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I was an anorexic, beer drinking, class cutting, doodling, shoplifting, skater chick that was into nature, art class, and the beach.

We were in Philadelphia when Manager Pat shifted me from third to short, and right off the bat, I knew I had found my dish. Footwork was more a part of the new position than it had been at third. I suddenly felt I had sprouted wings. A world of new possibilities opened for me.

I wasn't a very good waitress, always spilling things on people and forgetting things. I once spilled ashes all over Mike Wallace's table.

I used to want to be tall, and then I thought, 'If I were tall, then people would say I was pretty and not cute.' And then I realized that there are worse things than being called cute.

I used to work for a catering company - I waitressed for Harry Winston events. I remember being so hungry, I would eat when I was supposed to be catering to other people.

When you first entered the restaurant, I thought you were handsome... and then, of course, you spoke.

I had the taste of the alcohol since I was 11. It allowed me to be clever, charming and to behave outrageously. Acting also allowed me not to be me. So I could indulge every fantasy in this paradise of America.

I was probably the only revolutionary referred to as cute.

The first eight years of my life, we lived in an abandoned diner - we were basically squatters.

Years down the line, I became a food stylist.