During my One Life to Live days, my home was in LA, but the show was filmed in New York. For a while, I commuted back and forth every few days. (Yes, it was a little crazy, but you can get used to pretty much anything.)

At first, I stayed with friends in New York, but as my character, psycho nurse Barbara, got more screen time, I knew I needed my own place. Just a small one, somewhere to sleep, eat, and drop by bag. A friend knew of a one-bedroom sublet, with rent so cheap that I had to ask him to repeat it. It was on the Upper West Side, just two blocks from the One Life to Live set. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Then I saw the place. It was on the ground floor, and the few windows it had were literally one foot away from a brick wall. You couldn’t even see if it was sunny or raining out. It was tiny, cramped, and as dark as a cave. But the price and location were right, so reluctantly, I took it.

I’ll just get some candles, and put up some...

Back when my kids were in preschool – we were always late for preschool – we used to walk (well, run) the same way every day.

One morning, I was more stressed than usual. My head was down, my brow furrowed. I’m sure it looked like I was pushing a Mack truck instead of a small child. I was just dreading the day ahead of me, when I heard, “Have a great day!”

I turned, looking for who that was for. Then I saw the doorman from building 222, and he was talking to me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Every day when we walked by, he’d call out to us, “Hello! Have a great day.” But when I saw that his “hello” was meant for me, something inside me softened. 

On the rest of the walk, I questioned myself. Why was I carrying this heavy weight around? What if I could have a great day? How can I make that happen? By the time we got to school, my energy had done a...

For 25 years now, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro has been on my bucket list. And finally, a couple weeks ago, I did it.

And along the way, with my two sisters, our guide Robert, assistant guide, cook, and twelve porters from Kandoo Adventures (yes, 12), I learned a thing or two about what it takes to climb Kilimanjaro.

Here they are:

1. Go slow. “Polepole” – that means “slow” in Swahili, and that was our rallying cry. And we meant it. We might’ve been the slowest hikers there, being passed left and right, but I didn’t care. I’m told that slower you go, the better your chance of success, because you have more time to acclimate to the altitude.

Slow, small steps will get you to the top. (The tortoise and the hair, right?) As long as you’re moving forward, you’ll get where you’re going.

And after the first few bathroom stops, where Karin and Isabel and I would stand around chatting, our guide said, “You need to...

Back when I was on One Life to Live, I flew back and forth from NY to LA every week. (I know, it was a little insane.) I flew so often that I didn’t even tell my family and friends I was traveling. But one time, when I was coming into New York on the red eye, I learned a valuable lesson about complacency.

It started off fine. I was psyched because I had three seats, so I was all spread out, ready to cozy up and actually get some sleep. About three hours in, though, the plane began to shake. I jerked awake, and out the window I could see these flashing lights. Sirens blared and then stopped, but the silence was ominous. Everybody was looking around, wide-eyed, gripping their armrests or their rosaries or their lovers’ hands.

“Oh my god, the plane’s on fire,” cried someone from across the aisle. Some people started crying; most just looked around terrified, helpless, while the plane jolted along, one of its wings on fire.

After an eternity, a...

The other day, my kids and I were looking through old Halloween costumes, trying to find some inspiration for this year. We tried on old dresses, old hats, old masks. And it reminded me of a time when I put on a mask, and learned something about who I was.

In grade school, I was always the good girl. I got straight A’s, I was involved in different clubs, I never spoke out of turn. Teachers always put the “trouble” kids next to me, because I was so quiet and rule-abiding, in the hopes that they would adapt to me (not the other way around).

In eighth grade, as Halloween approached, I came up with a pretty crazy (for me) idea: I was going to be a biker chick. You know, a bad girl.

I borrowed clothes from friends. Spandex, leather jacket, high heels, flashy make-up (a friend came over early that day to apply it, since I had no idea how). And I’ll never forget that moment, Halloween morning, when I walked in. Like in slow-motion, everyone turned, their mouths...

For years, I’ve wanted to climb Kilimanjaro.

I love hiking. I grew up doing it with my mom and sisters. Isabel and I climbed Mount Whitney, which is the highest peak in the continental US, and my mom and I climbed Mount Washington, which is the highest on the eastern seaboard. She and I also climbed the two highest mountains in Norway. Basically, if there’s a peak, I want to climb it.

But I’ve never done any of the really big ones. So this year, for my birthday, I decided to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Stephen said I could go, as long as he didn’t have to. So I rallied my sisters, one of whom has always wanted to do it, and one of whom is reluctant (although optimistic – she was the first person to buy boots and a backpack).

As I began preparing, reading books, studying the trails – we’re going to do the longest one – I started to get scared. I was learning that the trail isn’t what gets people, but the altitude. I started...

I am struggling to rally some excitement around fall.

I know, that’s blasphemous. Pumpkin spice! Sweater weather! Autumn leaves! It’s such a gorgeous time, especially in New York City, and it’s so many people’s favorite time of year. But I gotta be honest – I always feel a little sad when summer’s ending.

It’s because summer is so free. We don’t go to bed on time; we sleep late. We still work, but the schedule is a free-for-all. I love warm East Coast nights, late-night walks in the park, t shirts and shorts. We take trips, we spend time together laughing and moving and just enjoying each other. Summer represents fun, easy, freedom.

Every year around now, I look ahead to fall, and I see the return to routine, strict schedules, fights around bedtime, trying not to be late. It feels rigid, stressful, like the antithesis of freedom.

But of course, I have a choice about what perspective to take. So I’ve made a conscious effort to...