After the first miscarriage, I tried to take the attitude that it was my body's way of telling me that this pregnancy wasn't meant to be.

Four months is a lot of living with that little life in you-thinking about it, eating right for it, nurturing it and all of a sudden, it dies.

I just found out that I'm one inch taller than I thought.

I must've got whacked on the head. He presented a totally false person for me to fall in love with.

I wish my butt did not go sideways, but I guess I have to face that.

Just because people can express themselves through their art doesn't mean they are great communicators in person.

Life is short. Ricky and I realize how lucky we were. We want to be together all the time.

Basically he never went to work and didn't have a job. Of course I thought he did. I thought he was on the phone doing business deals instead of borrowing money from people.

I don't count that relationship with Ricky. It's just like a blip at this point. I had to fall in love with the devil himself to get this sweet angel, Jack.

I have this helicopter crash, and I fall in love with this man who was in the crash with me. I must have been suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.

We decided to try in vitro, because both Peter and I felt we couldn't handle another failure. When I miscarried after that, we had to come to terms with the possibility that this wasn't meant to be.