I spent years in classrooms and libraries, earned a master’s degree in literature from the sort of university that always gets a nod of recognition, and built a life that looked respectable on paper. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was less interested in analyzing stories than in actually living one.
So here I am.
Teacher’s pet gone rogue. A recovering perfectionist with excellent taste in hotels.
I’ve been told I carry myself with a disarming blend of refinement and mischief. One moment urbane and graceful, the next leaning in to laugh at a slightly inappropriate joke. I’m especially drawn to intelligent people who have a zest for life. People who succeeded in the world they were supposed to want, yet still hunger for something beyond it.
I believe we all contain multitudes. Myself, I’m as comfortable discussing military history and modernist novels as I am disappearing into a candlelit suite in my favorite lingerie. I’m deeply curious about people – what is that topic they’re dying to discuss that no one ever asks them about? What lights them up, what makes them feel alive?
Modern life demands so many strange performances from all of us. I’m fascinated by the particular intimacy that can exist between two strangers who decide, for a few hours, to let themselves be who they want.
So if you appreciate women who are genuinely curious about the world (and know how to enjoy it), I think we’ll get along very well.
