Punk Karen Elson, Prince Harry & HelloGiggles Goodness.

1. THIS HAPPENED.

2. THEN THIS HAPPENED.

3. And then THIS HAPPENED. 

It's all happening. 

XOXO,

B

Stage 5 Clingers, Ex-Gf's of Relationships Past and the Business.

Last night I went to hear one of my favorite bands, J Roddy Walston and the Business – think gritty rock with excellent bed head and hello, GREAT name. I love love love everything about them and sing their praises often,  so naturally I rounded up my girls to their show last night. Yes, on a school night. We arrived an hour late and the opening act in flannel via Third Man Records had just started yelling through the mic. Cool. We assumed position towards the back and within five minutes I had a young man in a Fender Guitar shirt and some sort of wooden necklace asking if he could buy me a drink. Yes, this always happens to me.

Fender: "You let me know when that's nothing but ice and we'll fix you right up okay, Pretty?"

Me: "I'm sorry, what?"

Fender: "I once saved a cat that was stuck in a tree." (pauses for laughter, I think) "I'm trying to make a joke."

Me: "Cats freak me out, but E for effort."

Fender: "Do your friends want to see my guns?" (assumes somewhat of a Hercules pose, pushing out his chest and showing his arm "muscle")

Me: "Wow, okay, this just got much weirder than I need for a Thursday."

Stage 5 Clinger was a persistent one and had no concept of social cues, I.e. He shook Kenna's hand and then told her it was sweaty (which is a fact but RUDE) and then proceeded to tell me he forgot my name (I never gave him my name, are you kidding?). So ten minutes or so later I did what every respectable girl does - "I have a boyfriend. Maybe you should go find another girl to chat up." He walked away and we laughed as we moved up closer to the stage in preparation for our main men. 

This is where the story gets good. 

About five feet from us stood THE ex-gf, the one who has despised me for the past 2.5 years and basically burns a hole through my skin with her eyes every time we find ourselves in the same concert venue. I've moved on, PRAISE!, and I am happy to report I have no clue about either of their situations. I do know she was there and he was not. 

Anyways, we tried to keep a respectable distance but somehow ended up one handsy couple away. Suddenly, the most beautiful thing happened just as J Roddy slightly humped the piano bench wailing "Pigs & Pearls." Stage 5 Clinger stands beside her, they strike up a very merry conversation, and hey, next thing you know they're dancing and carrying on like a couple of kids who just met on eHarmony! 

It was truly a win-win for us all. 

XOXO,

B 

Desperately Seeking Attention: Guys Who Love Checking In, Taking Selfies and Yes, Poking.

Charming personality, winning sense of humor, spontaneous, and attractive in a Jon Hamm way but doesn't know it – these are my must-haves in a potential boyfriend. Not that I'm the Yoda of dating and modern relationships but I have dated the whole gamut in my 26 years, i.e. A preacher's son, an atheist, Satan with an SEC haircut, the guy who sells Christmas trees at Home Depot and the guy with a trust fund who I affectionately refer to as Vacay Cam. What do all of these dopes have in common? They love to tell you all about every major and minor activity they're apart of, pictures and ridiculous hash tags included. Lucky me, right? 

Here are some of the odd, unnecessary and sometimes down carny cray social media behaviors of guys everywhere that drive us crazy…and not in the warm and fuzzy I-want-to-jump-you way. Feel free to relate. 

Checking In Everywhere.

I don't need to know when and where you eat every meal and who you take with you. Guys only check-in and tweet their exact location for one of two reasons: they want to impress a girl or they want to make a girl jealous. Both are bad. Guys, if you want to impress a girl try taking her out on a date and having conversation while making her laugh. Occasionally throw in a word or two about your career goals and/or your five-year plan and you're golden. Note: Ambition is attractive. On the other hand, guys often broadcast where they are and who's with them in a thinly-veiled attempt to make a current or ex lady-friend jealous or better, realize what a good time they're having with someone else. Those guys are the worst.  

Taking Selfies.

