Because somebody called me mysterious

and I can't remain a mystery for long.

I am a 32-year-old female, five feet four-and-one-half inches tall (making me the shortest member of the family), significantly thinner than the average American woman yet also significantly heavier than your average supermodel. My hair is brown with blond highlights and entirely too much grey for my comfort, my eyes are green (occasionally blue), my glasses are old and hopelessly unstylish, and my face is devoid of makeup because cosmetics are expensive and I'm too klutzy to apply them well on the first try.

On my mother's side I am descended from strong and independent women, beauty queens, and men about whom I know virtually nothing. On my father's side I come from a long line of scientists, eccentrics, and--if you can believe the rumors--elves. My brothers were twelve and almost-fifteen when I was born; the younger one still hasn't forgiven me for the fact that he had to change my diapers.
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