Is this where I fill in all of the details that will either make you stay and read or leave? I’m not sure that I could put anything in this box that would explain how I ended up as I am. I’d like to think that my random experiences and general malaise have brought me to this point so far. Pull up a chair. It’ll be a while.

I’m 29. That means I’m dangerously close to 30, at which point I’ll feel like I have to grow up and become a responsible adult — again. I live inside the Beltway which isn’t as cool as it sounds but it sounds very cool to say out loud to people who don’t. I wanted to be a professional “test audience” member for a living, but I couldn’t find that in any of the job catalogs I searched, so I ended up an editor instead. I love diet Mountain Dew, “Cheaters” and driving. I don’t love idiots, pretentious douchebags and mushrooms. I live with my boyfriend and two oddly tempered black cats in an apartment with a great balcony we don’t use enough. I miss the 1980s and I quote movies a lot. I also think I missed my calling as a morning-show sidekick, but there’s always hope that it’s the next job.

Love letters, hate mail, credit card offers and pitches for free samples of sex-enhancing drugs can be sent to girlofwords[at]gmail[dot]com.