When I was sitting in the backseat of a dark car driving jerkily back to campus, the navigator asked me, “Who are you?”

In actuality, I said something bland, accurate, but quite asinine.

Let me try to answer better here.

Sometimes remarkable, easily distracted;
stunningly creative and shockingly dense
(hence, “how does she even function?”);
obsessed with language; turquoise like an ottoman,
gets drunk for the vitamins, pets the reduplicated perfect.

I admit readily that I’m chiastic and contradictory.
As always, contact me with any questions!

Dec. 2014 edit: This is still mostly true. This was originally published in 2010.


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