her name was mallory. she was twenty-two years old. she was an english major with an almost sickening love for all things verbose and descriptive. she was from chicago, illinois, and she couldn't imagine ever living anywhere else (although london was calling). she wished she had shiksappeal. she loved film and secretly desired to go to film school. she couldn't live without the theatre, especially her beautiful theater company. she loved to eat, maybe a little too much. she couldn't comprehend where people got that idea that she was a therapist, although judging from the amount of time she listened to and fixed her friends problems, it could be reasonably assumed. she was obsessed by the internetz and loved her fandoms well. she wanted, she really, really did, to find something to contribute to the world. that's why she wanted to write, she thought.