My mom always wanted me to be an actor. And I started going to theater and going on auditions young.
It was my mom and I against the world. We lived in New York in this bohemian lifestyle where an extended group of artists and photographers were like my aunts and uncles.
Mom worked with autistic children.
I was more of the kind of babysitter that liked holding the baby, sort of playing Mom, and then putting the baby to bed and watching TV while eating everything in their kitchen.
My mom is the backbone not just of my family but of many families.
I once went on the most grueling radio tour. Living in hotel rooms, sleeping in the backs of rental cars as my mom drove to three different cities in one day.
At home, Mom served us turkey breakfast links that she got at the health-food store. But whenever we went out for breakfast, she let my brothers and me order pork sausages (though, inexplicably, not bacon).
I basically became a cheerleader because I had a very strict mom. That was my way of being a bad girl.
My mom had put her house up to bail me out of jail!
I was embarrassed that I even wanted to become an actress because coming from L.A., with two older sisters in the business and a mom who had been a ballet dancer, it was such a cliche.
I really wanted to make it as a ballet dancer to make my mom proud. But it didn't happen.
My mom was sort of involved in amateur dramatics like Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, and played the violin. My dad played banjo and piano and sang as well, so there was all this music in my childhood.
My jewelry's all fake - from Claire's. Or I get it from my mom's boutique in Barbados.
I had a lot of Barbies growing up, and a lot of porcelain dolls, but I was scared of them. I was so scared of them, I would try to turn their head away and would make my mom take them out of my room.
I always tell my mom that if she would have just bought me a Barbie when I was little, I would have gone into real estate.
Growing up, my ideals were Barbra Streisand, Cher, and my mom.
Since I was five years old, when my mom was still alive, she would just call me. And we would listen to the radio with Barbra Streisand and Karen Carpenter, and she would ask me to sing with her.
When I was a teenager, my mom got me a really nice baritone ukulele.
Mommy smoked but she didn't want us to. She saw smoke coming out of the barn one time, so we got whipped.
My mother gets all mad at me if I stay in a hotel. I'm 31-years-old, and I don't want to sleep on a sleeping bag down in the basement. It's humiliating.