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I came into the world on December 9, 1969, in a little town called Barnstaple, Devon, England. My parents had met in Bangkok, lived in Japan for a while, then moved to England (which is where I came in). When I was nine months old, we moved to the United States, where I've lived ever since.

My parents divorced when I was very young, and both remarried. I grew up in Virginia Beach, Virginia, with my mom and stepdad. Virginia Beach had little to recommend it, as far as I was concerned, except for the Chesapeake Bay, the beaches, and the fact that my grandparents also lived there.

For three years, we lived in North Little Rock, Arkansas. I attended a tiny Montessori school for 5th and 6th grade, which is the only thing I remember fondly about those years. I missed the ocean, my friends and my grandparents.

From the age of 6 until I was14, I spent my summers with my dad and stepmother in New York City. Some of my happiest childhood memories involve going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I developed an early fascination with ancient Egypt and took my first art classes. I also loved Central Park, and going to the ballet. Virginia Beach seemed quite dull by comparison.

In eighth grade I started school at Norfolk Academy, which I attended for five years until graduation. From an academic standpoint, it was an excellent school, and I got a great education. But I never felt like I belonged there, and loathed most of my classmates. The few good friends I made at Academy felt the same way.

My first week at Academy, for reasons that have always been a mystery to me, I tried out for the school play. For the next two years, the drama department was my refuge. Most of my friends were fellow drama geeks, and upperclassmen. Besides acting in several plays, I also worked backstage doing props, costumes or makeup, hanging lights or painting sets. My favorite class was Latin, taught by Stephanie Pope.

In high school, I was less involved in theater, but I was on the dance team, worked on the literary magazine, and was Arts Editor of the school newspaper. My favorite teacher was Mr. Oberdorfer, who taught Modern European History and was the faculty advisor for the Science Fiction Club. He was the biggest Trekkie I've ever known, and was indirectly responsible for my introduction to the wacky world of sci-fi fandom and conventions.

The summer before my senior year, I attended the Governor's School for the Arts at Radford University, where I took classes in drawing, oil painting, watercolor and sculpture. It was the best four weeks of my life up to that point, and the first time I didn't feel like a total misfit among my peers. I went into my senior year with a newfound self-confidence, and couldn't wait to go to college.

Arriving at Yale at 17, I felt like my life was finally starting. The freedom, the aura of privilege, and the sense of possibility were all intoxicating. I took a random assortment of classes my freshman year, overwhelmed with options, and spent most of my time going to parties and hanging out with friends.

Freshman year, I also started dating Hugh Jones, and we continued the relationship in one fashion or another for nearly eight years. By sophomore year, my circle of friends had shrunk dramatically, and I was more focused on both my studies and my boyfriend.

I had a hell of a time choosing a major. I finally settled on History after taking a class on the Middle Ages with John Boswell. He was by far the best professor I ever had, and instilled in me a fascination with the period that I still carry with me.

I was Graphics Editor of the Yale Daily News my junior year, which was probably my only notable contribution to campus life. I also spent a lot of time working in the dining hall. I didn't care much for my college (Calhoun), which was small and cliqueish, although very pretty.

I graduated in May 1991, completely without a clue as to what to do with the rest of my life. That's a picture of me at Commencement with Julie Kimmel (left) and Nancy Nearing Go (right).

In September 1991 (after returning from a month in Russia), I drove cross-country with my best friend Beth. We had decided to seek our respective destinies in San Francisco. Having grown up on the east coast, we both had dreams of going west, and neither of us had anything better to do. We had no idea what we'd do once we got to California. I'd never even been there before, didn't know anyone, and didn't have so much as a job interview lined up.

Unfortunately, the economy was in a recession at the time, and the Bay Area was full of recent college grads looking for work. I wanted to work in the arts or in graphic design but couldn't even get an interview. Eventually, through a temp assignment, I got an administrative job with a non-profit organization serving the Asian American community. It was far from ideal, but it was a paycheck, and I had the satisfaction of knowing I hadn't sold out (which was still important to me!)

Despite my complete lack of professional success, I loved San Francisco. It was still relatively affordable, and had that laid-back, bohemian, artsy, international vibe. I felt like I belonged somewhere for maybe the first time in my life, even though I was far from "home" and everything that was familiar. For once, my being Asian, or mixed, was no big deal--it seemed like everyone in San Francisco looked like me.

Most importantly, I had a wonderful group of friends. We were all just out of college and new to San Francisco, and everywhere we went, we saw other twenty-somethings just like ourselves. We didn't yet know what we wanted out of life, but for now, we were living in a great cosmopolitan city, having the time of our lives. In those days, it was OK to be young, clueless and poor--the dot-com revolution hadn't yet made losers out of everyone without a stock portfolio.

Eventually, like just about everyone else I know, I ended up in grad school. I was sorry to leave San Francisco, but it seemed my destiny lay elsewhere, and it was off to the University of Michigan in the fall of 1993. I had decided to pursue both a Ph.D. in medieval art history and a certificate in museum studies, with the goal of becoming a curator.

Arriving on campus, I found that I was the only person admitted that year who didn't already have a master's degree, and who hadn't majored in art history. I was completely intimidated by everyone else, and felt completely out of my depth. That first year in Ann Arbor was pretty lonely. Things improved dramatically my second year, when I gained a roommate, Kathy Camp, a friend from Yale who was starting her Ph.D. in history. My college boyfriend also moved to Cleveland, 3 hours away.

Although I never felt comfortable in the art history department, I loved spending time at the University of Michigan Museum of Art, where I took my Museum Practice classes and worked part-time. I did research, wrote wall labels and brochures, and helped install artwork in the galleries. As part of my program, I curated an exhibition of medieval manuscript leaves in 1995.