In the car whilst "driving." In line to get into "the most dope show EVER." At the gym about to “hit it.” I'm sorry, but when did it become socially acceptable for a grown ass man to spend 3-5 minutes taking a picture of himself doing nothing spectacular at just the right angle then applying the best filter for his skin tone and mood? I have total respect for most men until I see the dreaded picture of them posing with their sunglasses on, attempting to look serious while doing what I can only compare to pouting and then adding a #bored, #workhardplayhard or my favorite, #you'rewelcome. Ladies, if a guy is taking a picture of himself his non-existent self-confidence is mixing with his narcissistic tendencies to create one tool bag of a man. Steer clear until he sees the error of his ways. 

Poking and Other Unacceptable Ways of Saying Hello.

True story: I still get "poked" 2-3 times a week by two different guys who feel like we're on the friend level since we attended the same university eight years ago. Nice try. I don't recall ever having a conversation with either of them of substance and needless to say I find the poking to be just as awkward as when it was first introduced and somewhat acceptable. Have I ever returned the sentiment? Never. Come on guys, social cues. Sure, we joke about guys not having a clue and sometimes needing to hear us spell it out, but they aren't completely inept. No (normal) female sees such behavior and thinks, "Wow, he knows what's up. I have to have him now." 

My final piece of advice? Girls, since we run the world, feel free to be the beacon of truth to the guy or guys in your life. Preach the good message that to be seen like a man they shouldn't post everyday like a needy girl or my bored mother who just discovered “The Twitter.” Instead, post with discretion and always with humor in mind when you feel like it. Then unplug. Besides, a little mystery goes a long way. 

xoxo,

B

february love.

So it's February. The month of LOVE. The month of Beyonce, apparently. Ooh and the Grammys and then the Oscars. The shortest month of the year with the biggest heart. Yep, I went there. Why? Because I love all the cheesy odes to love. I appreciate that Americans buy pounds of the candy hearts that shouldn't be edible. I love that first graders (and me) pick out just the perfect Hello Kitty valentine for their chosen besties. 

I don't get the 87% of you that trapse around all month like "blah blah blah, I'm cold and I hate couples" and/or "blah blah blah, I wish my boyfriend was hot" and so on and so on. First of all, no, I am not dating Ryan Gosling but at least I can sleep well knowing that he is not with a girl he's with Eva Mendes. Don't settle for a fool but do flirt, flash your best "let's mix it up, maybe?" eyes and throw the (attractive, nerdy) guys a bone. Have some fun. Love is fun. 

You're tired of the winter drab? Move to the South. It's currently sunny and 64 which I realize isn't a heatwave but it's far better than Minnesota. Also, don't be afraid to let your wardrobe get a little gloomy, ie. Black on black on black is always chic, but do throw a little color in there when you feel so inclined. In case you've forgotten, other colors other than black include: teal, fuscia, white, green, gray and glitter.

If you're still not feeling the love, go find your best friend and just hug the mess out of them. I can promise that they will either hug you back and you'll both get all Hallmark or they'll clam up and you'll both get awkward and laugh for 10 minutes. Both options have awesome outcomes and you'll be that much closer to a better relationship with your home fry and Cupid himself. 

Love you all. Mean it.

XOXO-B

Kanye/Kim 2012.

Not to get political with you (again) but election season is HERE.
Overachievers have already voted and put a picture of their American flag sticker on Instagram. #nofilter
Most all conversations with anyone somehow come around to which character was the least dopey in the last debate, Paul Ryan's hair and how PBS without Big Bird will suck. So friends and loved ones, by all means be a good American and vote, but please, let's change the conversation. Especially if you're trying to be charming/fun. Nobody wants to be an Ann Coulter.  

Here are some acceptable, un-presidental points of discussion:

Halloween Costumes

Trust falls

Honey Boo Boo's Future

If Beyonce ever gets nervous

Why you continue to watch Nashville

Should you have a baby

Should you get a dog

Why you haven't been asked to be on Girls, yet

Bath Salts

Ryan Gosling

Going gluten-free 

China

In the words of Kanye, I'm just trying to change the color on your mood ring. Go vote.

