Deb: I heard you recently suffered from sinus congestion. How are you feeling now?
Deb: I’m great. Really great. I think it was the change in the weather. I thought my head was imploding. But I’m feeling much better now, thank you.

Deb: And your recent move to New York City? Has it been everything you dreamed it would be?
Deb: Well, frankly, I’m still unemployed, so I don’t go out much; I don’t want to spend much money. And after all, I am living in Queens. But the city’s as beautiful and excited as I’d dreamed it would be.

Deb: Could you talk a little about the attack on the World Trade Center?
Deb: I guess. Though I can’t imagine I’d have anything new to say. It was horrible. My boyfriend and I were incredibly shaken up. I cried all week long. Just couldn’t stop crying. It made me feel so vulnerable. But I didn’t personally know anyone who was hurt, anyone who died.

Deb: You said the attack made you feel vulnerable. Were there any other strong feelings?
Deb:Yes. Guilt. Terrible guilt. Guilt for still being alive when so many died. That I hadn’t lost anyone, when so many had.

Deb: How are you coping?
Deb: Well, I’m no stranger to guilt. It’s one of my more primal emotions. But usually, I feel better if I pace the apartment in my houseclothes and curse our incompetent president for the poor choices he’s made before and after the attack.

Deb: Speaking of your apartment, I’d just like to say you’ve done a nice job decorating the place.
Deb: Well, thank you.

Deb: But it’s a bit messy. Your not working; why can’t you clean more?
Deb: I’ve been too depressed to clean.

Deb: How has your unconventional style changed since moving to New York?
Deb: Not too much yet. Again, I have no money, so I haven’t been able to go out and purchase a razzle-dazzle New York wardrobe.

Deb: Does this bother you?
Deb: Sure. What had been cool in DC just makes me feel shleppy here. And there just aren’t enough choice old people to swipe clothes from, like there had been in South Florida.

Deb: Your style is still quite unconventional. In a good way. Tell me, did you always know you were different?
Deb: Of course.

Deb: You say that so casually. Did you always know you’d be someone famous?
Deb: Oh, yeah. Definitely. But I wasn’t always sure which vehicle would bring me to stardom. When MTV first came on the air, I was, what, 5 or 6. But I was already interviewing myself in the mirror. I thought I might be a rock star. But I thought I’d have a cockney accent, for some reason. Years later, I thought I could be a great actor.

Deb: How did you finally dismiss those career paths.
Deb: Because I was terrible at both. I couldn’t carry a tune to save my life. And I could only get walk-on parts in community theatre productions. Very disheartening.

Deb: And writing?
Deb: I was good at it. People said nice things to me when I wrote. And I could make people laugh, sometimes. Then they’d want to sit near me at lunch and pretend to be my friend. It’s how I finally became popular, I think. People laughed when I sang and acted, but not the kind of laughter that wins you any friends.