The thing that drives me nuts is when I get stopped in a crowded place, and they look at me and say, 'Who are you?' I don't know if they're friends or fans, and I say, 'I'm Annabella Sciorra', and they say, 'What have you done?' So I start to give them my resume. It's so embarrassing.
One of the people who most influenced me was Ben Shapiro, a marketing professor at the business school. He used to rant and rave and pound his fist: 'It's all about the customers!' And he was right. He was also right that, at that time, retailing was devoid of really talented people; he urged me to go in that direction.
I retain what's interesting to me, but I don't have a lot of strategic depth.
I had braces; I was lucky, 'cause I had some snaggle teeth. I always try and keep my retainer on me 'cause I'm paranoid about my teeth. It was run over by a car, so half of it's missing, but it still works.
I've learned a lot just being around LeBron. People say things about him all the time, but he would never say anything back. That's what I learned from him: Don't retaliate to articles or pieces or to things that are said about me.
It's difficult for me to really temper my personality, but I am trying to be a little more sensible about it. If I really lose my temper, I go to my room and scream and shout, but I try not to lose it on people any more. I've never said something mean just like that. I've only said things in retaliation.
Me, I'm spiritually retarded, I need to be knee deep in water with a fly rod in my hands, that's about as close to God as I get.
I've been told that I'm incompetent, socially retarded, maladjusted. I still know that I couldn't function in reality. Los Angeles is a good place for me.
I've had tons of bullies who would call me retarded, even on my Facebook page. It's sad and it really hurts. I want to tell people not to use the word. Don't say your friend's retarded when they do something foolish. If you have a disability, keep working hard. Whatever it takes, do it, and don't be mean to people.
Rather than engage in the sort of selective retention that so many investors tend to do and pretend mistakes never happened, I prefer to 'own' them. This allows me to learn from them and, with any luck, avoid making the same errors again.
Nowadays, people often ask me when I came out, generalising from the experience of many young people who announce themselves to the world on a particular afternoon. But I did not divorce my reticence in a single sharp break. Rather, I seeped out like a spreading wine stain.
I always, by an involuntary act of defensiveness, return to my everyday self: so, I find, have I withdrawn from writing about experiences which have most closely concerned and disturbed me. I have been deflected by my own reticence.
Retirement is not in my vocabulary. They aren't going to get rid of me that way.
Let me tell you exactly what we would do on Social Security. Yes, we'd raise the retirement age two years and phase it in over 25 years; that means we'd raise it one month a year for 25 years when we're all living longer, and living better lives.
I don't want there to be a time where I'm 'too old' to box on, or where an injury retires me in or out of the ring.
My retiring days are behind me - they're going to have to throw me out now.
And now, dear sister, I must leave this house or the retreating army will make me a prisoner in it by filling up the road I am directed to take.
That's what fascinates me about these writers' retreats: You're in these small spaces with small groups of people, and all of the sudden, the spotlight is shining on you harder than it normally is.
Part of me wanted to disappear into a cave in India, and I did end up going on retreats there, but, don't ask me why, I always felt very strongly that the point for me was to find a way to live a truly spiritual life in the modern day world and be able to work with all the positive aspects of our cultural and technological advancements.
New Year's Eve is not about having a big party for me. It's a time of reflection, and I often go on spiritual retreats.