XOXO

B

Dear B: Should I Buy TSwift's New Album?

Hi B,

So Taylor Swift's new album dropped at midnight last night and I really wanted to stay up and buy it but I fell asleep watching a Real Housewives reunion. Everyone is going on and on about how awesome it is but then again, she kind of drives me crazy. So should I buy it or just read all the Facebook posts about it?

Dear Indecisive Psycho,

Please tell me you stayed up last night because you had taken too many naps that day and really enjoy watching catty, middle-aged women quarrel at expensive parties. Sure, I can understand that. We've all been there. Just please don't tell me you planned on skipping the beauty sleep to legally download new "music" from Swifty… let's at least pretend to have some semblance of a life.  

Now look, Tay Tay is not my favorite, although in all honesty it's a hate/tolerate relationship with that not-so wild one. I HATE her voice. I TOLERATE her bangs. I HATE her recent obsession with an underage Kennedy and how coincidentally she has started dressing more Jackie O-ish. I TOLERATE her enthusiasm for snagging a Kennedy, I mean come on, who wouldn't want kids with that hair? I HATE her "You mean I really won this award? Again?! This is such a surprise!" face. I TOLERATE her "You cheated on me so now I will ruin your life while being more successful than you" lyrics. 

So yes, buy her album. Ignore that it's named after a color. I give you my blessing.

XOXO

weekend debrief.

Grace Potter played two shows at the Ryman and we were in front-row pews for both.

The girl loves Nashville almost as much as she loves short dresses and a spiked heel, so put on a show she did. Friday night she covered Crazy on You and then decided to put a Nocturnal spin on Madonna's Like a Prayer for the second encore.
Saturday she took off her heels and danced around the stage after telling the "ghosts of the Mother Church" to come out and play. 

 After meeting her parents and shaking her hand I feel like we're basically best friends. Come back soon, Grace.

xoxo

Jack Goes to Jackson.

Last night Jack played in my hometown, in the same establishment where I grew up performing - dance recitals, talent shows and really gay musicals. So yes, it was a bit strange seeing everybody backstage as they were, laying around listening to Buck Owens before rocking the hell out of the place - and rock the hell out of the place they did. The craziest act that building had ever seen prior to Mr. White coming to town was my "risque dancing-on-a-table" sequence in the 2004 production of Bye Bye Birdie. Yep, that actually happened. 

SO as you can now imagine, it certainly did not suck seeing Jack and his incredibly talented cohorts completely own it. 

Talk about a religious experience. 

See? Pretty much the same. (said no one ever)

Almost Friday!

XOXO.

Yep, I was right.

Chris Thile really is a genius.

I have always been a fan of his mandolin-based, bluegrass sound, from his solo albums to his latest and greatest with The Punch Brothers. He was the perfect conversationalist when we watched Super Jam at Bonnaroo together, going on and on about his love for the Ryman while randomly breaking out into small jigs. So yes, while sometimes he looks fifty shades of awkward I find him hilarious and above all, mad talented. Also note that my friend and life coach, Beth, has a serious obsession for him that far trumps my 12 yr. old unhealthy obsession with Justin Timberlake. 

So whether you're a fan or not, it's time to give the man mad props for being the youngest of 23 people awarded a $500,000 MacArthur Foundation "genius grant" Monday. The news came as a complete surprise since recipients don't even know they've been nominated until they get a phone call of congratulations - nominators remain anonymous and winners have to wait two months before telling the world.

My favorite is that it took several attempts to get Thile to actually answer the phone since he's awesome and screens unknown numbers. His tour manager finally googled the number and when MacArthur popped up they called right back...after Thile picked himself off the floor of his Ryman dressing room. 

So basically he is deemed a genius and will receive $500,000 over the course of 5 years to do whatever he wants to do. Word on the street, aka Rolling Stone, is that he plans on purchasing a vintage 1925 Gibson F5 - there were only 200 made - and funding a new bluegrass quintet of sorts. 

