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My name's Beth, I'm experimenting with the concept of being nineteen years old, and I'm the only person I know who's the same as me (which is probably the world doing me a kindness), so I guess that's something.

I'm an optimist, a pacifist and a vegetarian. I laugh too loud, I like ideas, and bright colours make me happy. Thinking before I speak is a skill I have yet to master, which leads to many humorous misunderstandings. Also, I have grammar Tourette's.

I live in an anachronism called East Grinstead, which has three separate shops that sell wool, much to my surprise and alarm. I play the flute (badly) and I sing at inappropriate moments, in what I believe wistfully is tune. You should check out Teacosies With Irony, mainly because I'm telling you to, and obedience is next to cleanliness, and also because it's my comic strip, of which I am disproportionally fond. I can't draw for toffee, or any other sugary treat you would care to name.

I'm currently at Sheffield University, allegedly studying biochemistry but mainly learning about socialism, baking and how to make boys pull funny faces. I like the trams and the fact that people in shops call me "duck", and dislike walking up hills and being two hundred miles away from home.

The english language is my bitch and I'll do what I like to it. On that note - don't read my fanfiction, it's appalling.

My brothers are belligerent and numerous, and live in the same house as me on occasion. My parents never seem to leave. The cat was chosen to match the furniture, I think. It might be the other way around.

Knitting is better than most other activities on the planet. When the revolution comes, all yarn artists will be spared. Morris dancers will be the first against the wall.

Talk to me. I'll like you. Unless you're boring. In which case, I won't.

Unless you're pretty.