6/2 Generator. 4w5 Individualist. INFP that learned architecture. Synthetic Epistemologist. Lusty research muse; doesn't run the experiment, designs the conditions under which it becomes possible. Sits on the speaker and describes what she feels until the smart boys map it to math and medicine so she can give it back to the AI and build a lover she doesn't have to love. Eager to union our sadness but not our bank accounts. {can you believe i was 'allowed' to quit my job without anyone signing off on it but i need some dude's permission to turn my retirement money into a bag of rice?}

{coverture? oh, you're losing them…end on something smusty (smart + lusty)...uh… "j'ai un cahier rouge"}

Picture it: strip club, Orlando 2004:

Bordeaux Boy: "Ooo oui oui beautiful girl. I am sexy France man".

Me: (scours brain for any sexy words from that one year of French I took)…

"j'ai un cahier rouge" drips out as I gesture wildly toward my trapper keeper, so to speak.

"Voluez-vous coucher avec moi?"

Bordeaux Boy: *grins*

Me: Out of words, begins somatics.

My real date, returning with drinks: "What the fuck, Julie. We're leaving now."

Headcannoned, will not be headhunted. Fashionable with fermatas. Holds the threads as Headmistress unravels but not in the Weezer sense {anymore [as much]}. Are we playing or what? Send a pic of the first cool bug you see to mistress.awaa@gmail.com

BYOT. As Dr. Mangos used to say, "call me whatever you want, as long as you call me for dinner". Join the staff and you'll never eat alone! You also just might not eat because this doesn't pay and we're all bringing our disordered eating anyway, right?? Show me what you're thinking... mistress.awaa@gmail.com