I don't care what he does as long as he keeps making great music and doesn't shave his head. Congratulations, Mr. Thile. 

Real talk.

Last week I turned 26. A big milestone, if you're into that sort of thing. Age is terrifying, yes, fine, I agree. What's even more terrifying is the unnatural tradition of celebrating our inevitable loss of youth with toxic dyes and carbs, but I do love social gatherings. My friends proved to not only be pretty but functional, showering me with love and parties and glittered treats all week long. Even better, not one of them instagrammed a picture of me drawing a watch on my arm after Karaoke Santa told me no rap songs allowed until after midnight. After taking a nap and rehydrating I concluded I feel great about being 26. Everything is as it should be and it's all happening. 

With that being said, there are still questions left unanswered, people and ideas I can't seem to wrap my head around even now that I'm a year older. I'm sure you can relate.

THINGS I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND:

purity rings

Ashton Kutcher

boys who don't have real jobs

tap water

Scientology

people who (still) don't have an iphone

girls who do CrossFit

Mitt Romney

Mitt Romney's sons who resemble Ken dolls

shoulder dancing

Don Draper-shadiness

maxi dresses

the state of Alaska

people who leave voicemails

There are more, trust me, but (some of us) have career ladders we're trying to climb and long lunches to take. I love you all. #freefiona

xoxo

girl crush: jessica lea mayfield

This girl is golden. At 22 she has mastered the art of stark vulnerability. Her lyrics are piercing in a way you can't quite place, and her sound is the perfect mix of blues and country, with a little bit of rock mixed in for extra spice. At 15, she recorded her first album in her brother's bedroom, printing only 100 copies. One of those copies miraculously fell into the hands of Dan Auerbach (respect) and after sending her a message on MYSPACE - yes, I'm serious - they hit the studio together and have been releasing amazing music ever since.

"I think she's dark and moody in a mysterious way," Dan said of the recording experience. " I'm just always really excited to make music with her."

If that isn't enough reason to dub her a badass I'm not sure what is. 

Who: Originally from Ohio but spent most of her childhood in Nashville. She recently bought a four-bedroom 1890s farmhouse in Ohio and painted one of the guest bedrooms red, white and blue so she can tell her guests they're sleeping in "America." She's freaking weird and I love it. 

Sounds Like: A sexy and disarming collision of country, old school rock and a little bit of pop. Got that? It makes sense in my head and when you listen maybe this will all make sense. Think Lucinda Williams with a little Jenny Lewis-ness while looking like a teenage version of Michelle Williams. 

Her and Mr. Auerback: Dan discovered Mayfield's first EP White Lies on MySpace when she was still in high school. Supposedly Dan sent her a message like this: "Hey, I play in a local band called the Black Keys. Let's hang out." They recorded eight songs on day one of their friendship and Dan has released all of her albums since. I love a good collaborative effort. 

Mean Romantic: Since she began writing at the age of 11, all of her romantic experiences ended up documented in music. In her early stuff she wrote about firsts - first kiss, first boyfriend, first heartbreak - and in her last two albums she's moved on to more raw emotion with more, um, agressive lyrics. How does she describe it? "The new album is kinda me being a dick." 

Listen Now: Our Hearts Are Wrong (Tell Me) 
"my self-esteem is heating up the room, you're intimidating as all hell but I ain't scared of you"

You've Won Me Over (With Blasphemy So Heartfelt) 
"and it's okay if you love me cause you love everyone that you know
and it's okay if you kiss me cause you kiss all the girlies you know
and i'd stand my ground if i had a leg to stand on
and you should avow for your award winning performance
cause you won me over"

You're welcome. xoxo. 

be a go-getter, people.

Today's message is two fold but can be summed up in one call to action: be a go-getter. I'll explain in the form of two stories, the first of which is both hilarious and ridiculous, the second is just ridiculous. Shall we begin?

