What about you? We'll see. First things first. Although my work, which matters to me a lot, requires me to be pretty cerebral, I get how to play when the whistle blows--to go out on the town, a club, or stay at home; friends say that I'm a passionate person, esp. for things like my family, books and...
What about you? We'll see. First things first. Although my work, which matters to me a lot, requires me to be pretty cerebral, I get how to play when the whistle blows--to go out on the town, a club, or stay at home; friends say that I'm a passionate person, esp. for things like my family, books and ideas, art history, museums, and last but definately not least, movies; it may not seem like it, but kicking back watching a film is sheer bliss, esp. with the right woman. I have a professional interest in philosophy (my doctoral dissertation explores some cool connections between the nature of beauty and the morally good), and I'm a total sucker for English lit. and any A&E period film; not at all an egghead, or nerd (just a supercool guy who's wickedly smart, of course), I like a good coffee buzz, but I hate coffee crashes and those headaches (you know which ones?); can't live without some music (composers like Gregson-Williams, John Barry, master of film-scoring); think there's music for every mood, love some classical, and will tolerate country at gunpoint: love watching films, indie and mainstream (even if they don't come out of Sundance or Cannes). (What can I say Jaws is in my top five.) As to why I'm on Match, like you, being here is an experiment to expand the bounds of my social sphere. I'd like to meet an very sexy, cool, warm-hearted and witty woman--educated, yes, but she also loves to laugh. If Bogart and Bacall come to mind for you, esp. in "To have and To Have Not", then I'd say you and I are probably on the same page.
While I definately like to chill out, joke around, and appreciate the Seinfeldian moments of life, to cull whatever humor I can out of any episode of human folly, I'm not a 24 hour lampshade. Sometimes you just feel the truth of the Vermont proverb: Don't speak unless you can improve the silence--which can definately be golden, even its own special language.
I've always connected with that scene in Pulp Fiction, when Uma and Travolta are sipping milkshakes in the retrorant. Something real is captured there: kindred souls can be comfortably silent in each other's presence, and they can communicate a lot in the shared quiet.
Of course, there's A LOT to be said for good conversation, whether of the 'deep' or 'trivial' or 'polite' variety, and I really appreciate a woman who can keep up her end and is capable of some range.