Ah, random isn't as random doesn't - picture a house full of manhattanesque piles, where the first boxes to get unpacked were the books (to make enough floorspace to see inside the rest). Now picture me standing - no, leaning against the chest of drawers in the only floorspot available to take my photo (in a dressing gown? Why?). Now picture someone looking at my picture and picturing me choosing what books I wanted showing behind me...
I'll say "I'm a Buddhist" because my name's Padmavyuha and it confuses people otherwise - but it's something I do (or don't), not am (or aren't). It's my answer to my friend dying in a fire at 17 - what do you do in the face of this? You live well. Many ways to do that, apparently - I chose mine, it keeps mutating/evolving/revolving/dissolving/resolving. I like that this is my name, because I get into meaningful conversations with strangers over it. Every time I hide behind it, it falls over on top of me and bruises my ankles quite badly, so that's a nice self-limiting factor.
I'm happy to talk, as long as it's not going to turn into a food fight (you know - my non-attachment to non-attachment is non-bigger than yours blah blah) - quite enough of that after 18 years, quite enough of that after 2 months of facebook even (bloody zens are the worst for that
We could also have a conversation where I say out loud What's the big deal with the jonas brothers? I think they're pretty cute, and their music is pretty damn okay if you compare it to the robot girlie stuff filling most of the airwaves, and I don't give a toss what their sexual orientations are. See? I have my finger on the american pulse, I know this makes me even more unacceptible than being a bisexual polyamorist buddhist.