Stories. Everyone has them. Love stories. Funny stories. Sad stories. Family stories. Old stories. New stories. Long stories. Short stories. And then there are the stories that aren’t quite finished yet. That’s where I am right about now. At 30,000 feet, I’m somewhere over Mississippi (which is the farthest west I’ve ever been by the way), and in about three and a half hours, I’ll be landing in Los Angeles, California, my home for the six weeks. Yeah, you heard me. Six weeks. You can imagine the nightmare it was for me to pack for this trip. But before I tell you why I’m going to LA this summer, I should probably back up to where my yet-to-be-finished story begins.