Since I've been home from tour I've been reading books about Elvis and road tripping to Indiana, in fact, I've been to Indiana three times in the last three weekends WTF. I also walked from my apartment up the hill to Devou Park and found a lake with a wooded perimeter. I can walk to this lake from my couch and I didn't know it existed all last year.
I have also been buying things: a monkey statue, a monkey lamp, a tempurpedic bed and a car. All you need to know for now besides that I like monkeys and that I want to be on the cover of the tempurpedic bed catalog next year is that I'm shitting my pants that I'm suddenly a car person. I've never bought a car before and for 34 years rooted myself firmly on the side of bicycles, public transport, borrowing, begging, and stealing. Goodbye identity! You own a Honda Fit and you think it's cute as hell. Moreover, it's suddenly so easy to get from point A to point B.
And you know what else I've never done before? Gotten married. Shortly after Matthew and I got engaged last year, I forbade everyone around me to talk about it. I put a timeout on wedding chatter because I was far too busy planning the American Idol tour to plan a wedding, too. Once we found the place to have it, at Oneonta in Melbourne, KY, a place that made me laugh what with its brothel, tree house, and general store, I asked everyone to cut it out, knock it off, and only speak about it quietly behind my back. They complied.
Now I'm home, American Idol is a sweet memory, and I'm feeling bridal. Well. I mean, I will still kill myself if I start acting like seat covers matter and I have said out loud, "COLORS? Please. Motherfuckers can wear neon green up there for all I care," but I did find a chick in Seattle, a custom dressmaker, who I'm in the process of befriending and drooling all over her website.
Coming soon: I answer important and relevant questions like why have I been to Indiana so much lately, why is our culture obsessed with bacon, and how did James Dean get so hot?