When I was growing up in Pennsylvania, auditioning for Broadway was my dream.

I suffer from girlnextdooritis where the guy is friends with you and that's it.

Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show. You live like that, you live with ghosts.

When I was younger we had a grape arbor, and my mom would go out and pick grapes and make grape jam in the sink - boil it, put it in jars, and give it away as gifts.

You have to able to make fun of yourself. Don't take things too seriously and when people make fun of you, laugh at it.

You can draw inspiration from anything. If you're a good storyteller, you can take a dirty look somebody gives you, or if a guy you used to have flirtations with starts dating a new girl, or somebody you're casually talking to says something that makes you so mad - you can create an entire scenario around that.

I didn't have friends. No one talked to me. I used to go to the Wyndcroft School (nationally recognized for academic excellence) in Pottstown, and when I moved to Wyomissing, I didn't know anybody.