I’m 21 and I live in Albany, NY.
I have a jumping frog, but I’m not a gambler. I want a girl who can enjoy her symptoms. I love reading and writing short fiction. I don’t like Bukowski. I want a girl who likes going out for breakfast. I keep everything—help me throw some stuff away. Dostoevsky changed my life, Chuck Klosterman ruined it, and criticism saved it. I’m white, 5’11”, thin, and have short dark brown hair. I want to read in bed with someone. Join me in the approach.
Twenty-something Midwestern girl who loves British novels, the American South, book clubs, Prospect Park, photography, classical music, and the Cloisters. Habits: Baking more than cooking. Religious more than spiritual. Reading more than writing. I’m looking for a twenty- or thirty-something guy who enjoys giving book reports over dinner.
Where: This morning on the Richmond bound train, bouncing along through the Peninsula’s foggy little boxes, next to the ‘world’s most beautiful freeway.’
You: In your early to mid thirties, tallish (6 ft?), wavy dark brown hair, romantically Slavic, neatly disheveled, aquiline nose, the kind of stubble that says you’re too cerebral to completely shave, yet you care enough about appearance to buy an electric razor. Wearing a fuzzy grayish brown sweater that looked a little too small, like maybe you’d mistakenly put it in the dryer. It reminded me of a squirrel. Alas, no elbow patches. when you glanced up from your Chekhov, your eyes seemed to be a very pale green.
Me: Midtwenties, also tallish, also with wavy dark brown hair and a supposedly aquiline nose. Alas, no stubble or exoticism but my best attempt at fashionably professorial youthful: vintage pink glasses, gray shawl-neck sweater (no elbow patches), and a gray pencil skirt. Reading a photocopy from the journal of visual studies.
Let’s move to the environs of a liberal arts college and make babies.
Grad student in literature. Male. 30. Dallas/Fort Worth area. Reading and enjoying Raymond Carver and finally getting into 30 Rock. Can make a mean black bean burger, though I’m not vegetarian.
Looking for female: mid-twenties to early thirties; smart, casual and classy who is able to laugh at life because she knows it’s also very serious. Email me; let’s talk books: favorites or whatever you happen to be currently reading. Maybe we can get coffee and continue the conversation in person.
Me: 28-year-old toiler in the culture industry mumming something approaching stoicism. Vegetarian and a good cook. In politics a bit more red than black, but game for your vegan potlocks and benefit parties: no sectarian squabbles here. Get around by bike. Variously poetic, fairly earthy, generally restless, in fact lean but not mean. Acquainted with heartbreak, rustily trilingual, bearded. Sex driven, food driven, sound driven: sense driven. Bored sustaining months-long relationships that go nowhere. Open, finally, to that big something more (again), but aware that you and I are likely not going to be that for each other. In the meantime, let’s cook, cuddle, hit museums and movies and shows, stream flicks, swap reads and see how long we can stave off winter. You: more or less not a mess. The rest sorts itself.
Are you an informal New Critic who yet prefers the singularity of Cavell to the diffusion of Empson? Are you filled with a sense of dread when staring at a cover of Lapham’s? Have you refused to ever buy a single copy? Contact me to share the best reading recs. 27/male/Canada.
THE interns are committed to the continued existence of n+personals, at least until everyone who ever seized up a little reading DFW has found a shoulder to cry on. Given that this is a rather large, and potentially exponential, pool of people, we have easily guaranteed the indefinite success of our project, which means continued entertainment for you, dear reader, and happiness for us.
So couple away! (Or, if you already live in bliss, take time out of your day to do a little charity work for all your “lovely but lonely” friends.)
Do keep in mind that we accept missed connections, primarily for literary events but also any and all activities that involve large masses of semi-awkward bespectacled Brooklynites getting sloshed and arguing about lit crit.
22, lilting, lovely, and somewhat lost recent liberal arts graduate. My voice reminds people of Winona Ryder and Ira Glass. I am the nexus between Lindsay Weir and Elaine Benes. I am Jewish, obviously, but that doesn’t mean you have to be. I am recently heartbroken. I find comfort in my routines. I am surprisingly domestic. I am looking for someone to talk through instantly streamed Netflix movies with. My comma usage is refreshingly improper. No Yankees fans please. You can go ahead and make yourself emotionally unavailable to me.
Me (female): neurotic valley girl, animated, likes to experience things fully.
You (male): tall, articulate, socially conscious, fidgety, with endearing hand mannerisms and a gentle spirit.
I’m probably a Trotskyist at heart, but as art director of a successful academic journal I’ve got enough time on my hands to make sure that there’s a fair amount of (pectoral) muscle to get through before you reach it. 28, phd, vague sense of purpose and distinct love of esoteric girls who can paint as well as they can kiss. i haven’t had much problem finding a date, it’s finding someone to date that’s been the issue. Looking for someone to read Agamben to me in bed, travel with me to every known location that Conrad has set books in, and teach me how to cook something other than omelets. If your bookshelf is arranged by color please don’t write.