At a certain point I became really frustrated with modeling, like, why do I have to go home after school and get dressed up and put makeup on my face, and then go to a photographer's studio where there's 15 other girls with their books and have to prove myself? A lot of people don't think of it that way, but modeling's a hard job, physically and emotionally.

Sure, my childhood was unusual. All these eccentric, wild people frequented our home: rock stars, drag queens, models, bikers, freaks. But I was not this little rich girl. My mom and I lived in an apartment.

The age I'm at now... you go from being a young girl to suddenly, you blossom into a woman. You ripen, you know? And then you start to rot!

I laughed at the whole Cannes Film Festival thing because it didn't feel real. I remember getting off the red-eye when I arrived in France. I had a cowboy had on and some zit medicine, and there were like 15 photographers who jumped over the luggage carousel to take pictures of me.

My dad wears girls' clothes - it's so funny. Sometimes I see him and I'm like, 'Nice shirt!,' because it's from my closet.

I don't think I'm particularly beautiful at all.

My diary is a disaster...I can't spell at all...I'll spell the same word completely differently in the same sentence.