I've thought for a long time that my body type would have worked well in the '70s. The idea that you could be a broad-shouldered, small-breasted woman and still wear really great outfits.

I remember walking into drugstores when I was younger and seeing all the hair color boxes on the shelves and just being so in awe. Having the control to dye your hair and change your look is such a part of self-expression.

Mick Jagger has produced some great films and brought us stories about the music industry that have changed the way we think about how music is made.

You're 30: You know stuff now. Your 20s were for 'ducking up,' as my auto-correct would say, and learning from those mistakes. (For instance, never again will I convince myself that sleep is for sissies and go straight from a party to the airport. You will not 'sleep on the plane'; you'll vomit in the security line. Go to bed.)

I am so saddened and grossed out by young women who look like creepy, old aliens because of their new Barbie noses and lips. Is that a smile or a grimace?

The trauma of the whole thing has been humbling, and for the first time, I'm a little bit wobbly.

If I could play drums like Patrick Carney or Taylor Hawkins, I'd be a really happy person.