There's nothing I hate more than gritty, linty, mysterious pocket schmutz in the cap of my lip moisturizer - or, even worse, on the applicator itself. I shudder at the thought.

My house is filled with books, most of which I have read, some of which I intend to eventually get to. I'm always reading at least one work of fiction and one work of non-fiction simultaneously. Whatever mood I'm in, there's always a book nearby to suit it.

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.

The list of problems that we all experience may be endless, but I honestly cannot abide by the rule that, 'He who yells louder is heard.'

I thought that I'd have a briefcase-and-power-suit career.

I know my football. And I adore football players. The crashing noise of a tackle, the huddle grunting, and the roar of the crowd are music to my ears.

People ask me about fighting in real life and, honestly, it wouldn't look as graceful as it does in film and TV.