You would be amazed at the pompadour that I was rocking in the first job I had on the soap opera called 'Loving,' my first contract job.
If you don't like or care about your job, what's the big deal? I am so over it.
There's no point in living in an alternate reality.
Some people with blogs are never going to get famous, and they've been doing it for, like, over a year. I feel bad for them.
If you want to do what you want to do, you have to look a certain way.
I don't want the IRS banging down my door.
Everyone should have a blog. It's the most democratic thing ever.
I'm drawn between the light and dark.
High blood pressure, cheeriness at breakfast, a mellowing political philosophy, and an inability to drink more than half a bottle of proof spirits at cocktail time without falling over the fire irons all suggest dark wings hovering overhead and the impending midnight croak of the raven.
Diabetes taught me discipline.
Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. May I? Oh, no. You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.