More often than not, I get described as a wiseass. Funny enough, I'm pretty quiet the first time you meet me. (The second time, though? Look out.)

I am completely unapologetic in my love for Noodles & Co, Milwaukee, the Philadelphia Eagles, and the Matrix trilogy. And I can't get over how weirdly postmodern it is that people think that liking the same movies or sports teams will result in finding a better mate.

I may be the most un-outdoorsy person to ever move to the state of Colorado, but I'm hoping to make room for some rock climbing shenanigans. (I used to teach adventure course type things, then I had a bad runin with a bunk bed. Don't ask.)

Unlike certain vice presidential candidates, I've been jetsetting since before I can remember. I'm a sucker for cheesy roadside attractions, bizarre local history, factory tours, strange museums, crumbling out of the way places, and dirty local haunts that serve the best damn food you've never heard of. I'll fly 3000 miles to see a band play a show and judge the city entirely on its public transportation. I've been to every continent except Australia.

I've decided that, as of yesterday, my life is on a perpetual quest for More Awesome. This mostly involves using "dude" as part of my regular vernacular and attempting to incorporate the high-five into everyday life, but has been known to branch out into castle spelunking, reverse escalator riding, haunted prison wrestling, and/or various other events that may or maynot someday get me dead.

The gods of academia got together for a pub crawl, and at the end of the night, decided it'd be funny to what'd happen if they shoved me back in the ivory tower. I'm currently in grad school, fulltime, for journalism. It's actually not journalism at all, but that's the easiest explanation. Really, I get to play with social theory and numbers and brand identity, but we'll call it journalism.

When I'm not up to my ears in gradschoolations, I moonlight as a professional zombie (and it's almost haunt season! Hooray!), pretend to be invested in bartending (was previously, not currently), climb as many things with as few ropes as I can, and try to make time for prize winning bar sports. It's a tough life, but someone's gotta live it.

Reading comic books, laughing at b movies, drinking pepsi, remembering obscure scifi short stories, semiotic analysis, izone photography, tetris, beer snobbery, supporting the creative endeavors of my friends (whether or not they suck), telling my friends that their creative endeavors might actually suck, geeking out over some band you've never heard of, moshing clockwise, puddle jumping, moon tanning, trying to eat my weight in waffles, writing honestly, connect-the-dots, setting new heights for blinding sarcasm.

I'm really bad at: bowling, mini golf, drinking wine, maintaining my composure in polite company, ordering food in foreign countries (hijinks ensue, and that is NOT a hamburger), chitchatting about politic(k)s, parallel parking, astrophysics, remembering the scoring notation for baseball, faking happiness, scrabble, writing these profiles. Not like any of that stops me from trying.

My tshirt has squid on it. Moments later, I've been recruited for their useless trivia quizzo team.

a) The Phantom Tollbooth, Einstein's Dreams, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Just-So Stories, Brave New World, Xenocide, The Bicentennial Man, His Dark Materials; Preacher, Transmetropolitan, Concrete, Fables, Fell, Amazing Spider Man, Marvel Zombies, Ultimate X Men; Paul Auster, F. Paul Wilson, Bill Bryson.

b) The Matrix, Josie and the Pussycats, Land of the Dead, Iron Man, Logan's Run, Cabin Fever, The Apple, Robot Jox, Splendor, Wayne's World, Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey, Mystery Men, Newsies, In the Mouth of Madness, The Game, Cube, The Sandlot.

c) Ifihadahifi, The Weakerthans, Troubled Hubble, Nirvana, Garbage, Fountains of Wayne, Manowar, Idlewild, Holy Fuck, Brainiac, Negativland, Pig Destroyer, Les Savy Fav, Genghis Tron, Moxy Fruvous, Better Than Ezra, The Flaming Lips, For Squirrels, John Zorn, Lightning Bolt, thepAperchAse, bands you've never heard of, blah blah blah.

d) Ice creams of the future.

media history/analysis, standardcrapanswersmooshedtogethertocountasone, zombies, geektastic friends, live music, living in fear of an Irony Singularity.

Extended gambits. Distractions. Leonardo DaVinci. Time travel. Time travel in comic books. How mass media affects public perception. How political photography is used to sway public perception. Why liberal hotheads are just as infuriating as conservative hotheads. Why don't I have a better cup of tea in front of me right now? Does Comcast's Dating on Demand remind anyone else of MadTV's Lowered Expectations? Why concept cars never look as good in production as they did in prototype. Am I really immune to poison ivy? Celebrity scandals. The effectiveness of certain mass market ad campaigns. Logan kicking the wussy out of Scott Summers. Curling. Cursing. Socktopi. Old relationships. New relationships. Will any 21st century inventor ever be ass well regarded as the Edisons and Teslas of the universe? The future. My future. Where to go and how to get there. What the hell is the intro level of account planning? How my neighbors can fit that many tap dancing hippopotomi into their apartment. Whether or not my brain has a secret Off switch.

The default grillmaster, hanging out with friends, arguing, loudly, about any of the things I spend a lot of time thinking about (see above.) Or by myself, at some basement show, wishing that the sweaty shirtless dude would stop careening into me every time I close my eyes.

I'm a title holding Rock Paper Scissors champion. Vive la maetball.

Recently, it has come to my attention that I am a structuralist. Ick.

You like dinosaurs, and enjoy intelligent discussions about ridiculous things just as much as you enjoy ridiculous discussions about intelligent things. Willing to forgive this re-friggin-diculous username I'm stuck with would be pretty swell, too.

Addendum:
I've been called out for saying that I'm not interested in "car" people. Let me restate that:
It's ok if you're a car person. It's not ok if you think that the type of car you own is a major selling point. Everyone has hobbies. If you consider your hobby a qualifier for your virility, you're doing it wrong. Come to think of it, this really applies to ALL hobbies.