I've always enjoyed doing dishes. Maybe it was the fashionable yellow gloves that I loved so much. It's weird, I know, but I find cleaning cathartic.

Don't get me wrong, I love watching episodes of my favorite shows on Hulu and reading the daily trash on PageSix, but I also embrace the opportunity to settle down with a good book and let my mind travel to another place and time.

I love having wine with my meals. And if I splurge, I'm going to splurge big, because if I deny my cravings, it just ends up backfiring on me, you know?

Sci-fi fans are awesome. They're very smart, they like to be involved, they like to ask questions. I've been asked questions I don't even know the answer to. I've never had any aggressive interactions. I've had lovely interactions.

I love food. I mean, I really love food. I take pictures of my finest, funniest and most fascinating dishes, post them on Twitter, and send them to friends. I treat menus like classic literature, refusing to skip even one word. I read the description of every item, regardless of whether or not I'm interested in eating it.

Yes, I was the child who would sneak into her closet and read 'Nancy Drew' for hours after the designated 'lights out' time of night.

Apparently, despite my awareness of its pejorative connotation, procrastinating is something I fall victim to quite frequently. I'm not proud of it; I'm just being honest.