Chatty Kathy.

I like people that overshare the minute you meet them. Take, for example, my dentist hygenist today. In the first five minutes, I learned that...she dyed her hair to cover the gray, her husband was much younger, she drank while pregnant, and her sister had a shotgun wedding. And she cursed! Now that is a good teeth cleaning! I can't wait to go back in six months and get more juicy details. The only problem is that she was cleaning my teeth the whole time, so I couldn't give her the positive conversation affirmations that were so desperately needed. I just had to crinkle my eyes and go, "Arghhhyeahhmmhmm." But I think she knew what I meant.

Warm buttered music for my soul.

Whenever I'm having a rotten day and feeling like a pile of crusted poop, I listen to one band that soothes my troubled soul. This band is Bread. Their voices are like silky bearded hippies crooning soft melodies to my ears. I wish I could go on a picnic with Bread. We'd make daisy chains and bury our feet in the warm dirt and spit cherry pits at the cows in the field and wear Levi's bell bottoms and polyester floral shirts. Bread is best experienced on vinyl. Barefoot. With the sun shining in through your window and a glass of lemonade sweating on your table, you'll feel like a corny, middle-aged high school art teacher in no time.

This makes me uncomfortable.

Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt singing their hearts out.
You can cut the sexual tension with a knife.

You know you watch too much reality TV when...

You have a dream about Heidi and Spencer from MTV's The Hills. This is mortifying. This is disgusting. I wasn't even watching the show before I went to sleep. Something is wrong with society--and me. But I honestly don't know if I could live without my bad TV. I don't watch that much. Maybe one hour a day. It's like hot buttered caramel popcorn for my soul. But in the dream, Spencer (a foul excuse for a person) got furious while we were "lunching" and started to choke me. What does that mean, Freud?

Devendra Banhart needs to be punched.

Here is someone who has always annoyed me. First of all, I hate his voice. It's so affected. Secondly, I hate that he is from LA and is rocking the whole dirty hippie, massive beard, lots of silver jewelry hipster thing. Thirdly, he interviewed Lindsay Lohan in Interview magazine. Maybe it was the other way around. Doesn't matter. It shows you that his target market is girls like Lindsay. And I love Lindsay. But she is a sorority girl desperately seeking her hipster roots. Fourthly, (if that's a word) he is now dating Natalie Portman. That girl is almost as annoying as Ellen Page. So self-righteously puritanical. And finally, the whole "Hey, man, let's just sit around and make some music and come together" bullshit attitude is such a shtick. This guy really wants a trophy girlfriend and expensive condo and organic/fair trade/free range/bullshit facial moisturizer. And I ain't buyin' it!

Boiled peanuts.

Boiled peanuts are just really freakin' good. Once you've had them, you can't ever eat a raw peanut again. They're kind of mushy, super salty, and fun to squeeze out of their soggy shell. They're just excellent with a cold Coca Cola (preferably one without high-fructose corn syrup, which is impossible to find) or a light blonde beer. Boiled peanuts say hey, it's summertime. Kick back, sit on yo' back porch, and watch the fireflies come out. They also say, it's roadtrip time y'all!! Let's drive to the Mississippi River and jump in that polluted water and come home with leeches on us! I can't believe they don't sell them in Texas. It's atrocious. I could really go for some boiled peanut action right now.

Kathleen Turner.

"It's best to enjoy the company of men as playthings until you're about twenty-nine. Then you begin to get mature enough for serious relationships and children. That doesn't mean being irresponsible in your personal life or that you shouldn't be a responsible citizen before that time. But give yourself time to ripen."
--from Kathleen Turner's Send Yourself Roses

I couldn't have said it better myself. I like Kathleen Turner. She's ballsy, honest, and strong. I like Body Heat. I love Romancing the Stone. I even saw her nekkid in The Graduate when I was 16 in NY!

Lovin' it like McDonald's.

So, I know this show has been on awhile...but 30 Rock is funny is, well, funny. I totally did not even give it a chance when it started. But I was at work one day, bored, browsing the Netflix Instant Watch queue and thought, let's give this a try. And it's 21 minutes of pure addiction. It kinda reminds me of Sports Night, but with more potty humor. And Tina Fey is fabulous. And Alec Baldwin is at his douchiest. And Tracey Morgan is ruhtarted funny. A nice pick-me-up when you're eating take-out food and drinking Miller High Life.

Southern goodness.

I'm reading Paula Deen's memoir, It Ain't All About the Cookin', and oh my stars! The lady does reveal some juicy details. It's almost better than Mommie Dearest. I didn't think it was possible to love and admire Paula more, but I do. She is brutally honest, bawdy, sweet as sugar, and just delightful. I really want to marry her son Bobby so she will be my mother-in-law. Or just cater my Southern plantation-style wedding. I give her mad props for telling some hard truths, and enjoying life to the fullest. That includes butter, friends, and a whole lotta lovin'.

I love this woman.

She is one of my favoritest people in the world. I hope one day to see her perform. She's so classy and beautiful and genuine. The whole marriage with Marilyn Manson thing? We're going to forget about that. She is from Orange County, after all. Cut her some slack. I know we would be fabulous best friends. I would marry her if she'd let me. Oh, the Dita....
the link below is to a New York Times magazine interview:

The Dita!