In the seventh grade, I was about to leave wearing a jumper, when my mom said she could see my panty line. So I just wore stockings. That day I broke my ankle, and the EMS cut my tights off. I got a full cast with no stockings on and no panties.

One day I had to sit down with myself and decide that I loved myself no matter what my body looked like and what other people thought about my body. I got tired of hating myself.

My Plan A was to be a psychologist. I thought I would be a receptionist. I'm always middle of the road and very normal. I've always wanted a normal life, and this is what I got.

I can't go to sleep unless I've watched at least two episodes of American Dad on Hulu or iTunes. It just feels familiar. It's like a lullaby.

Somebody was, like, what's your favorite thing about Twitter? And I was, like, Twitter. And they're like what's the worst thing about Twitter? And I was, like, Twitter.

Well, I'm certainly glad that I was nominated for an Oscar. There is certainly a respect that comes with that nod. Also, a compliment that comes with it, too. Not that I really know what I'm doing. In a lot of ways I feel like some child on set, or like a kid that snuck in the back door.

It's so weird to turn on a switch and be the role model for all women, for all African-Americans. That doesn't happen that easily. It does not. So I don't act up in public and don't do anything weird, because my sisters are watching me. Not because the world is watching me.