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I remember driving to North Carolina when I was a little girl in a snowstorm to get down to my mom’s family in the Carolinas. There were chains on the car – it was the late sixties – and we were just singing in the car. Christmas carols.
The violence betwen women is unbelievable. Women try to make each other crawl so that their knees are bleeding.
My father has a pragmatic mind. He marched with Dr. King in the ’60s, and he’s very much for women’s rights.
There is a phenomenal amount of pressure on women in this industry: they are considered vintage by the time they hit their mid-30s.
There are older men with younger women but you don’t see a lot of older women with younger men. There are some women who have been able to do it but not often.
I don’t mind a dirty girl. But what I find tragic is when we, as women, become not the subject of our own story but someone else’s object.
In our minds, love and lust are really separated. It’s hard to find someone that can be kind and you can trust enough to leave your kids with, and isn’t afraid to throw her man up against the wall and lick him from head to toe.
You’d think that in this age, especially in the 21st century – especially with all the technology and all the discoveries that we’ve made – that we would figure out how to tackle abuse.
The fact that religion plays such a part in how people vote troubles me, troubles me as a minister’s daughter. Because I always felt that the separation of church and state was what our forefathers and foremothers really fought for.
I have a great relationship with my mother-in-law. We’re both Leos, we understand each other.