When I first discovered peanut butter, I polished off two jars of the stuff in two days. And at one point in my life, I only ate croissants and pasta for an entire school year. Nowadays, I’m much more balanced—
I don’t eat pasta for more than three days in a row and as for peanut butter, it takes me more than two whole days to polish off a jar, let alone two. 

I’ve had 23 pets growing up. Rex was the first, a reddish mutt that my grandfather gave to me when I was three years old. He came in a small, cardboard box and had his eyes closed. Around the same time, my grandmother gave me a duckling that would follow me everywhere and that would eventually end up becoming soup… 

My first unpaid job was at the age of 16 as a radio DJ and TV presenter at the local news station. I worked there every day after school, on weekends, on Christmas and New Year’s Holidays—and loved every minute of it. 

I’ve also had Coco and Cora, Tutti and Frutti, my friendly parakeets, three turtles, one bunny, one fish—“This is a zoo, not a house,” my mother used to say— five guinea pigs, three dwarf hamsters, two dogs, and two cats.

Around the age of four, I sat on a tiny chair surrounded by my fellow kindergarten pupils who listened to me recite The Little Match Girl, my favorite children’s story at the time. I derived great enjoyment from seeing their beady eyes focus on me while I narrated away. I did such a good job that the end of my story was met with a standing ovation. 

My dog Roco is my 24th pet. He’s really something else. He’ll hit his nose on a door frame without the faintest hint of pain or discomfort then proceed to lick the very spot of the incident as if he were giving it a “kiss”. 

According to my husband, I have such a sharp and boisterous laughter that every time we go to the movies the projectionist needs to crank up the volume.