Whenever I want a good, hearty laugh, I pull out my very first diary — and I laugh at myself.

I started writing in the pink-, yellow- and blue-striped diary with a redhead buxom cheerleader on the cover when I was 8 years old. I called my diary Sue. I have no idea where the name came from — but I was loyal to her and told her my feelings. And she did her best to keep my secrets — Sue had a lock and a little key.