How to Describe Yourself
All about me
I'm twelve years old. I'm large for my age and have big
feet which I am self-conscious about. I look like both my mum and my dad
but in different ways. I have fair hair and blue eyes like my dad, and a
mouth an'd expression like my mum. My nose is like my mother's and
definitely nothing like my father's ( 'thank oodness'). I am very like my
mum in temperament, though I don't have her very hot temper.
I'm rather a tomboy but I'm not violent. I hate
fighting and arguments. I hate being laughed at and some teasing hurts me
more than I show. I tend to sulk when I am annoyed and I tend to be a bit
oversensitive. Friendship is important to me with people of all ages. My
home is very important to me and I would hate to be sent to a boarding
school. On the whole I'm a fairly tidy persorl.
I am quite creative with my hands. I like making models
, pendants and candles as well as other things. I like acting and music, I
play the French horn and can play the trumpet. I am not a very keen reader
because I like to be outside most of the time. I ride my bike a lot and
have been youth hosteling with it. My father lives abroad and I enjoy
travelling to see him. I enjoy my food (especially my French grandmother
as she is an excellent cook! ) and I have a sweet tooth but I hate the
dentist. I don't like my hair being brushed by someone else and I hate it
Finally, the one thing I really find boring is homework
as I would far rather be outside or make something.
I sometimes wonder what my mind is like inside, often I
fancy that it is like this. I feel as if my mind goes round and round like
the earth and if my lessons make me think hard it begins to spin. In my
other class it was getting all stodgy and still and lumpy and rusty. I
feel as if there is a ball in my mind and it is divided into pieces -each
piece stands for a different mood.
The ball turns
every now and then and that's what makes me change moods. I have my
learning mood, my goodlooks mood, my happy mood, my loose-end mood and my
grumpy mood, my miserable mood, my thoughtful mood and my planning mood.
At the moment I am writing this I am in my thoughtful mood.When I am in my
thoughtful mood I think out my maths and plan stories and poems. When my
kitten is in her thoughtful mood she thinks shall I pounce or not, and
shall I go to sleep or not. This sort of thing goes on in my own mind,
too. It is very hard for me to put my thoughts into words.
He's the sort of chap who loves to make entrances and
exits. He'll arrive ten minutes before everybody else and he'll leave ten
minutes before everybody else. He'll come dashing in with a bunch of
flowers, screaming hellos. He likes to be noticed. He loves telling jokes.
He's a well-informed chap and keeps up to date with all the current
affairs. He likes to talk and give his view on life .
successful. When he sets himself a goal, he works hard to attain that and
to achieve it. He knows what he wants and he'll set out to get it. As a
result, he's successful. When you're talking to Roger, sometimes you're
left way, way behind. His mind is whizzing over so fast that you're
talking about something, and he's off at a tangent,talking about something
completely different. He can't sit down. He's not. He can't relax. He's
always jumping up and doing things and finds it hard to concentrate at
She gazes at.herself in wonder. Vanished are her
healthy pink cheeks, her slightly red winter nose, her mole, her little
freckles and blemishes; she is smooth, new made. She dabs a little powder
on top, and stands back to admire the effect. It is pleasing, she decides.
She wonders what it will look like by midnight. Will she be transformed
imo an uneven, red-faced, patchy, blotchy clown? An ugly sister?
When she was twenty-three years old, she met, at a
Christmas party, a young man from the Erewash Valley. Morel was then
twenty-seven years old. He was well set-up, erect, and very smart. He had
wavy black hair that shone again, and a vigorous black beard that had
never been shaved. His cheeks were ruddy, and his red, moist mouth was
noticeable because he laughed so often and so heartily.
He had that rare
thing, a rich, ringing laugh. Gertrude Coppard had watched him,
fascinated. He was so full of colour and animation, his voice ran so
easily into comic grotesque, he was so ready and so pleasant with
everybody. Her own father had a rich fund of humour,but it was satiric.
This man's was different: soft, non-intellectual, warm, a kind of
She herself was opposite. She had a curious, receptive
mind which' found much pleasure and amusement in listening to other folk.
She was clever in leading folk to talk. She loved ideas, and was
considered very intellectual. What she liked most of all was an argument
on religion or philosophy or politics with some educated man. This she did
not often enjoy. So she always had people tell her about themselves,
finding her pleasure so.
In her person she was rather small and delicate, with a
large brow, and dropping bunches of brown silk curls. Her blue eyes were
very straight, honest,and searching. She had the beautiful hands of the
Coppards. Her dress was always subdued. She wore dark blue silk, with a
peculiar silver chain of silver scallops. This, and a heavy brooch of
twisted gold, was her only ornament. She was still perfectly intact,
deeply religious, and full of beautiful candour.