I don't know what I can do about the aging. Yes, I am aging. Oh my God, I'm aging all the time. It's like those flowers that wilt in front of you in time-lapse films. But what can I possibly do? Look like a lunatic?

I got to thinking about relationships and partial lobotomies. Two seemingly different ideas that might just be perfect together - like chocolate and peanut butter.

I thought if I had straight hair and a perfect nose, my whole career would be different.

I write about sex, not love. What do I know about love?

It's a tricky time because people are going after the wrong people, too. There's a misplaced rage and aggression, that as a person in a public position you almost feel like you have to be perfect now when you express yourself. It feels almost unfortunate.

~As a working mother high heels don't really fit into my life anymore - but in a totally wonderful way. I would much rather think about my son than myself.~

Do we need distance to get close?