Ending a relationship is never fun. It's typically awkward and then plain awful, usually with one party feeling oddly reflective while the other is off making a pizza in his basement. Stopping something that was started months or years prior is strange and feelings are always hurt. The worst? Getting back your stuff. A simple task mysteriously becomes an act of Congress. Rocket science, even.

Suddenly you find yourself a victim to your own master plan, placing the bag of his oxfords and socks (among other items)  out in the morning, bringing them in at night. Tired of this routine I decided to send a cordial email requesting immediate action or he could find said items at Goodwill - see that? That is what we call being a go-getter....then a miracle happened. Back to the house after a fancy night at Holland House and found the bag to be gone. I (half) ran to the mailbox in my favorite wedges and there it was, my bible, in the mailbox, per my request. No pearls, but I figure one out of two isn't bad.

Now on to the just plain ridiculous, and disheartening really. If you know and love Nashville, or read magazines, you know and love Imogene + Willie. Not only have they single-handily brought back the concept of customized denim but they have a massive following of rockers with royalties and generally awesome people. The owners, Carrie and Matt Eddmenson, have not only brought excellent merchandise to 12 South but have encouraged community in the neighborhood with your favorite and mine, Supper + Song. One night a week they welcomed the community into their store's backyard to enjoy Mas Tacos and a free live show of epic proportions...maybe the most memorable was watching Karen sing to her kiddos who were busy making requests. I looked forward to every show, and if I wasn't able to attend I felt great just knowing it was happening.

So what's ridiculous? Due to sound complaints (what is wrong with people?) this lovely event is cancelled indefinitely, per a statement released this morning. What can we do? Speak up in the form of an email to the big guy: mayor@nashville.gov and state your case, preferably in well-written prose. Be that go-getter and let's keep supper + song.

Word.
XOXO.

here's to you, Bonnaroo.

Another year, another Bonnaroo: the Manchester music festival's 11th run but the first for this girl. Why had I never been before? Timing mostly and a fear of the cliches: too hot, no shade, way too many people and not enough showers. Thanks to those fears and about a million suggestions from Bonnaroo veterans, my girls and I were basically prepared for the apocalypse. However, when we arrived on Thursday after the quick drive from Nashville, complete with an OJ Simpson-esque car chase, we were pleasantly surprised. No long lines or scorching heat! Just music. And lots of crazy outfits. Perfection. With 80,000 people in one place for four days you hear a lot - here are my favorites from the weekend.

"If you from the South, make some ------- noise!" 
- Ludacris' highly effective opening line.
Alright so I was just as perplexed as the next girl when I heard Luda Luda would be playing a set, and in a tent no doubt. Sure, Bonnaroo might not have been his target audience but people showed up, singing and dancing to all of his hits while he ran around like a crazy homeless man. Entertaining? Absolutely. Were the chicken and beer balloons and stripper pole necessary? Probably not. But it was Ludacris.

"I just want to go into this tent and scare some people." - Kenna

"Be careful, they might scare you back." - Chelsea

(They then walked past the tent and noticed a couple potentially conceiving a Bonnaroovian baby, if you will. Awkward.)

"It's because it's just so ----- sparkly." - tiny girl, hula hooping during the RubbleBucket's set.

Alright so after hearing a little Radiohead we headed to a baby tent to hear a funky band with the best props and crowd-surfing tuba-ist. Before their set this tiny girl was intensely hula hooping in the middle of said tent. As she got more crazy with it more people sat down and watched, including one gentleman who sat by us and struck up a conversation.
Guy: "Hey, what's your best trick on that thing?"
Hula: "I don't really know." (continues to hula, drops the hoop, then starts again)
Guy: "You know I don't want you to think I'm a creep because I keep staring at you hula hooping."
Hula: "It's because it's just so ---- ------ sparkly."

"I want to see everyone take off everything they have and put it in the air!" - Major Lazer
I am only one person but I did not see anyone take him up on his nudity offer.

"I feel a lot of love in the field." - Seth Avett, after errybody sang along to Murder in the City.

