Comics who grew up surviving their childhood by being able to be the first one to make the joke about their weight or their hairy arms - like me - whatever they're insecure about, whatever they're apologizing for, that becomes their strength.

That still feels like the most accurate description - I felt homesick, but I was home.

I do enjoy and feel compelled to talk about things that are taboo. One, because I think I'm a troublemaker inside, if someone says, "Don't say that," it's all I want to say. And also, something I learned in therapy ... which is darkness can't exist in the light, and then that made me think of something that Mr. Rogers said, which is, "If it's mentionable, it's manageable."

I don't think there is a woman in her 40s who doesn't, kind of, examine herself in the mirror.

I have lows, you know, everybody does ... but I kind of know how to handle it. I like to let myself wallow in it. I enforce it with terribly sad music, and it kind of pushes me through to the other side eventually, and I always know it's going to pass.

I became known for surprising audiences. Except now, if I surprise them every time, they expect that.

I remember my first standup act when I was seventeen; I did a really lame song about being flat chested. I was doing it in New York, and I remember Kevin Brennan, the guy I lost my virginity to, was like "That song doesn't make sense, you have tits."