I had a terrible dream when I was pregnant I dreamt the baby had a ventriloquial mouth, but there was no hand hole I had to flick the mouth down to get words out.

I looked into studying psychoanalysis, wrote to the governing body and was about to start the year where they psychoanalyse you, four times a week, before you get to do it yourself. I just thought I'd taken the ventriloquism as far as I could. My act is so deconstructive, and I'd made all the monkey jokes anyone wanted to hear.

I make napkins talk in restaurants, socks talk on car journeys. There is an awful lot of puppetry going on in the house.

I like my squishy, red, high-heeled Vivienne Westwood jelly shoes. They make you seem like you're much more of a go-er.

I was really awful at auditions. There's something about sitting down and saying into the camera: I'm Nina and this is the name of my agent. That makes me just die inside.

I think acting is overrated. I'm not sure I enjoyed it. You never get to write your own roles. It's wonderful for some people, but I found it nerve-wracking. I was too busy worrying that no one would give me their words to speak.

If I have a gig in the evening, I get 'the doom' at about 5 P.M., when I think I'm getting flu.

I thought people would think I only wanted to be an actor because my dad was, rather than because I had an innate calling.

I feel Scottish when with English people, and when I'm with Scottish people, I realise I'm English.

My dad is a much more flamboyant character than I am. I think that's why I couldn't see myself going into straight acting. I always just felt daft.