Gluing Feathers or Something

I'm just writing to write, because I can't write about Global Village or progressive book stores or homosexuality in modern Korea. I need to push something out to convince myself that there I can still form words by pressing on keys.

I have been thinking too much lately about things like this:

You can tell a lot about a person by his/her ___. Fill in the blank please, pour everything you've got into it: hair color, favorite wine, big toe, etc. You can tell a lot about a guy by the length of his dick/how he likes his steak/the color of his eyes. ETC. Et cetera. And so on. And so forth.

How can we classify people? I'm easy, I guess. I sleep on my stomach. My hair circles clockwise. My shoes oscillate somewhere between sizes 10 and 12. I love snow in December and hate it in March. I always wake up early. I listen to Ashlee Simpson and Elvis and Bon Iver and the Mavericks. I cannot listen to two trains of thought at once.

I can't hear what I'm not listening to.

Excuse me while I wax nostalgic.