Somebody, probably innumerably somebodies by this point, complained that my website was almost completely unnavigable. This was true. This was deliberate. I relent. This page is an attempt to provide links with text attached to them, accurately describing what is behind the links. It'll probably be ugly for a while.
I was born in Illinois, but raised in Rochester, NY, in a small pink house in the city near Highland Park. It currently contains a loud dog, my mother and sisters, and endless clutter from a childhood spent producing artwork and half-finished stories faster than my mother could buy paper. If you listen to me talking to my mother, you can probably hear traces of a reconstructed midwestern drawl, but I might be faking it.
I went to a small, private school in Rochester for most of my life, which left me sheltered, isolated, and academically inspired. The logical next step, of course, was to take my academic dreams to Swarthmore College, which promised to refine me into an "intellectual" (as I was warned by the representative from Dartmouth) through an oppressive workload and stimulating company. At Swarthmore, I soon found myself absorbed by the alleged Science Fiction/Fantasy Club, Swarthmore Warders of Imaginative Literature. In it, I found a close and crazy group of friends, an alumni network extending back before I was born, and incredible amounts of awesomeness. They trusted me to lead them. They let me splatter my name all over their webpage.
I'm supposed to complete a double major in Physics and Russian in the spring of 2006. I'm not sure what comes after that - I have a suspicion that most of the best jobs calling for a combination of these skills vanished when it became less lucrative to spy for Russia. I'm more inclined to do good than evil, which makes it all even trickier.
I don't photograph well. If you ever find a good picture of me, I want it, if only so that I can tell you it's actually a horrible likeness.
I was raised to believe that creative minds were the most valuable, that bare feet and darkness are better than shoes and electric lights, that I should be an artist, a musician, or a writer when I grew up. I've finally stopped producing half-finished novels and short stories, but I've never been able to cure myself of thinking on paper, in equations or in sketches and poetry.
Some of my poetry is online. There's a little still over at AuthorsDen, but I can't access the account any more. My own page of stuff I've written that I can stand is here, and needs updating. I'm not going to link to the stuff I may or may not be able to stand.