I guess I'm lucky to have been blindsided. I'm lucky to have gotten into fistfights, in a way. I'm lucky I learned how to stop them.

Fun wouldn't be the right word... it was the most difficult, challenging, physical, extraordinary stretch I've ever had to make, in all those wild regards.

I used to be more paranoid and stressed, constantly worrying about my Plan B. But the truth is I don't have one.

And I haven't read a lot of blogs but if someone writes about what they care about I'm sure it's interesting.

I think everybody has a hard time connecting, but as you get older and you want more and you expect more and you know more, it's just different. If you start wanting too much from it without it naturally unfolding, then that makes it bad. If you start not wanting anything, then you are not serious. I mean it's just this conundrum of issues.

I had to go to a mirror and look at it. I couldn't picture myself in my own head. I had no image beyond a stick figure. I wasn't a mean person as a kid, or dumb, and something has to be said to justify excluding you.

I wanted to seem completely invisible but whenever you're saying someone else's words and relaying the story of someone else's life, it's not you.