Summarizing oneself in a few comments is no mean feat especially since one naturally strives for such a summary to be sharp, profound, peppered with witticisms and oozing charisma. Encompassing all the nuances of one’s personality in a neat and delectable little paragraph is tough. Where does one start? With one’s past? One’s present? One’s driving aspiration for the future? I guess a good place to start is with one’s name. So here we go… My name is Jessica Powell (Jess but please not Jessie for short). Where to go from here? The traditional “age, location, occupation” line seems somewhat mundane (entirely out of keeping with the painfully humorous tone I’m striving for) yet an abstract rambling on how I am more than the sum of facts about me, that I somehow transcend these trivialities is just a little too pretentious. So I’ll go for the traditional line (with a twist)… I’m 20 years old. However, I suffer from a debilitating complex regarding my age. I am 5ft 2, have a baby face and let’s just say I don’t ooze womanly sophistication. This problem is aggravated by the regular checks of my ID at pubs. I’m originally from Abergavenny (South Wales) which is a delightful little town encircled by seven mountains. Now living in York my friends relish the joy they gain from laughing at my use of the word scram (meaning ‘scratch’ not ‘go away’) and my pronunciation of the word ‘tooth’ (I struggle to capture the difference in our pronunciation phonetically). I’m in my third year studying English and Philosophy at York University. I believe this combination has lead to my tendency to over-analyse (see intro to personal intro above). I’m currently undergoing a mid-student-life crisis – there’s the new hobbies (I’m the proud fully-paid member of nine societies), the remorseful nostalgia for my lost youth (I pine for those school days which were brimming with nervous, wonderful intense energy), and undoubtedly there would be the car did I not have a £9000 loan. I like arguing, I dislike arguments. I like food, I hate it when my stomach rumbles in quiet seminars. I like (the comfort value of) tea, I dislike coffee (despite an ardent attempt to condition myself to feel otherwise). I like to prod people’s faces. I dislike people prodding my face/squeezing my cheeks/patting my head (see complex about age). Well my delectable little paragraph is fast becoming a fully blown memoir. But how to end? Bringing the neat bulleted pointed me-story to the end is a tad tricky. I want to go out on a bang. I think ‘The End’ sounds a tad sinister so I guess I’ll stick with the tried and tested formula and finish with my aspirations for the future. I hope to find a job in which I can write to my heart’s content (or judging by the hardship I’ve suffered trying to put this piece together – to my heart’s destruction), I hope to find love (cheese!), I hope to find a little corner of the world in which I feel at home. I hope to remember that ‘the only way to be happy is to be’- oh did I mention I like cheesy quotes! | 
