age: 24 (making it eight years since I last filled this survey out)
sign: Pisces with Gemini rising (and that's perhaps the only thing that hasn't changed)
marital status: Living with the Punk, the Tortoise, my two Predators ( 1 , 2 ), Jason and Gollum .
distinguishing characteristics: My blonde hair is growing out, and I can tie it back now, for the first time in years. I'm average-short (5'6), and not as skinny as I think I am. "Nice teeth". Stainless steel 12g CBR worn in left earlobe and lower lip, right side. I wear two silver bracelets on my left wrist, and one on my right, along with a puppy collar I stole from the Punk. Also at least one silver necklace with a family trinket (or a St Christopher medal). Stripey socks. Brown framed glasses if I'm doing computer stuff away from home, orange/purple ones if I am at my machine.
attributes: Relatively attractive, relatively aware of it. 'Gifted', quick learner, "hella fast typer". Writer / editor. Works well under pressure, Talks too much.
liabilities: terrible procrastinator, incorrigible flirt, messy handwriting, short attention span, lack of motivation, shocking tease. (Okay, that hasn't changed much, either.)
religion: Bits and pieces. St Christopher medal != Catholicism. Runes != specific following of Norse tradidion. Meditation != Buddhist.
ambitions: To get there, in the end.
loves: The punk. Paroxysm Press . Writing / editing / music. Computer geekery. Family.
hates: Loneliness. That feeling of slipping to a mindspace I don't want to revisit. Letting people down.
actors: Sean Penn's moustache . Michael Madsen. John Cusack. Anne Heche. Angelina Jolie circa Hackers.
artists: ... Tian is the only one that springs to mind. And countless friends of mine whom I will not name for fear of forgetting anyone.
writers/books: Me. The World According to Garp. Paroxysm Press. Steve Smart. Michael Madsen . CS Lewis. Warren Ellis . William Gibson . Kenji Siratori . Andrew P Street (as lyricist and journalist). Again, countless friends. I surround myself with art.
literary genres: Trash. Sci-fi / cyberpunk. Psychological. Poetry. Feminist stuff . Filth. Shotgun fiction. Children's picture books. Young adult novels. Apocalypse / downfall of human society. James Bond .
bands/artists: ...that's not a good question to ask. Stick around and you'll get the general idea .
music: "Everything. I don't know that I dislike any musical genre any more. I used to. But I don't now."
smells I love: My grandmother's perfume. Mothballs. Woodsmoke. Coffee (can't drink it, can smell it). My perfume / deodorant (some cheap brand that imitates an expensive one) when mixed with sunshine. My dad after he's had a shower after mowing the lawn (seriously). Garlick. Sheets that have airdried. Old books!
smell I despise: "That would have to be that pine stuff you put in the bath to fix chicken pox."
where i live: AIM- Pas des Chiens . MSN- dotarray(at)lycos(dot)com. Poetry- Green Tablets . Journal- Pas des Chiens .
And I'm feeling generous. So here, have some Wire lyrics:
Crooks lay in a weighted state waiting for the dead assassin while the rust pure powder puffs, a shimmering opaque red. Papers spread no one driving we hurled direct ahead, the windows dark green tinted the hearse a taxi instead. Snow storms forecast imminently in areas Dogger, Viking, Moray, Forth, and Orkney. Keeping cover in denuded scrub, the school destroyed raised the club, panic spreading with threat of fire. Crowding beneath a layer of foam, refugees intertwined, alone. Within the institution walls in pastel blue, clinical white slashed red lipsticked walls, mercy nurse tonight. Seem like dark grey stockinged in the raking torchlight with 4 AM stubble, a midnight transvestite.
(Layout provided with assistance from Mike Industries .)