In the only reoccurring dream I’ve ever had, which it turns out is a nightmare, I am a My Little Pony. I think peanut butter and banana sandwiches are the closest I’ll ever get to understanding perfection. My Blackberry does not define me. The Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet reminds me of when I believed in Santa Claus. I like wine and evenings. I also like beer and things after 1 pm. If I believed in reincarnation, which I don’t rule out or subscribe to, I would like to come back as a magician or a comedian…actually a comedic magician or a magical comedian (an ice cream delivery person—that is to say that either the truck or bicycle varietal is equally desirable—would also make the top five). I think I like my current job. French kissing is amazing. I have never won anything quantifiable but consider myself pretty fucking lucky. Laughing till tears feels like a great accomplishment. I obsess. I digress. I like to sit on the floor; am currently. My relatives are remarkable, like, really. I have become a quad shot latte kind of girl. I startle easily, this has nothing to do with the espresso intake.