She thought she was exuding this persona of cosmopolitan confidence and soulful artistic wit; but it was just an awfully thin, cracked sheen, covering a rather sad, lost girl who copied things other people did to invent some sort of personality for herself. She was like a weird amalgam of people she respected, or had seen on the EtherMat, or read about in trashy magazine; and she found it a constant battle to keep all these disparate bits together.