Nah... I mean, I'm already pregnant, so what other kind of shenanigans could I get into?

I just go about my life. I'm a mom, I drive an SUV, I go to the grocery store every day. I'm definitely not a celebrity. I always say that I'm a celebrity-adjacent.

Of course, the strippers also take pains not to appear too innocent, valorous, or bookishly inclined. (In direct opposition to the Swayze Mandate of 1987, everybody puts Baby in a goddamn corner.)

If this whole writing thing doesn't work out, I'll be getting right back on the pole.

I don't think I ever got the hang of the writers' room. I love collaborating with people, but I really do my best work alone, and I think I would want to - if I did something again, I think I'd want to take total ownership the way Aaron Sorkin or David Kelley does.

For me, stripping was an unusual kind of escape. I had nothing to escape but privilege, but I claimed asylum anyway. At twenty-four, it was my last chance to reject something and become nothing. I wanted to terrify myself. Mission accomplished.

Tabloid photos capture people at their most self-conscious and disoriented; in real life, Paris Hilton is like an elegant paper crane.