I've even raped and killed a mountain panda in the hills of Shaanxi.

1. What is the biggest mistake you ever made.

Blowing off my independent study senior year. I've done/not done other things that probably made my life worse, but most of them it's only with hindsight that I see it. This was the only thing I consciously did that was fucking stupid.

2. What brings you joy?

A lovely day in Seattle that's not too hot or cold, and you can see the Mountain. Dancing to excellent live music. Cuddling Reg. Tiramisu melting on the tongue. Jane Austen.

3. Who is your favorite author and why?

Philip K. Dick has put a face to my paranoia. I've always had the idea of "everyone else is trying to convince you you're crazy" in my head, but he actually made a career out of re-writing that story over and over again.

4. Do you think the success of your romantic relationship has more to do with base compatibility with your partner or the fact you have learned from previous relationships. If it's a bit of both what is the percentage ratio? If it's neither what is it?

I'd say more to do with compatibility, since "learned behaviors" seemed to have been rewritten to deal with this relationship within 7 months or so. But the real success is due to sincere politeness when one of us fucks up, and genuine passion still lasting. Which I guess is due to the fact that we are both so fucking hot.

5. Are you racist? If so why? If not how do you deal with prejudice when you discover it affecting your perspective?

I would say I'm racist, in that I think some stereotypes more often fit certain races more than others, but I try to apply these equally to all races. But apart from hating asian girls I don't think I qualify. I think class/culture matters a lot more than race.

Comment here and I won't ask you anything!
But if you want to interview me too, that's fine.

I remember my last two dreams from last night. First was like, um, characters from Pirates on Mars, trapped by the emperor, but Anne Bancroft was the Empress and well, she made an offer Sparrow couldn't refuse. I woke up before anything fun happened alas. The next one was a bit more complicated, x-men characters looking for another kid mutant I think, but the kid had already been recruited by the govt to be a secret agent? I remember very clearly getting to his house, and his elderly mother letting us in and giving us muffins, and talking about how he keeps getting sent back from foster care. That might work well as a short story, in the PKD sense, where you can't tell if the kid is bad or crazy or gifted. Man I wish I hadn't lost my copy of Martian Time-Slip.

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It's been dead cold since the day after Christmas or so. Freezing and all that. Something which I haven't seen since the week after Halloween. I don't like it much; it snowed early Saturday morning and melted and refroze on my car, which I didn't drive this weekend, so Monday morning there was a shitload of frosty crap on my car. Took forever to clean off, but at least the remainder melted quick. Today it's cloudy in the standard Seattle manner, which means you can see the mountains all around you and they look utterly fantastic.

Karaoke last night was ok. I still feel the cough at times, and it doesn't make me want to practice singing so much. Anyway I woke up disgustingly early because I had to go to the bathroom. Tricky to get back to sleep after that. But finally I did. When I woke up again I still felt shitty, so I just watched the director commentary on American Pie. Not because it was insightful or anything, but because in the GQ I read yesterday, the Weitz brothers were in a photo shoot. And one of them is fairly cute, and also did About A Boy, which is a great film. I may just have to buy it today.

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Great quote on writing:

"Reading [my own writing] does not mean anything to me... what matters to me is the writing, the act of manufacturing the novel, becuase while I am doing it, at that particular moment, I am in the world I'm writing about. It is real to me, compeltely and utterly. Then, when I'm finished, and have to stop, withdraw from that world forever - that destroys me. The men and women have ceased talking. They no longer move... My friends are dead."

-- PKD.

Now I've only written one novel, but I know exactly what he means. Even stories sometimes do that.