My version of an Irish exit has an air of deception to it, because it includes my asking loudly, “Where’s the bathroom?” and making theatrical looking-around gestures like a lost foreign tourist. But then, instead of finding the bathroom, I sneakily grab my coat and leave.

Sometimes I eavesdrop on people. I could rationalize it - oh, this is good anthropological research for characters I'm writing - but it's basically just nosiness. It also helps me gauge where I'm at: Am I normal?

Listen, my body is attracted to your body but when you speak it makes my brain angry.

It's really sweet when people tweet at me and say I'm their spirit animal or 'I wish she was my best friend,' which is the nicest compliment. For me, it's like, doing television is so personal because you're in people's homes, so the fact that people feel that way means so much to me.

I, like most women, I dress for other women, I think. If I was going to dress for men, I think in general I would be just wearing, like, a fitted black T-shirt and tight jeans every day.

I think as women, you know, if you are considered a pioneer in these things, you can get really distracted by these other things - you know, people's demands of you reflecting on your otherness. And for this white critic to say, "I don't understand why she doesn't do that" - and you're like, "It's because I'm running a show on a major network and I want the show to continue" - and to sort of guilt me.

Sometimes I aid into the confusion by having my character's name be my name.