If a book had just enough information regarding every individual being, in a manner such that anyone reading the said book would be able to feel like they knew another, without actually knowing any other– my entry would probably be something like this.
Female, Asian, with your typical long, unnaturally straight, black hair. (Take 150 bucks and multiply it by 4 hours of sitting still. The product of which lays atop my head.) Turtle-shelled geek specs that are flattering, but not strictly in trend. Braces, because God forbid I have enough gum to accommodate all 32 adult teeth. (As a result, I now have 24.) Averagely built, soft down the middle.
Disregards gender when considering attraction, highly regards the state of one’s fingernails instead. (but why let the tendencies of your hormones define who you are?)
Bad with birthdays. Oh boy, so bad with birthdays. Once thought my own birthday was a day later than it actually was. Routinely gives birthday presents late, attempts to chalk it up to “birthdays are arbituary! my love for you doesn’t increase on a particular day!” but they are all lies. The truth is just that I am horrendous with birthdays.
Fatal flaw is my desire for pride, and my tendency to let anger dominate all other emotions. Fatal flaw is my procrastination. Fatal flaw is how when I’m planning the long term, the short term catches up with me and drags me down.
Redemption is awareness, and activity.