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People were always trying to link me to whatever guy I happened to be hanging out with on any given day, and that annoyed me.

People jumped on the quote, tripping over each other to get to it, as if what I had tossed out flippantly was something really important or scandalous.

Music was the one way I could communicate, and one way to open more ears to my music was through the press.

Of course the press was a big, complicated truth-and personality-distorting monster, but I hadn’t learned that yet.

By the time Seven Mary Three exploded onto the charts with “Cumbersome,” Mammoth had aligned with Atlantic Records and was much better equipped to break a band in a big way.

I did sell 60,000 copies of , which was considered very respectable for an emerging artist on an independent label.

Almost every subsequent article written about me referenced the quote.

I couldn’t shake it; my recorded words were like an incurable disease.

The fact of my admitted advanced-age virginity was restated and reprinted all over the place, again and again, reverberating for months and months and even years afterward, whenever anyone mentioned me or my music.