Here is my diaryland profile.
Here is a picture of me, shrugging. Tell me I’m skinny. Oh, is that so? Oh. Oh my. Ha, ha ha, ha-ha, ha. Ha. You’re so clever.
This is my blurb:
You know, in all my (checks profile) 348 previous entries, I’ve never really sat down and talked about who I am, or the people I know, etc. I kind of did something half-hearted to that effect at the beginning, and this thing, but other than that, my diary is mostly a jumble of thoughts struggling to be clever.
So, hell, I figured, there’s a picture of me in my design now (note: I was referring to this design), might as well talk about me.
The worst possible thing I could say before you read about me is that the following is going to be random and uninteresting.
As it is right now, Charlie is a fresh escapee from high school. He is asian, skinny, tallish, dorky, and looks somewhere in the age range between twelve to twelve and three months old. Currently attending the local community college (Mirameh) and hoping to transfer to NYU next semester, to major in film. Charlie has made a movie, Switch, that won first place in drama at the San Diego Best Fest Film Festival, not to toot Charlie’s own horn or anything. Charlie’s musical tastes went from techno/trance/house in his early high school years to emo/punk during the summer of his junior year, thanks to his introduction to Jimmy Eat World by best oldest sister Kathy Tran! Yes yes!
Rather than putting up one of those huge 531 facts about me lists, I’ll put all the random stuff about me into one huge sentence:
Charlie’s only pair of shoes are black converse he bought near an Indian casino, and he has his black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and has three sisters who have severed most of his ties with the Y chromosome, and he likes quiet girls who hide the fact that they’re loud girls, and he doesn’t drink, though he drops his cell phone a lot, and he is addicted to Life cereal, and he loves his two dogs but thinks they aren’t so bright, and he loves cats but is allergic to them, which becomes a problem when he hugs them, and he can’t hold down liquid medicine so he has to take it in pill form, and his hair is wavy-curly most of the time except in the morning when it resembles a charred bush, and he thinks writing huge run-on sentences will make him seem clever, and he is tall and skinny and looks thirteen years old, and he likes snowmen, and he really hates Jurassic Park 2: The Lost World, because it has plot holes you can drive a truck through and horrible horrible acting, and he plays computer games, and he always misses the same spots when he shaves, and yes, he does actually need to shave, and he brushes his teeth in the shower, and he always writes his best essays fifteen hours before they’re due, and he likes to draw frightened coconuts, and he writes for girls-suck, and he often stays up all night reading Roald Dahl books so he can see the sun rise, and when he puts on his contacts and the solution drips out his eyes he pretends he’s crying from happiness because he’s accepting an Oscar for Best Director, and now he can’t think of anything more to say.