Acting can be an amazingly cathartic thing - especially for young girls.

You know, Boston people are full of sauce.

My mother came from an Irish family of 11 kids and, of course, had a sister who was a nun, so I spent time at a convent and with an aunt and uncle who lived in New York and took me to the theater.

It's gross. We use real brains - I think they're lamb or cow or something. Intestines smell. Brains don't really smell, but what's amazing about the brain is that it's almost like scrambled eggs or soft tofu, almost like a gel. The brain controls so much of what we do, but you could put your finger right through it.

It's easy to get lost in the baby. You have to make sure you give your husband attention.

The trap is when you start to pay attention to that stuff and care, because in six months, they're going to be looking at someone else. You know how fickle everyone is. They love it, then they hate it, then they love it. So I'm going to enjoy it because it could be over at any minute.

For me, being able to work with somebody who I don't have to translate my experience to all the time - that's important, because I'm not ­having to walk someone down the path of racial understanding to tell a story about a woman of color.