My name is Evany Thomas, and I was born in San Francisco, 1970. I did my best to grow up in the Bay Area, where I learned to master the clutch hill start, take breathtaking scenery for granted, and drink tap water without fear. My first memory is a hazy one...something about sitting on a balloon. Other than that, the years between birth and pre-school are total darkness, not at all unlike an alcohol-induced black-out.

Not much happened during my grade school years. I won a short-story writing contest in third grade (it was about a magic "rub me" lamp that the hero caressed and then wished for world peace). I was in a musical about Noah's ark, in which we wore jeans, colorful tees, and rainbow suspenders and clutched umbrellas and sang songs like "the Admirable Admiral" and "Man Messed Things Up." Junior high was horrible. High school was actually kind of okay.

For college, I went to the miniscule ladies college, Mills College, where I lived through the earthquake (the first time it ever occurred to me that I might die), and the Oakland hill fires (instructed to prepare for evacuation, which never happened, I freakishly packed nothing but underwear and my vintage purse collection). I supported myself by waiting tables, gallery sitting, deli-ing, and retailing at a cotton-only clothing store. I spent my junior year in Oxford, England, where I contracted a tragic case of adult chicken pox and got really plump on deep-fried sausages and chips.

After college, I moved to Los Angeles and stayed there for three years, going to cat shows, watching Jeopardy, and rubbing up against stars. I supported myself by working first at Starbucks, then a grunt job in advertising, then a grunt job in gaming.

Finally I crawled back to San Francisco, where I spent many years amusing myself with various crafts and inventions. And then I washed up in the East Bay, where moved to be with my manfriend, Marco, his dog Daisy (AKA Porkchop, AKA Piggy), and one angry, angry turtle. Then we bought a house. Then we had a baby. Then we had ourselves a surprise wedding!

And somewhere in the middle of that, I wrote myself a little blue book book called The Secret Language of Sleep: A Couple's Guide to the 39 Positions. (Psst...not sure what you're position is? Take the sleep test.)

Over the years, I've enjoyed enjoyed stints as an advice columnist (MSN's Dr. Net, a.k.a. Dr. Neck), Managing Editor for Webmonkey (where I lasted for six boom-then-lean years until I finally got laid off), and then I spent some time working at a bank. For the past few years, I funned it up as a content strategist at Facebook, and now I word for Pinterest, yay!