Why Are My Arms So Weak? It's

Everybody Kind Of Gets To Be The Person They Didn't Get To Be.

The Only Way I Could Get Comfortable Around People Was To Make Them Laugh.

Some People Work With A Trainer, Some People Work With A Stylist. I Work With A Celebrity Fecalist. A Fecalist Is Basically A Person Who Comes And Collects My Stools, And Then Examines Them To See If I'm Eating Right And If I Should Be Drinking More Water And What My Moods Should Be.

I Got A Fan Letter On The Back Of A Prison Menu. And I Remember Thinking, 'well, They Get Pie. It's Not So Bad. They Get Pie On The Weekends.' I Want To Say Blueberry And Also A Boston Cream Pie. Not So Bad.

Once Or Twice A Week I Would Set My Alarm For Six A.m. So I Could Get Up And Plug In Hot Stix...i Would Study The Curls In The Mirror, Impressed With Both The Appliance And My Newfound Ability To Use It. Then, Without Fail, At The Last Second Before Leaving For School, I Would Ask Myself, "am I Supposed To Brush It Out Or Leave It?" Why Could I Never Remember" That Feeling Of "i'm Pretty Sure This Next Step Is Wrong, But I'm Just Gonna Do It Anyway" Is Part Of The Same Set Of Instincts That Makes Me Such A Great Cook.