I Want To Thank My Parents For

I Felt Like That Character In Flowers For Algernon. Not Charlie, The Lady Teacher From The College Who Realizes, 'i've Got To Stop Dry-humping This Mentally Challenged Guy!

I Had To Face The Fact That I Had Been Using My Gay Friends As Props. They Were Always Supposed To Be Funny And Entertain Me And Praise Me And Listen To My Problems, And Their Life Was Supposed To Be A Secret That No One Wanted To Hear About. I Wanted Them To Stay In The “half Closet.

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.

It Will Never Be Perfect, But Perfect Is Overrated. Perfect Is Boring On Live Tv.

When Actors Are Too Good-looking, I Can’t Memorize Them. For Example, I Have Never Seen A Picture Of Sienna Miller Where I Didn’t Say, “that Girl’s Pretty. Who Is That?