I still have a spiritual base and a spiritual foundation. And my conversation with God is very open-ended. I pray for humility, honestly, because it’s very easy to be caught up in this world.
I remember really vividly kneeling by my bed as a nine-year-old, saying my prayers and asking God to give me boobs that were so big that if I laid on my back I wouldn’t be able to see my feet.
I really like to look like a history book. I can look the 1940s, I can look 1970s hippie-chic, or sometimes I’ll pull that ’80s Brooklyn hip-hop kid with the door-knocker earrings.
My dad would give me $10, which is a lot of money when you’re 9, to sing at church, on tables at restaurants, at family functions, just about anywhere.
I’m okay with having bad dance moves. I’m okay with having horrible lower teeth. That’s what makes me me, and for some reason, it’s worked out all right.
The past is like a handful of dust. It filters through your fingers, disappearing little by little. I wish, for one day, I could go back. In another life, I would do things differently.
