I love Westerns and I remember as a kid climbing up on the couch and make it into a saddle and shoot guns and fall off. I would lay there after my death and my mom would tell me to eat lunch and I'd say, 'I'm still dead, Mom!' I was Method, even then.

When I was a child it was very clear what I was allowed to see and what I was not allowed to see and there was no discussion or option or negotiation. Whatever my mom said, that's what went down.

My mom put me in dance classes when I was 5 years old.

When I see my mom in the stands, it always pushes me to succeed.

I think it would be a lot easier if I said, 'I feel like a dude,' but I was raised by a southern mom, so I know how to put on lipstick and walk in heels and rock that look. It's exactly that juxtaposition that confuses people.

My mom and dad are both in stand-up comedy, so that's where I started, that's where I got everything. My roots are holding the mic.

My mom is two people to me. She's my mom number one, and then she's this lady most comedians know as being a legendary owner of a nightclub that's responsible for starting a lot of heavy careers.

When I was six years old my friend was auditioning for 'Annie,' and I decided I wanted to audition with her. My mom was worried I would fall flat on my face because I'd never opened my mouth to sing, so she sent me to vocal lessons. I did the audition and fell in love with the entire process of a show.

I think of myself as a fairly attractive girl and always have, thanks to my mom. I was brought into this world thinking I was gorgeous because my mother was extremely devoted to this notion.

I remember my mom had a big collection of copies of Saturday Evening Post magazines, and that was really my introduction to those great illustrators.