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I thought I was going to be a veterinarian. I was good in science and in math, and I loved animals.

When I was a young girl, I was so crazy about animals that I wanted to do something associated with them, and I thought of being a vet. But then again, I figured I had to go to medical school, and science wasn't a good subject for me, so I dropped the idea pretty soon and thought maybe I could be a vet's assistant.

In my early teen years, I wanted to become a vet. That was my plan. I worked as a veterinarian's assistant for a couple of summers.

If I could stomach the awful part of being a veterinarian, which involves sticking your hand up animals' behinds, I would be a vet.

If I could be involved in the hunting and fishing industry, that would be amazing. That said, I studied biology in college and that led into me being really involved in anatomy and being a pre-med major.

I wanted to be a physical therapist because I had torn up my knee and thought it was interesting with the rehab and whatever. I did kinesiology, and after the first four days of class, I dropped out because I was like, 'This ain't the class for me!'

I was sure I wanted to grow up to be either a veterinarian or a writer. In fact, I worked for a vet during high school, doing everything from cleaning cages to assisting in surgery.

I love to take care of people, so I think I'd be a good vet. I always wanted to be a vet when I was little.

I went to Columbia University because I knew I wanted to go to a school that was academically rigorous. I prided myself on getting good grades, but I also hated it.