Isn't it sort of awkward to describe one's self? Whenever you use good adjectives for yourself, it's just bragging! It's much easier to describe another character. Therefore, I am going to talk about myself in third person omniscient (because omniscient is best)
The medium-sized Asian-American twelve year old sipped at her double-chocolate frappe, her large, brown, thoughtful eyes darting across the page of her latest fantasy novel. Her black hair fell in front of her eyes, curling ever-so-slightly at the end, being an immense bother. Ever since she had decided to let her hair grow out, to experiment per-say, it was a pain to take care of. How she wistfully recalled the days when her hair only reached her ears and her low bangs allowed her to visit the barber's once a month! She missed Melissa, the spunky punk hair cutter with a lip piercing to whom she talked about bands, shoes and movies. Her parents were delighted at the idea of not going to the salon very often, with little money to spare on eyebrow length bangs, she would have been forced to allow her hair to grow out anyway. Oh well, selavi. Her button nose flared as she smelled the delightful scent of chocolate macadamia nut cookies, fresh from the oven. She was a bit of a foodie and adored anything that wasn't horribly greasy (or ketchup. She loathed ketchup.) or raw (Cold foods just didn't make sense to her!). Her nose took control of her body and soon she was nibbling on the biscuit with a glass of 1% milk. Suddenly inspired, she whipped out her sketch book and drew a picture of the cookie being nibbled with the glass of milk in the background. She peered at it. It seemed pretty good, if she might say so herself. Casually, she flipped through the pages of her sketchbook, looking at anime-style people, animals, plants, characters, furniture and plush toys. Not much of it was colored, beside a few of the works she had done for her DA page ( and a couple of experiments with shading. Coloring was such a hassle. Pencils did the trick, most of the time. She turned to the next page and found a sketch of her family and pets, her father, stepmother, step siblings and brother, along with her two dogs and cats. They were all quite smashed together in the drawing, and June wondered how she had even fit that many people in in the first place. Shrugging, she shouldered her patch/button/dinosaur shoulder bag and walked home from Barnes & Noble.