I think about my dwindling anonymity, and that's really scary because a very large part of me would be perfectly happy living on a ranch in Colorado and having babies and chickens and horses - which I will do anyway.
I have bizarre anxiety about being in a city - I have no idea who I am or where I am.
I think there's a part of a woman that wants to be the thing that breaks a man down.
I want my outfit to match my mood.
I feel like you learn how to do school in second grade through fifth grade. During those years, I was never home.
The idea of being at home and picking up kids from school and cooking dinner and then the husband comes home - there's something that seems really nice to me 'cause I never had that growing up. And it seems so enticing. But in my mind, I'm like, 'Well, I'll just play that in a movie and go about my own life, bizarre as it is.'
I missed the television train at some point. I don't know what happened, but now I've created a complex about it. I'm missing out on what everybody's watching, and now I can't even begin to think about starting to watch a television show because it's been so long. I don't even have a Netflix account.