Hilarie Burton joins the cast as a series regular this season, starring as Sara Ellis, in USA Network's original series WHITE COLLAR, which airs Tuesdays at 9/8c on USA.

When do we start becoming "characters"? There's the whole nature vs. nurture argument. I suppose you could insist that one is born with an innate ability to see ghosts or predict the future or talk to woodland creatures. There are Lord knows how many reality shows about such matters. However, in my case, the credit lies solely with my parents Bill and Lisa. I'm a kooky lady, but I have a sneaking suspicion that had I been born to a less colorful, less creative couple, I'd be boring, folks. This summer they celebrate 30 years of marriage, and that's worth a toast. So please join me in raising a glass to...

Treehouses. Years ago, I was trying to get my Dad's attention as he was wrapped up in thought. When I finally got it, he said "Sorry. I was thinking about treehouses." That's become my go-to line whenever I'm off in the clouds. Because really, you know you're not alive anymore when you stop daydreaming about treehouses. (See: Truman Capote's The Grass Harp)

Old Movies. Growing up with a slew of siblings, going to rent movies was a pricey endeavor if you wanted to please everyone--so my mother brought the lot of us to the public library every couple of days to check out films. From that arsenal, she introduced me to the likes of Debbie Reynolds and Katherine Hepburn and Vivian Leigh as if they were long-lost aunts I could look to and learn how to be a solid woman. Every musical, every classic, every obscure black and white treasure...my mother gave them like gifts. (See: Tennessee William's Box Set)

The Unexplained. There has never been a time in my life when I have doubted the existence of UFOs, Bigfoot, ghosts, and goblins. My dad was never the guy to watch sports on TV. Rather, he found documentaries about aliens in ancient Egypt and the mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle. He sat in front of campfires and told us stories about Banshees and shadow people. There was a time when my brother wanted to be a cryptozoologist. How many eight-year-olds know what a cryptozoologist is??? I hope I am never boring enough to assume that humans have already discovered all of the world's secrets. My father would die if I lost that sense of humor. (See: Coral Castle, the Edward Leedskalnin story)

Swearing. My mother is a lady. She wears a vintage apron when she cooks. She writes thank you notes and has perfect handwriting. She taught all of my brothers to open doors and give their seats up for women, young and old. She gardens. She is ageless and lovely. But she is RUTHLESS, as only a fierce mother can be, and when provoked she can swear like a proper 19th-century fisherman. It gives her an edge, like a secret tattoo. I copy her. (See: Any Shirley Maclaine movie)

Church. I find it so sad when people look at church as a grim, only-if-I-have-to-go experience. The Burtons are by no means preachy folks or Bible thumpers, but church was a core part of our childhood. My dad would teach us math equations on the back of the program, or draw goofy pictures with that little pencil they have for signing the guestbook. And my mother always had a mom-purse of toys for us and knew all the words to the hymns the rest of us just kinda hummed along to. My family laughed in Church. Looked up cool quotes in the Bible. Took part in the holiday shows. It was always a happy experience. And through some kind of holy osmosis we actually picked up a thing or two from those services. I'm glad they taught me that joy so I can now pass it on to my family. There is nothing more heartwarming than rowdy kids in Church. (See: The Bible in Pictures for Little Eyes by Kenneth Taylor)

Mountains. The other church. Every weekend, the brood would pile into our tank of a Suburban and head for the hills. Mom packed a cooler full of orange soda and Fritos, and Dad would navigate us through the wonders of the Appalachian Mountains. We played in waterfalls and walked where Native Americans used to walk. We sang oldies in the car or listened to Garrison Keillor breathe heavy through his nose while talking about Lake Wobegon. I am still most at home in the woods where history and the unknown mingle in the trees. Never assume rustling leaves are the result of the wind. (See: Luray Caverns and Tweetsie Railroad)

America! I am a sucker for America. As a newborn, my parents brought me home from the hospital on the 4th of July. My first Halloween I was Private Benjamin. Dad was a Green Beret. Rambo. I cry when I watch Red Dawn. I used to sing the National Anthem at the opening ceremony for Little League every year in grade school. My boyfriend buys me fireworks like other guys buy their girlfriends flowers. Some of my proudest moments have been doing work with the USO. My folks have always instilled a love of country in us. Listening to NPR in the mornings during middle school with my mom. Going to historic battlefields with my Dad. As Lee Greenwood would say, "And I'm proud to be an American...." (See: One Second After by William Forstchen)

[Images: Wikimedia, Luray Caverns, Tweetsie Railroad]