10 things that you may or may not know about me:

1) I’m really, irrationally, afraid rats will eat my toes. I have to live with this fear wherever I go: I curl my feet under me at the movies, sleep with the sheets tucked in even in the heat of the summer, and I have to wear socks or shoes if my feet are going to be under a table for any length of time… To be honest, this phobia has improved dramatically over the years: I used to fall asleep contorted to protect my ears, nose and fingers in addition to keeping my feet covered.
2) In kindergarten I once stole a toy stethoscope from a classmate and brought it home. I got a huge lecture from my mom AND my grandmother, separately and eventually promised to return it to the girl. Well, I didn’t and kept it hidden under my mattress for a while. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t play with it, it was my guilty treasure. A few weeks after, school let out for the summer and I went to France to visit my father. When I came back, my grandmother had renovated the house and the wing that had been my bedroom was walled off. For a long time I was convinced that my stethoscope was buried. I thought it was some kind of cosmic retribution for theft…
3) I cross myself every time I pass a cemetery. I’m not sure why either – the closest way I can explain it to myself is as a sign of respect for the dead… but even that doesn’t ring a true bell of understanding.
4) When I was 12, my cousin, her cousin and I snuck off into the back of the garden to smoke - only we didn’t have cigarettes. That wasn’t enough to stop us though; we rolled up notebook paper into thin tubes and fastened them with scotch tape. For tobacco, we plucked dry(ish) grass from the ground. Phillip, my cousin’s cousin, was the first one to try one. His first puff triggered a coughing fit that launched my cousin and I into hysterics, but didn’t deter us. Troubleshooting, we figured that the thing missing was a filter so we trekked back into the house for cotton balls. Back in our hide-out we stuffed our makeshift cigarette ends with the cotton and, with some trepidation, inhaled. That night, no one could figure out why all three of us had no voice.
5) I luuuurve water. Whenever I’m the slightest bit stressed – I jump in the bath. And if the going gets really tough, I duck my head under water to drown out the world (no pun intended).
6) I can eat and eat and eat. In my family organic vegetarianism is the law, so when I moved out at 18 there was a whole world of meat and junk food just begging to be discovered. And, boy, did I ever oblige! I went through a hot dog phase that probably caused a major boost in 7eleven business. Don’t get me started on bagels or McDonald’s breakfast (in fact, decadent breakfast in general). And I have an ongoing, everlasting, passionate love affair with burgers and fries, medium rare with ketchup if-you-please.
7) I dance. Not just when I’m out or in dance classes but also, I confess, when I am alone. I can’t help it, the rhythm is in my blood: I come home and put some music on and before you know it, my hips are shyly swaying, my toes tentatively tapping… Half an hour later, I’ve stopped everything I’m doing and dancing idiotically through my apartment. And, mind you, this isn’t dancing fit for public consumption it’s all out, mad, entranced booty shaking. And, no, you can not come and watch.
8) I used to write in a British accent. I was nine and living in England when I discovered I had any sort of penned talent, and I guess the accent stuck around my head longer than it did on my tongue. I don’t do it anymore, but maybe I should, maybe there’s a correlation between the nationality of my thoughts and the quality of my work. Would you like a cup o’ tea, mate?
9) I like to give really personal gifts. Or none at all. I actually believe I get more pleasure from the process of choosing, wrapping and giving a present than I do from receiving (well, let me not exaggerate here, it depends entirely on what I’m getting). I’m also not a fan of convention so the farther out my gifts end up being, the more excited I am to give them.
10) In lieu of bedtime stories, my mother used to recite poems to us. As a result I can remember bribes of Hugo and Verlaine. But if you ask me to recite them, they inevitably get tangled in my mind and rhymes of one get mixed in with rhymes of another.