Ann Arbor does have a few things going for it, despite being located in Michigan. It has lots of great movie theaters, bookstores and coffeeshops, and is home to the best deli, bakery and gourmet store in the world: Zingerman's. The Ark is a great place to hear live music, and is where I discovered Dar Williams and Tempest. Nevertheless, after two years there, I was ready for a break.

From fall 1995 to spring 1996 I had the incredible good fortune to be a Getty graduate intern. I worked in the Manuscripts Department of the J. Paul Getty Museum, in Malibu, California. The Villa, as the museum was called, must be one of the most beautiful places in this country, if not the world.

There were a lot of us interns that year, over 20 in all, in the various programs and entities run by the Getty Trust. We really enjoyed each other's company and did a lot of things together. Between all the Getty parties, the constant stream of free tickets to the symphony, theater and movie screenings, and various intern gatherings, there was always something going on.

The staff of the Manuscripts Department were all wonderful to work with and very nice people. I did two exhibitions while I was there: "Ten Centuries of French Illumination" and "Illuminating the Mind's Eye: Memory and Medieval Book Arts." (Here's a review of the latter.)

The other notable development in my life at this time was that I broke up with Hugh and started seeing Ian Jensen, whom I'd known back when we were both living in San Francisco. He was now in grad school at UCSC, so we spent the whole year driving back and forth between Santa Cruz and Santa Monica. Occasionally we'd head up to San Francisco to visit friends there.When my internship ended, Ian moved to Ann Arbor with me.

I arrived back in Ann Arbor in July 1996, eager to start my Ph.D... but the enthusiasm didn't last. During the year I'd been gone, many of my friends and colleagues had left Ann Arbor, and there were lots of new people in the art history department I didn't know. I missed California. But mostly, I wasn't enjoying my studies anymore.

I was a T.A. that fall semester, and finished my coursework in the spring. In August 1997, I took my prelims. But by that point I knew I couldn't go on. I'd actually been spending most of my time in the ceramics studio up at the art school, rather than in the art history library. I even did "The Artist's Way" with some friends, and it helped convince me that I was on the wrong path. That fall, I told my adviser, Betsy Sears, that I was leaving grad school and Ann Arbor.

In January, Ian and I moved back to San Francisco. Ian was from the Bay Area, and he had gotten a good job with Wells Fargo. I had always wanted to go back, and we both had lots of friends there. By coincidence, one of Ian's coworkers in Ann Arbor had also recently moved to San Francisco with his wife, who was working on her Ph.D. at the University of Michigan. Matt and Jessica soon became close friends, and within months Jessica had dropped out of her program too.

My first job in San Francisco was working at an interior design firm, Osburn Design. Eight months there convinced me that I did not want to be an interior designer! But interior design led to thoughts of set design, and I briefly got involved with a children's theater company in that capacity. I also interned with a local film festival, hoping to learn something about the world of film production.

In 1999 I started working as an editor for IDG.net, a web portal for a computer publisher. San Francisco was now the epicenter of the multimedia revolution, and I had a front-row seat to observe the mayhem. Although it was a good job, and I enjoyed my coworkers, it was still just a job. I was still trying to figure out what I would do next.

In fall of 1999 Ian and I broke up after four years together. Although I still loved the Bay Area, I decided to move to Los Angeles. I'd been entertaining fantasies of working in the movies for over a year, and San Francisco was getting too expensive.

So in December I packed up all my worldly belongings, including the two cats, bid good-bye to my adopted home and family of friends, and headed south. I got an apartment with my friend Sarah Jane, whom I'd met when I was at the Getty. It was a total dump, but it was cheap! Luckily, SJ likes cats, and I got her hooked on "Buffy" and "Angel."

In January I started taking a class at UCLA Extension in art direction for TV and film. By February I had an (unpaid) internship in the art department on a Warner Bros. feature ("Rock Star"). I couldn't believe my luck! It was such a thrill to go behind the scenes of a big Hollywood movie and meet the people who actually designed everything. I even got to see the sets and watch scenes being filmed!

That internship led to my first paying job in Hollywood, as the set decorating coordinator on "Evolution," a sci-fi comedy directed by Ivan Reitman and starring the adorable David Duchovny. (I've been an "X-Files" fan for many years.) From there I went on to do the same job on "The Time Machine," a remake of the classic movie based on the H.G. Wells book.

In June 2000, I met David Duncan, who had briefly worked as an illustrator on "Rock Star" before I started my internship. We dated for two years. Because of David, I got my scuba certification, and in July 2001 we went to Tahiti for a week. He's still my main scuba buddy!

In my thirties.

At the beginning of 2002, I had just started working on a movie called "Constantine" when the director quit over "creative differences." Luckily, a month later I had landed a job on "The Polar Express" working for Rick Carter, one of the top production designers in town. I spent 14 months on that movie, and got into the union (I.A.T.S.E. Local 871) as an art department coordinator. It was a great experience; I learned a lot.

In May of 2003, I went to Thailand for two weeks. In Bangkok, I got to spend time with my aunt and uncle, and the two cousins who had grown up since I saw them in 1980. I also took a group trip to the northern part of the country, where we trekked through the jungle, visited some hilltribe villages, and got to ride elephants! I had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to go back.

After David and I broke up, I was "homeless" for a while: I house-sat for a friend in Beverly Hills for a few months, and then sublet another friend's apartment in Hollywood. Eventually, I wound up in Silverlake, where I'm now sharing an apartment with a friend whom I met on Polar Express.

After another long stretch of unemployment, I just landed a job on a movie that's shooting in the Bahamas! So I'm off to the Caribbean for 5 months. Ever since I started working in Hollywood, I've been envious of friends who worked on Waterworld, Cast Away, and all the other movies that were shot in exotic locales. Now it's my turn!