Have you ever been to Florida? It's a criminal population. It's America's Australia.

Florida is all humidity, sun-baked palm trees, six-second showers and heat that smothers around you like a thick, heavy blanket.

It's big bombastic thunderstorms that rattle the windowpanes and cause car alarms to blare. It's rain so heavy, you can't see five feet in front of your face. It's the nostalgia and familiarity of Jason Davis and the Elevator From Hell. It's driving 20 mph on 95 due to the weather, singing along to non-offensive pop rock from the 90s and Steve Miller's Rockin' Me over and over and over again.

It's trying to surprise your mom but failing (thanks for keeping the secret, asshole) and walking into her work shouting, "Hey lady! How much for a shirt?" It's remembering just how tiny your Mom is. It's giving your dad a big hug and surprising yourself by getting teary-eyed over how much you missed the guy.



It's the world sweetest, smartest dogs -- Phoebedog's noises, Maya's wagging tail, Nala's big brown eyes, bellyrubs, stinky kisses and stealthy poops.



It's hugs-hugs-hugs-hugs, new jokes with old friends, apologizing for apologizing for calling one of your best friends a bitch while playing video games, dirty words on the board at Lush Manor, margaritas, Sparkletinis, berry vodka with soda while watching your memories flicker on screen and listening to the craziest, dirty-dirtiest hip hop.



It's homemade Indian food and the constant pestering to eat more, gossiping until midnight, the omnipresent prattle of the Indian satellite channel and watching Mom go gangbusters on bugs with her broom. It's the world's most comfortable couches, the head-nodding lullaby of the fan and raindrops hitting the big window, discovering ancient Judy Blume books in your old bedroom and laughing hysterically at Just As Long As We're Together and Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret.



It's Spanglish on the radio, reggaeton blaring from souped-up Hondas, the excitement of discovering Jarritos in plastic bottles, it's talking about the space-time continuum from Lost and the grandfather paradox at the kitchen table and seeing condoms and pregnancy tests next to one another in the clearance aisle.



It's home. It's family. It's your heart. It's never wanting to leave but knowing you can always come back.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY D!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANA!

Meet Dana.
She's one of the best friends this girl could ever have.
She's hilarious ("It looks like the weight I lost in my ass went to her face!" Hands down, the best D-ism ever).
She's got great taste in pretty much everything.
She's sweet, creative, smart, thoughtful, gorgeous and about a thousand other complimentary adjectives.s
She understands the importance of good food, music, movies, books and friends.

For the most part, I find girls to be lousy friends. They're catty, dramatic and ridiculous. D completely changed that and I am so lucky to have her in my life.

Have a fabulous birthday, darling! Here's to hoping you get everything you could ever wish for and that this will be your best year yet.

Love you! xx

Happy Biffle...I mean, Birthday!

Meet my best friend, Jerry. I think I've called him 'Jerry' a total of five times in my life. To me, he The Best Friend. Or, more obnoxiously -- Biffle (BFFL -- Best Friend For Life).

He introduced me to the glory (and crushing agony) that is Miami Dolphins football. He also introduced me to video games and the fine art of talking shit ("Knock knock?" "Who's there?" "Your mother's a whore."). He usually smells good and when he doesn't shave for five days straight -- he looks like a hobo. He listens to the world's most misogynistic hip-hop....and treats ladies better than anyone I've ever met. When it comes to holding open doors, he comes up aces every time. He's a great listener -- whether I'm having an emotional breakdown or excitedly jabbering about the fact that I saw a chipmunk, he listens to every last word. (Ladies, he's also single, so if you're in the market for a sweet Southern guy who'll call you 'sweetpea' and 'darlin', get in touch!)

You know how people make time capsules and bury all this stuff as representative of a certain era? Well, if there was a time capsule representative of the first ten years of the new millennium, I’d put him in it.

Hmmm...I find myself working with an awkward 'buried alive' motif. Not really what I was going for. Let me elucidate.

I’d put him in it because even though things are terrible now – war, economy spiraling down the toilet, cost of gasoline and food, famine, the environmental strain, Tila Tequila – The Best Friend represents the fact that despite it all, there is still an immense amount of good in this world.

He is the best friend I’ve ever had. Hell, he might even be the best person I know (he's tied for this honor with my sister. Solely because she introduced me to the term ‘mouthdump.’).

I could create a laundry list of all the reasons I adore and respect him but instead I’m just going to say that he's the best. Best friend. Best brother. Best influence. Best listener. Best guy.

I am so stupidly lucky to know him and be even a blip on your radar, much less his best friend.

So to my best friend, my biffle -- Have a wonderful birthday. I might not be with you, but I’m thinking about you and sending you all the good wishes in the universe.

Love you! Miss you! Happy Biffle!

Dirty South comes to Philthadelphia

Man, I miss these guys.

Congratulations Jake and Steph!!

Jake and Steph
April 19th, 2008

May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies and quick to make friends. And may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.

I can't think of two people more made for one another. Love you both. Congratulations!

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

One of the reasons I love these guys so much is that whenever the question, "Are you hungry?" is posed -- the answer is always, "I could eat."

I love people who love food. People who make semi-orgasmic noises when falling all over a big sandwich. People who lick their fingers with shameless abandon when they're eating ribs or chicken or anything remotely messy. People who are well acquainted with condiments and fiercely defend their love of Frank's Red Hot or Sriracha. People who understand that dinner can last three hours easily.

That being said -- any recommendations where this girl can go to dinner on her birthday?

Two rules:

A) Must be within a 15 mile radius of West Chester, PA
B) Must have a full bar or failing that, a kickass margarita selection.

I mean, I'm going to be 25. If that doesn't justify at least one good, stiff drink, I don't know what does.