The only part of life that brings you true happiness is pizza. You were once deemed unfashionable by people in high school, but because of the rise of the hipster culture (which you loathe, obvs) everyone now dresses like you. You couldn't care less: you moved from your small surburban town to a bustling city with a college that has a "fine" (in your estimation) liberal arts program. That's about as excited as you get, publically speaking.
Sometimes you listen to Katy Perry to feel things, but only in private, and only with the blinds closed. Then it's back to Foucault. You have regular sex, and enjoy the poist-coital cigarettes best.