Like Erin Brockovich, but with more clothing.

In case you wondered.

9: number of years I'd been alive when I produced my first magazine; it was called Superkid! and featured completely fictional interviews with celebrities like Ricky Schroder and Christopher Reeve, as well as a fashion feature (in marker) on the return of miniskirts and the gorgeousness of cuffed suede booties

1: number of times I have portrayed a circa-1750s, pregnant good-time girl onstage

1: number of issues of Superkid! that was published, as hand-drawn magazines are a real pain to reproduce

2: number of people in the audience one night when the theater company I started with friends was doing a run of The Acting Lesson--and one of the two people was my mom

1: number of times I have told a massage client that he had 30 seconds to get dressed and get out, and to try the back of the LA WEEKLY for the type of massage he evidently wanted

2: number of fistfights I got into with boys on my tenth birthday

2: number of fistfights I got into with boys on my tenth birthday which I lost

1: number of older brothers named Bob I made up in the third grade

5: number of men named Bob who have been influential in my life (long after the third grade)

3: number of instruments I play/have played

7: number of names I currently answer to (Mexican families are nothing if not inventive with the sheer volume of nicknames they heap on a person; not to mention the whole changing-my-legal-name thingie)