I remember, when I was a kid, watching my mother jam herself into her girdle - a piece of equipment so rigid it could stand up on its own - and I remember her coming home from fancy parties and racing upstairs to extricate herself from its cruel iron grip.

In the course of transferring all my CDs to my iPod, I have found myself wandering the musical hallways of my past and reacquainting myself with music I haven't listened to in years.

I might have missed my calling as an editor. In the spring, the sight of my empty garden beds gives me the horticultural equivalent of writers' block: So much space! So many plants to choose among, and yet none of them seem quite right!

To my great surprise, Twitter is not housed in a silver pod that orbits Earth at supersonic speeds, vacuuming up and then dispersing digital bits of worldwide chitchat; it's in a big, bland office building in downtown San Francisco, near a bowling alley and an Old Navy.

I was brought up in a car family, my dad loved cars and I was taught the art of making an Austin 7 operate.

I'm experiencing a lot of new things in life - cars, houses, jewelry - and getting the family situated. I've been dealing with fake friends, though, like a lot of people trying to come around. There are pros and cons to this fame thing.

I just want to be at peace with myself, personally and professionally. I want to lead my life the way I want to without having to worry about what the other person may be thinking. Professionally again, I would like to be able to just do films that I want to without having to explain my reasons to my friends, family and fans.

I'm the non-executive chairman of nine or so major companies, and on the nine companies, it's a little trying because you jump from one industry to another, as the case might be. But one had the reasonable knowledge of those nine activities, and it's been an exciting job.