I believe my favorite food would have to be anything I don't have to make myself! I guess I'll be more specific, though...

My favorite food changes with my mood. If I'm really happy, I fresh fruit. If I'm super depressed, I like Ben and Jerry's Brownie Batter ice cream. When I am contemplative, I like munchy things, like Cheetos. But if I feel like gabbing with a friend, I'll eat chocolate chip pudding cookies. If I'm feeling romantic, nothing beats Cheesecake Factory cheesecake.
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I know exactly which talent I would choose if I could have one. Athletic. I am the least athletic person you have ever met. I can't throw a ball, I can't catch a ball. I won't ski because I know I'll break one or more bones. I'm a clutz.

I was always jealous of the "jocks" in school. They were popular just because they could play a sport. I'm sorry! I'm a choir nerd! It can't be helped! I tried out for volleyball once in the 8th grade. What a joke! If we had a competitive badmitton te...
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Frankly, I don't think I have grown up yet! So I still don't know what I want to be. But when I was a child, I wanted to be a singer in NYC. Opera or Broadway, I didn't care. Then when I was in high school, I was going to major in Psychology. Well...that lasted one semester once I found out my Psych teacher needed therapy!

So here I am. I have a degree in Communications and I am a mom. And I wouldn't trade staying home with her for any stage, office, paycheck, anything.
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Let's see...I'll try and think of a memory I didn't repress...just kidding. It's difficult to think of a favorite childhood memory, since I had a really good childhood. If I had to choose, it would be when I was around 4 or 5. My dad had a position in our church that required him to go to a lot of meetings. I don't know why, but sometimes he would take me along. There was a big table in the center of the room and I remember crawling under it and playing during their meetings. I thought it was so...
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Well, since my husband went without me before we were married, I'd pick a month-long trip throughout Europe. And since money is no object, we'd be staying in the frou-frou hotels where they don't just leave a chocolate on your pillow, but you have your own Belgian chocolatier in an adjoining room, ready to make whatever you want ("Yes Francois, I'd like a scrapbook album made from chocolate please. And include the embellishments in white chocolate. I like contrast!").
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