Amy Writes

Twenty years ago, I was a middle-schooler sneaking episodes of 21 Jumpstreet. A look at the walls of my bedroom would write the story I planned to live: I would complete astronaut training. Between missions, I would grace Broadway stages in New York or visit the set of my husband's current film. My husband Johnny Depp, that is. Now the walls of my rooms tell a very different story - one of food-covered grins, tiny, sandy toes and sun-kissed pigtails. I watch shuttle launches from my backyard and catch Broadway tours from Left Orchestra. My husband, Not Johnny Depp, and I are watching an episode of 21 Jumpstreet right now. Seriously. We bought it at Wal-Mart for $5. One day, a few years ago, I realized I was living every girl's dream. I'd had some fun jobs. I had a wonderful husband, two healthy, beautiful children, a house with a backyard...and a full helping of boredom. The dream I was living was not mine. In fact, I had stopped dreaming altogether. My life - my story - w...

I would like to report that Donald Miller and I are BFFs and that he invited us to climb Mt. Hood with him this summer. Or maybe that part happened after I finally got to go to bed on Tuesday night. I do think we could be BFFs, though. If I ever could think of something coherent to say to him. After partaking in Taco Tuesday at Tijuana Flats, a small group (eight) of us climbed the stairs to Rocketown about 15 minutes before "show time," to find another small group of people waiting in line. Turns out, that small group and our small group made up about half of the audience. I felt like the show had been underpromoted, but the "crowd" of 50 was surprising. I felt a little embarrassed for South Florida, and a little sad, and a little awkward for Don because speaking in front of an uncomfortably small audience is, well, uncomfortable. But it made it really easy to get a front row seat. I wasn't really after a front row seat, but that's where we ended up. The fr...

We're going to see Don Miller tonight. I'm pretty excited about that. I'm looking forward to putting a face and a voice to the words that have spoken so clearly to me over the last few years. I'm thinking about the prospect of meeting him, probably having him autograph something (else) for us, and my stomach actually fills with butterflies at the thought of my one chance to say something grateful and not ridiculous. He's kind of a hero of mine, and I don't want to have an "I carried a watermelon" moment. You may know that I've built up a pretty good immunity to celebrities - there are a scant few that would get a second look from me, and even fewer that would get the butterflies flapping. To discover this morning that Don was one of them was a little surprising. I'm also looking forward to going to Rocketown for the first time. But mostly, I'm looking forward to going back to bed when we get home. I think I'm writing today because I...