My mother had a lot of phobias. She's pregnant with me and she was a very phobic person. So I was born into phobia, basically.
When I was a teenager, if anyone recognized me for anything I did, it would ruin my day. I couldn't handle it. It was some sort of neurotic phobia. I guess I was paranoid that people would treat me differently, or in an unfair way, because of my job.
My biggest phobia is spiders. When I was in second grade, one of my classmates got bitten. That did it for me.
I'm also taking singing classes as well, not that I ever plan to sing in public in my entire life. I actually have a phobia of singing, so I decided to take some singing lessons to help me get away from the phobia.
I hate having my feet touching stuff. And I've been finding people that have the same thing. It's not a phobia; it just gives me goose bumps.
Well, first of all, let me say that I might have made a tactical error in not going to a physician for 20 years. It was one of those phobias that really didn't pay off.
I don't have phobias. I'm pretty laid back. Nothing really bothers me. I can handle things pretty well.
When a role for a young guy is being offered to me, I think of River Phoenix. It feels like a loss.
The 'Phoenix Sun' did a list of the unsexiest men in the world, and I made it to number one. I beat out Bin Laden. He's a terrorist, hasn't bathed in months. I beat him out. To me it was a great honor.
I would hate now to be married. It does occur to me on occasion that, if I fall and hit my head, there will be no one to make the phone call. But who wants to think about that disaster, I'd prefer not to.
I get a phone call once every 18 months from some mad person who wants me to do something for less than no money and they give me about a week's notice. That's my film career, most of the time.
One day I got a phone call, and Johnny and Dee Dee asked me if I wanted to join their band. I said, 'Yeah.'
I live in reality, and I know at any moment I could stop getting the phone calls and nobody wants to hear me sing or tell jokes anymore.
Money can make people look at you in strange ways. You get phone calls from people you haven't spoken with in a long time, and they'll leave a message saying, 'Do me a favor, call me back. I have something I want to ask you.' I'm not going to answer those calls, because there's always something behind it, like a loan.
Here's how I operate. When I see something I like, 20 years later, I ask her brother for her phone number. She don't even see me coming.
The Google Voice service is a lifesaver for me. My actual phone number changes a lot, so having a canonical Google Voice number that doesn't change - it's actually my same number from high school - is indispensable.
When I go back to family reunions everybody goes, 'Hey cousin! Hey Auntie!' And I'm like, 'Okay I don't know you, I have no idea who you are.' I am auntie and cousin for so many and even the ones in prison call me collect. And I'll be like, 'Which of my family members are giving you this phone number?'
Only my phone number and email are private because I don't want random people calling me. But I like the ability to share everything.
LA is the only place where people know my name and still walk up to me and ask it. And I think that was really representative of a lot of the transplant people in LA. I just found everything so phoney.
I didn't like my hair and makeup one time on a photo shoot, and my publicist told me, 'You should just be happy with it - they haven't had a black girl on the cover since forever.' She's no longer my publicist.
