Fact: I am pretty much the least interesting person on this planet.
But since you’re here, you’re probably interested a wee bit more elaboration.
I’m a journalist in Alberta. I’m not originally from Alberta. I’m from a magical place called “Ontario” were there are these interesting things called “trees.” My great-grandpa was recruited to WWI by John McCrae’s father. My grandmother was read to by L.M. Montgomery, so y’know … I’m pretty much Canadian to the core, (but with some lovely strong British roots.)
I read comic books. I love cats (Two orange ones in particular). I haven’t watched television since the end of the Vancouver Olympics (Thanks Netflix!). I have a penchant for hyperbole. I read archaeology magazines growing up, not teen mags. The Goonies are good enough for me. I’m a child of the 80s. I take my coffee with one milk, one sugar but prefer tea. English breakfast, but Irish breakfast will do. My last name will stay as is. George Takei thinks I’m a special being. According to Queen, I make the rockin’ world go round. I love riding my bike. I build excellent campfires. I’m old school and use maps, not GPS.
I am a special, unique individual just like everyone else in this gosh darned world.