It has to do - I think - with growing up in an apartment, with my aunt and my cousins right next door to me, with the door open, with neighbors walking in and out, with people yelling at each other all the time.

I was planning on my future as a homeless person. I had a really good spot picked out.

I had a job as a paralegal. I drove a cab.

Most people are completely unaware of their breath. They violate your space, they have no idea that they have halitosis.

I have a very musical family from my Scottish roots.

I used to watch those syndicated, black-and-white Country Music Television shows from the '60s with my dad. And all of those people that played on our television set, they just felt like family to me. And I believed in my heart, as a little kid, that I would be doing that someday and I would know all those people and we would be friends.

It's good to have a free space to laugh and cry and get angry about gender and sexuality. That's one of the things I am the most thankful for from my friends and my family. They've given me the place to freely have gender be a part of our discourse.

The time away from the family is the hardest part of the job. I have a little apartment in D.C., and I have to tell you, I'm happy when I get to go home to Georgia. My wife and I are also talking about whether we can afford the apartment or not. If not, I guess I'd sleep in my office like a lot of my colleagues do.