The following was my “About Me” on my friendster profile. I liked it, but felt that it was time for a change, though whatever I wrote here holds as much truth now as it did then.

If anyone can describe me, please do. I personally have no idea how to describe myself. Neither quiet nor boisterous, neither ostentatious nor conservative, neither in the middle nor at the extremes. Or perhaps I am.

Do I find not knowing myself a problem? Not exactly. If I knew what I was like, I’d probably change it. Just to keep everyone on their toes… I hate to be pigeon-holed, put into a box; I disliked being defined.

I love to be possibility personified. Unlimited: like Unlimited Bandwidth — exciting.

But there are some things that I don’t mind being. Things like “nice”. I love being “nice”. Sometimes I’m labled “quiet”, or “reserved”. That’s okay, so long as they don’t add that I ought to change.

I prefer to keep my silence when around strangers, or people I’m not close to. I mean, how do you get to know someone when you’re always talking? When you listen to strangers, they become friends. At least that’s the way I see it. Anyway, it’s Dale Carnegie’s way of “How to Win Friends and Influence People”.

I listen to jazz. Some people think it’s strange. If I were someone else, I’d think it strange too. And add to that pretentious. I mean, who, seriously, listens to jazz right? Allow me to admit, I hate jazz. It frequently sounds awful. But I listen to it nevertheless. Jazz for me, even of the least melodic and out-of-musical-kilter variety, has been associated with late nights, good company, and carefree days. And unpredictability.

Oh, and Jazz reminds me of a wonderful evening I spent on a class gathering at Rachel’s house. I remember the thick carpet, the shelf of CDs, and the down-tempo jazz, played oh-so-soft, out-of-consciousness, but just within audible levels. I also remember the wonderful company. And my refusal to eat for some reason I have forgotten, and her encouragement –maybe closer to chiding– for me to eat. I was weird then. It’s nice to be weird. I think I still am.