I Like Detective Stories. And Detectives.

Well, allow me to introduce myself to you as an advocate of Ornamental Knowledge. You like the mind to be a neat machine, equipped to work efficiently, if narrowly, and with no extra bits or useless parts. I like the mind to be a dustbin of scraps of brilliant fabric, odd gems, worthless but fascinating curiosities, tinsel, quaint bits of carving, and a reasonable amount of healthy dirt. Shake the machine and it goes out of order; shake the dustbin and it adjusts itself beautifully to its new position.
-Robertson Davies, Tempest-Tost

Just the usual fangirl geekery, with quite a high level of ridiculousness. You know, Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes, Cabin Pressure, Frankenstein, science stuff, about a million books, a slightly high level of curiosity, and a Cheshire cat for good measure. I have no control over my enthusiasm. Oh, and sometimes I inflict my art on you. Sorry.
In the words of Neil Gaiman in Sandman: The weirdness has been getting worse.
Oh, and anyone who guesses who the writing lady in the sidebar image gets nothing in particular, but tell me if you know...
Currently sojourning in England, questing after the wild hedgehog. (Not really but sort of.)
Previously grinningcheshire