This is a photo of me, today, on my 47th birthday, holding my very first journal—written when I was 10 years old. My fifth grade teacher asked us to buy a notebook that inspired us and, every few days, she gave us a topic to write about.
A life is made of memories. When I was 20 years old, I traveled the world for two months with my best friend Kristin. It was a safer time then. Airport security was a breeze. Shoes stayed on. Everyone smiled. I had just acted in my first television show. My television was the only screen I owned.