I have been asked the following questions this week, and I will now answer them permanently so that we may all move on: "Do you wear black because you're sad?" — No. I wear black because it is elegant, it hides paint, and it means I never have to make a decision before coffee. "Is that your real hair color?" — It is now. "Do you worship the devil?" — I work at a garden center. I worship rain and a good perennial. "Aren't you hot in that?" — Devastatingly. Things I actually love: cemeteries in October (they are the most peaceful public parks in America and they're free). Victorian mourning jewelry. Bats — real ones, the small brown ones that live under the bridge on Water Street, I go watch them come out at dusk and it is better than any movie. Tea. Rain. My cat, Bramwell, who is a monster. Things I do not love: being someone's edgy costume. People who say "you'd be so pretty if." Sunlight before noon. Being told to smile by a man at a gas station. I am, and I cannot stress this enough, an extremely boring person. I go to work. I water plants. I come home. I read. It's a wonderful life and it has nothing whatsoever to do with how I look in a photograph.

Someone who will go to Allegheny Cemetery with me and not make a single joke. Peter Murphy. A person who knows how to properly repair lace.