naomi's profile (website)

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Name: Naomi Van Tol
Joined: November 18, 2004

Contributions

MeFi: 12 posts RSS feed of posts by naomi, 84 comments
MetaTalk: 0 posts RSS feed of posts by naomi, 37 comments
Ask MeFi: 4 questions RSS feed of posts by naomi, 177 answers
Music: 0 posts RSS feed of music posts by naomi, 0 comments, 0 playlists
Projects: 0 posts, 0 comments
Jobs: 0 posts

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Favorites: 30
Favorited by others: 20

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Links to: 5 users
Linked by: 5 users
Top 10 Tags on MeFi: library (1) japan (1) impulsivebuy (1) humor (1) house (1) food (1) dulai (1) dog (1) body-modification (1) batshitinsane (1)
Top 10 Tags on Ask MeFi: oilpainting (1) moonlight (1) art (1) annmariebrown (1)

About

What's the deal with your nickname? How did you get it? If your nickname is self-explanatory, then tell everyone when you first started using the internet, and what was the first thing that made you say "wow, this isn't just a place for freaks after all?" Was it a website? Was it an email from a long-lost friend? Go on, spill it.

I communicate effectively to leverage synergy and increase core competency without losing sight of the big picture and blah-de-crapola-blah. I strive always to be a more thoughtful and caring person, except when it inconveniences me in any way.

I got rhythm but forgot to hook it up.

I once shocked the international art community with my edgy reconception of origami as social protest. I am allergic to boredom so we can't keep it in the house.

I recycle all of my aluminum, glass, paper, plastic, and teenage angst. (My best ideas are usually parenthetical.)

I believe that every human being carries a small but enduring spark of divine beauty deep down inside their hearts. Except for the Belgians; they're just assholes.

I often carve blocks of government cheese into charmingly detailed depictions of Biblical parables. I can arrange chickpeas into subtly offensive positions that may shock even you. I plan to donate my body to the hungry.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness starving hysterical naked, spending their Saturday nights at coffee shops (and not even the artsy variety with their squashy stained couches and card decks, but the antiseptic corporate variety that have rendered the time-honored phrase "Spare five bucks for a cup of coffee?" sadly obsolete while simultaneously promoting the horrible implacable permanence of caste which is, like, so totally antithetical to the very foundation garments of our rough uncorseted patchwork of a country that was, after all, birthed and built and sanctified by outcasts and immigrants and orphans) while pretending to be somebody else who cares.

I am unusual, yes, true, but in such a boring way.

I'm anti-war and pro-beer and madly in love with you but can't admit it because of my unbreakable previous commitment to evolve flippers and return to the sea.

In my dreams, everything is different.