How does a nice Catholic girl end up going to prison for a year? It's crazy. I've made mistakes. I have to pay for those mistakes.

I like to choreograph and create and design the costumes and do it all and then step back and watch it and then move on to the next project.

So many people think of me as a character on TV, but first and foremost, my passion is teaching dance and creating employable, working dancers.

As far as the general public is concerned, I always tell people that you need to look like a dance teacher like you're looking for a pediatrician.

I always thought I would die of cancer because my mom and my dad both died of cancer. My dad died of osteocancer, and my mom died of colon cancer.

For the general public or psychos on Facebook, for everyone who's made one negative comment about me, I've probably gotten 250-300 positive comments.

If you have the ability to pick yourself up by the bootstraps and start over, you come out stronger because you learn from whatever mistakes you made.

You don't need a lot of credentials to be prison guard in a federal prison. And, you know, you give them a set of keys and a weapon, and they're in power.

Do your job. Do it the best you can. Do it right, because somebody, sometimes your best friend, is waiting for you to screw up so she can take your place.

Dancers are always striving for perfection. A great dancer never achieves it: you always want to do another turn, a higher jump,a more difficult acrobatic jump.

When you walk into my classroom, I'm going to give it to you straight, just like in the real world, because that's the only way to prepare you for the real world.

I can take a beginner kid that has never danced in their lives, and I can teach them something, or I can take a really advanced dancer, and I can make them into a professional.

I had a PET scan, and it was cleared. Not one cell of cancer after three rounds of chemo. But I still had seven more just for safety, which was stupid. I should have just worked on therapy.

I have spent the greater part of my life in a hotel room with seven or eight kids, looking after everyone, sorting out fights, wiping noses, handing out towels, not having a clean towel left for me.

If you want someone to say, 'She's so sweet, and she's so cute, and, honey, point your foot,' that's not my school. You can go to the YMCA and have a nobody teach your kid if that's what you want to hear.

It takes me about two hours to run into Target. People always want a picture. They hem and haw, and they can't spit the words out, so they waste about five minutes of my time just standing there getting ready for a picture. Just do it!

I think any activity you have your kids in, you're all trying to live vicariously through them. And you're jealous of the kid that's naturally more talented or has the facility, the body, the genes, or the God-given talent. People get jealous of that.

I make decisions all day, so it's nice for a woman like me to go to dinner and have the man take the menu and say, 'Let me order.' Other women would be offended by that, but I'm like, 'Good. Because I can't make one more decision today.' I want someone to rub my feet without being asked.

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