I'm often told I'm mature. I like to think I'm still a kid, and use that as an excuse. I can't get by without books. Classics are a passion for me. I can read pretty much anything as long as it's fiction. I can't stop myself from buying books. I don't re-read books. I have a guilt complex. My smile is a sort of grin and I don't think people smile as readily as they should. I don't understand sarcasm. I'm allergic to all kinds of smells (except for food, maybe). My family will always see me as the kid who needs looking after. I've been to 6 countries and I've lived abroad for most of my life. I ask the silliest questions. I own a guitar, learned for 2 months and now it's abandoned. I'm boring. I sometimes live on twitter. I think it's among humanity's finest inventions and takes the concept of wasting time to a whole new different dimension. I have a complicated relationship with facebook. I absolutely adore blogs. I hate the assumptions people make about you so freely. I don't have a favorite color, book, food, tv show, movie, place, shop. I'm a bit more self-centered than the next person. I write for my personal well-being. I have a serious fear of being a hypocrite. I admire people's self-assuredness. I face a lot of expectations from those around me. I'm pro at making empty threats. I take what you say to heart. I'm clueless and a broken-record. I'm an annoying optimist. I want so much. I don't expect that much from myself. I live in my head and it's not so healthy. There can be so much good in people without them having the faintest idea of it. I hate those who give themselves airs for all the wrong reasons, not that it's ever ok to have airs. Friends, the TV show, makes me laugh hysterically. I can't do anything alone (I have a twin sister, it comes with the job description). I will blabber incoherently if given the chance.