My autobiography :

When I was two, my father was with one of his friends at home. I had learned to walk, and I ran all the time and all over the place. My father's friend had come from Serbia with a bottle of alcohol. This alcohol was very strong. They talked with a drink of this alcohol and my drink of water was next to their drinks. I was so thirsty that I didn't care about what drink was mine. Of course, I took my father's drink and I drank this alcohol down. My face became red and I ran more and more in the house. My parents and my father's friend burst out laughing. I remember this because my parents have told me this memory which is fixed in their mind. We laugh a lot when we talk about it. Maybe that's why I love alcohol now (I love white wine in particular).

One memory..

When I was 6 years old, my family and me went on a travel to Hungary, Austria, and on the way we stopped in Italy for 15 days. We were with my lovely dog. He was very tall, he was a golden retriever, his name is Jimmy. I played with him all the time.

One day, some other day, I was walking Jimmy. We were playing with a ball, we were running, etc. But when we returned home, my dog became a veritable monster! Why? Because he stopped me on the way home, I didn't move. I didn't know why he was doing this, then I understood. Jimmy was peeing, Jimmy was peeing all over me, Jimmy was peeing on me in front of all the people! In front of my brother, and my Italian friends! All the people were laughing, absolutely all the people, my brother didn't help me, my brother was laughing too. It was horrible, my dog was bad.

Since that day, I've hated Jimmy. You understand why?

I remember, a Saturday when I was fourteen years old. I was at my uncle and his girlfriend's wedding, His girlfriend was wearing a beautiful white dress. At dinner time we were with the family. I was with my sister sitting at the table when, all of sudden, I heard a strange sound. When I saw my sister laughing I understood there was a problem. My blue dress was torn and I was in my underwear in the middle of my family. Today I remember this day I find humoristic but it wasn't always the case. I don't think I'll ever go to a wedding again.

MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY

 when I was eight, my parents organized a party with a lot of friends to celebrate my father's birthday and my mother had bought lots of things to eat and to drink. On that day I tasted aniseed syrup for the first time, and all of a sudden, we had an electricity cut and it was too dark in my house. I was thirsty and I wanted to finish my glass but I confused my glass of aniseed syrup with my father's pastis !

When the electricity came back, my father told me : “Where is my glass of pastis ? “ and ever since that time I've never ever drunk aniseed syrup or pastis for that matter because I don't want to confuse it an other time. My father told me off and punished me for 2 weeks.

I remember when I was five, I went horse-riding with a friend and my instructor. We arrived on a path with lots of fields around it.

Me and my friend stopped and my instructor had to go further away and we had to join her. When we went to join her, our ponies turned into a big field very fast and me and my friend fell off and my poney trod on my belly and my breathing was stopped for a second. After that, I gave up horseriding for a whole year.

When I lived in Seyssin in Isère, we had a little house close by train. When it was the birthday of one of us, the party took place at home.

My grandmother is Creole so it was normal for me; even as a baby to love dancing on rhythmic music ,

I can remember one party : It was my god mother's birthday . Everyone was dancing and me, I wanted to dance, but I was just here to look at them. So, I walked to the first piece of furniture I could find with difficulties, I climbed onto the table and I started dancing in my nappies, I moved my little body and I said “Look at me,look at me! I'm a star” All my family was laughing.

My Autobiography:

“When I was approximately three,

I was at nursery school like a lot of other children of this age. I had a friend, Faustine, who was a really bad little girl.

This memory takes place on a rainy day, when we were about to take our break. The playground was covered and there was a slide and a wonderful sandbox. Of course, our teacher had forbidden us to go play in it. But my “bad girl” friend didn't listen to the warning and she immediately jumped into the sandbox. She asked me if I wanted to follow her, which I did after having watched our teacher who hadn't said anything to us. We played a long moment until the teacher told us to come back to class.

I'll let you guess what happened: she let us wait outside the classroom and once all the children had gone in, she turned to us and said;

“-You are totally covered in damp sand. You cannot come in with us. So, you will get out and wait until twelve.”

I remember that I felt very stupid, on that day...”

I remember September the 12^th, 2012, it was my birthday, I remember it as if it was yesterday ! Many of my friends had wished me a happy birthday including my best friend who had offered me a gift. A beautiful jewel, I'm wearing now. The weekend that followed, my best friend had organized a birthday party with my best friends in a remote village. I remember we had a barbecue. Later on we danced, sang, because we drank a lot, so we had been up to mischief. Finally we went to bed at 5 o'clock in the morning. I won't say the state we finished in.

English: Memories

- In my early childhood, at the age of three, I was the youngest of my family and I was lovin'it but unfortunately, on this sad day on the 29th of January 1999, my mother gave birth to a little, insignificant, horrible demon which my parents called a baby girl. Early, very early in the morning, my father took me and my two big sisters to the maternity clinic to say «Hello» to this new baby who was going to steal cuddle comfort away from me. I was angry, terribly angry but I had a plan ! When my father opened the room where my mother and the little meat thing called «my little sister» were living, I went straight to the «thing» and slapped its face in a gesture which was charged with hate ! Immediately, the baby began an innocent cry. I don't know what happened in my mind at that moment but a sense of shame filled me, desperate, I apologized to my sister and my parents. Now I am in a very good relationship with my little sister and this mishap is long forgotten...

My Autobiography

My father used to do kickboxing, he did it for about 20 years, and he was a policeman, so he was very strong.

When I was little, I liked to fight with my father all the time. But because he was so strong, he always won. I didn't like losing, so I tried again and again but always lost … Which was quite normal, because I must have been about six years old.

But sometimes my father hurt his ribs or even broke one while kickboxing, and he lied down on the couch, resting. And then it was time for revenge. I came to see him, and when he wasn't paying attention, I pushed on his ribs, or even climbed on him and pushed with my knee. That must have hurt a lot! Now, he doesn't go kickboxing anymore, so when I'm angry now, I just hit him in the stomach.