| What is your most memorable childhood experience? | When I was 10 years old, I decided to turn my passion for music into something tangible—quite literally. For a couple of years, I couldn't settle on an instrument, but eventually, I chose one of the most challenging: the bagpipes! Though mastering the instrument was no easy feat, it gave me the opportunity to perform for thousands of people across various venues, travel internationally, and develop a skill that has stayed with me into adulthood. |
| What immediate family member do you closely identify with and why? | I deeply identify with my paternal grandfather, a remarkable and complex individual. A World War II veteran, he not only created several groundbreaking patents but also spoke multiple languages. His hands-on skills were matched only by his sharp intellect. A man of great patience, he taught me invaluable lessons—lessons I still carry with me today. I often wish he were still here to share more of his wisdom. |
| What character traits do you admire in an individual? | I admire integrity, empathy, resilience, courage, humility, responsibility, and generosity. |
| What is the funniest thing ever to happen to you? | It was a normal Saturday morning, and I was feeling optimistic. I decided it was time to clean the house, get everything organized, and feel like an actual adult. So, I grabbed my cleaning supplies, turned on some music to set the mood, and got to work. Now, I’ve always been one of those people who believes in multitasking. I can’t just vacuum the living room. Oh no, I’ve got to vacuum while dusting and, of course, taking a quick phone call from my mom—because that’s what responsible people do, right? So, there I was, chatting away, vacuuming under the couch (because, yes, I’m that person who cleans under the couch), and feeling pretty smug about how much I was accomplishing. That’s when I saw it. A sock. Not just any sock—my sock. The sock that had been missing for weeks. The one that I’d almost given up on. I was overjoyed! In my excitement, I stretched my arm out to grab it, all while continuing my conversation with my mom. And then... whoosh! The vacuum hose decided it was a great time to suck up that sock. I panicked. I screamed. I immediately yanked the vacuum cord out of the wall and tried to rescue my beloved sock. You know when you hear a strange noise, like something’s caught inside the vacuum, and you think, “Oh, it’ll just work itself out”? That was me, shaking the vacuum like it was a magic lamp. After a few more failed attempts, I finally opened the vacuum bag to see what was going on. And there it was: my sock, completely wedged inside the vacuum filter like it was a prisoner. In a moment of sheer genius (and desperation), I tried to use a broomstick to prod it out. But somehow, I managed to knock over a vase of flowers, spill some cleaning supplies, and, in the process, nearly knock myself out with the broom. In the end, I got my sock back. But I also realized that, in the grand scheme of things, the sock was probably better off in the vacuum anyway—because I was definitely in no condition to do anything else that day. |
| If time and money were not an issue, where would you travel and why? | Okay, I’ll admit it: I’ve become that person. The one who spends too much time scrolling through travel blogs and Instagram photos, daydreaming about a life I can’t afford. But it’s not my fault—have you seen Lake Como, Italy? If you haven’t, allow me to paint you a picture: lush green hills, crystal-clear waters, villas that look like they belong to royalty (which they probably do), and sunsets so beautiful that even the sun looks like it’s trying to one-up the rest of the universe. It’s like someone took a painting and slapped it onto Earth as if to say, “Yes, this is what paradise looks like.” I’ve been fantasizing about Lake Como for months. The idea first hit me after watching a movie with George Clooney—yes, that George Clooney—who owns a villa on Lake Como. And let’s be real, if George Clooney owns a villa there, I should at least visit. It’s practically my duty to experience it, right? The man’s got taste. But here’s the thing: I’m not a wealthy international celebrity or some yacht-owning socialite who wears white linen pants and speaks Italian fluently. I’m just a regular person who makes questionable decisions at 2 a.m. and has a Netflix subscription. But I’ve convinced myself that all I need to do is book a flight, pack a few oversized scarves (because apparently that’s how you blend in), and voila! I’ll be strolling along the lakeside, sipping espresso like I’ve lived there for years. It’s not just about the view—though honestly, if I just had a picture of me with that view, I could probably retire from social media and call it a win. No, it’s about the lifestyle. You know, the effortlessly chic, “I don’t care but I look fabulous anyway” vibe that seems to be exclusive to people in Lake Como. I can already see it now: me, casually standing on a balcony with a glass of wine, pretending to understand the finer points of Italian cuisine while really just hoping no one notices I’m still Googling “how to properly pronounce ‘prosciutto.’” And I haven’t even mentioned the food yet. Pasta, risotto, gelato—the holy trinity of Italian cuisine. I can already hear the nonna from the nearby restaurant shouting, “Mangia!” as I scarf down my third bowl of risotto, as if I’ve been doing this all my life. Sure, I’ll probably gain 10 pounds, but who cares? It’s Lake Como. Calories don’t count there, right? In conclusion, I need to go to Lake Como, not because I have a deep connection to the Italian countryside or because I’ve studied Italian history (I haven’t), but because I deserve to look like a celebrity in my own mind for a few days. And if I happen to see George Clooney—well, that’s just fate. |
| When and if you ever have children, what would you like to pass on to them? | If I ever have children, there are a few things I would love to pass on to them, things that have shaped who I am and that I hope will help them navigate life with kindness, resilience, and joy. First, I would want to pass on a sense of curiosity. The world is full of wonders, big and small, and I want them to always ask questions, seek knowledge, and never lose their sense of awe. I’ve always believed that curiosity leads to growth, to discovering new passions, and to finding beauty in unexpected places. Secondly, I’d want to pass on the value of kindness. Life can sometimes be challenging, and while we can’t always control what happens to us, we can control how we treat others. Whether it’s showing empathy, offering a helping hand, or simply being there for someone, kindness has a ripple effect that can make the world a better place. I want them to know that small acts of kindness are never small, they matter, and they change lives. Resilience is another trait I’d hope to pass on. Life is rarely a straight path, and there will be moments of struggle and hardship. But I want my children to know that it’s not the setbacks that define us, but how we respond to them. I want them to embrace challenges, learn from failures, and understand that it’s okay to stumble as long as we keep moving forward. And lastly, I would want to pass on the importance of laughter and finding joy in the little things. Life can be serious and demanding, but laughter has a way of lightening even the heaviest of moments. Whether it’s sharing silly jokes, dancing in the kitchen, or enjoying a beautiful sunset together, I want them to cherish the simple joys of life, knowing that happiness can often be found in the most unexpected places. Above all, I would want my children to know that they are loved, unconditionally and deeply, for exactly who they are. Love is the foundation that supports everything else, and I’d want to pass on a sense of belonging, warmth, and security that they can carry with them wherever they go. If I could offer them even a fraction of these things, I’d consider myself incredibly fortunate. |
