Beth is a lazy bum. But she’s not. But she definitely is though. She refuses to wake up in the morning unless I text her a minimum of fifteen times and call her three times and give her a handful of reasons why waking up is a good idea. If not for me, I’m 70% positive she never would have graduated high school and would be dropped from all of her classes in college. I seriously wonder where I would be if she didn’t exist and vice versa. Lonely and hateful, mostly likely.
Beth hates pants. You think you hate pants. No. Beth loathes pants. She would rather wear a dress or shorts or nothing at all. She also calls her legs thunder thighs and despises my comparison to her and a softball player because, apparently, that is a direct correlation to being butch and being mistaken for a lesbian.
Beth is addicted to Pepsi Max. I could bury myself with the empty cans in her bedroom and kitchen. Her recycle can stays in her garage which means that even though it is only 8 feet from the kitchen, no one walks all the way. A pile of cans will being to over take the kitchen before Beth eventually takes half an hour to walk all of them to the garage. Her pantry is a plethora of ingredients but little to nothing that is ready to eat. You bake or you starve.
Beth is quite seriously in love with Martin Freeman, his face and his sweater collection, separately and in that order. To add to this list, she also loves Benedict Cumberbatch and Rupert Graves with a fiery passion. Basically any British man that is 20 years older than her is free game. Beth has a special place in her heart reserved for BBC Sherlock. It is a constant topic and she ships Sherlock/Watson like it’s the arc and is her only hope of survival in life. Even though she adores the show to no end, she won’t make any original posts about it on Tumblr for fear of all the ridiculously quality blogs out there making a mockery of her. Their gifs and edits are far too beautiful to ever compete with.
Beth hates the general public and avoids it at all costs. We only go to the gym after 8 pm so that only a few people will be attending at the same time as us. If we are sitting down to eat, she will hurry me if more than 3 other people are eating in the building. She doesn’t want a job because that would require asking someone if they are hiring and that is far too much embarrassing human interaction for her liking.
Beth wishes she could dance like Florence Welsh and plans on seeing her live on July 1st. Florence and the Machine is her favorite artist. Favorite band being Muse and Mumford and Sons. She hates the song Love Song because it somehow always plays when she steps into the gym.
Her brother is a swag artist that will grow up to be the fourth member of the Blue Man Group. Her sister has a fierce fashion sense for being in elementary school and obsessed with Monster High Dolls. Her mom is some sort of badass assassin/scientist/spy and generally mysterious.
Beth has four names equaling 32 letters in total, just like mine. I have two middle names where she has two last names. Her real name isn’t Beth. She doesn’t like her first name but insists on confusing everyone by putting it as her Facebook name so that no one can tag her as anything but that long ass name that no one uses.
SO MUCH MORE but I will stop now.
Everything about this is perfection.
Also: for those that didn’t know, I also go by Beth. (Beth is shorter than Patricia Elizabeth)