"He's just so cute I want to put him in my pocket!" - Kenna, referring to Trampled by Turtles front man, Dave Simmonett.

We all know my love for these boys, and let me tell you, they did not disappoint. We worked our way to front and center, ending up by a girl named Katie from Minnesota who had never heard their music, and after they completed their own sound check they play an incredible set full of favorites and a nice cover of "The Weight." They need a bigger tent next year, Bonnaroo.

"Hey, do you have time to cook my 'shrooms?" - Random dope to the "cooks" at a food truck.

"She pulled up in her Cadillac." - Me, noticing some of the older crowd pouring into the field for The Beach Boys.

"He has a few missed calls and two messages." - Chelsea, referring to the young man passed out in the sand in the middle of the Other Tent with his phone on his chest, totally oblivious to the massive crowd awaiting the show to start.

"Where are you staying tonight?"- Punch Brothers front man Chris Thile at Superjam ft. QuestLove.

Curiousity and a member of The Roots led us to this show, not knowing who would be the highly anticipated special guest. We weaved our way to a nice spot close-ish to the stage and incidentally next to the Punch Brothers and a bottle of wine. Chris started talking to us, asking about tennis and telling us that D'Angelo was in fact the special guest. (!!!) Lots more conversation and shenanigans and then it was time for this girl to peace out. I went to say bye to Chris and instead of a high five he basically picked me up with a bear hug and asked, "Where are you staying tonight? Why don't you come with me?" I laughed and left with my girls.

"I am getting Verizon the second we get back to civilization."
- Me, referring to AT&T's ridiculously bad service

"Does anybody know where that compound with the baby doll head is at?" - Kenna trying to find the "landmark" to lead us to our car and home to our cozy cabin.

Despite and in spite of it all I'm a fan. Bonnaroo won me over and I can't wait to see what next year brings! Maybe cotton candy and the return of Grace Potter? Until then.

xoxo

love is interrupted, jack says.

Jack White.

It's no secret that I suffer from a mild case of severe admiration for the man. He plays the best guitar and manages to turn out excellent music with each band that he cultivates. He's mysterious enough to keep people (and the press) curious while leading a pretty simple life, which includes being a dad and a Nashvillian. Yes, I mourned a small bit for the official break-up of your favorite and mine, The White Stripes, but I fell in love all over again when the Raconteurs played a sold-out show at the Ryman last fall.

Jack has done it all, but this spring we're going to see a first: a solo album. Recorded in its entirety at Third Man, "Blunderbuss" is set to release in late April, which cannot come soon enough. Thankfully he went ahead and released a single, "Love Interruption," today via JackWhiteIII and hits iTunes later tonight.

As for comments on the solo project, Jack kept his thoughts to two sentences: "I've put off making records under my own name for a long time, but these songs feel like they could only be presented under my name. These songs were written from scratch, had nothing to do with anyone or anything else but my own expression, my own colors on my own canvas."

Here's hoping that he plays the Ryman. and Bonnaroo.

xoxo

tis the season!

Well sugarplums, the holidays are upon us. All of us are excited for the fat guy in the red suit to bring lots of goodies, because naturally, we have been very good this year and deserve that one month of unlimited Pure Barre classes. Tis the season to have some time away from the job and to spend how we choose, right? So what are we to do with your holiday-induced free time? One can only spend so much time opening presents and watching that It's A Wonderful Life marathon with the family.

Here are my suggestions for how to spend some of your holiday break, none of which require an ugly Christmas sweater...

1. Make Christmas cookies. They're easy to make with minimal clean-up and they really impress when edible. Oh, and you can decorate them with icing and sprinkles, if you're into dyes and processed sugars.

2. Watch Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and quote the film in its entirety. Don't be scared. Christmas is a time of perpetual joy - say that to those friends/lame family members that accost you for perfectly reciting your favorite Kevin McCallister lines. "Suck brick, kid!"

3. Go shopping. Whether it's fighting the dementors to get that last minute gift for so and so or taking back that awful pajama set in an attempt to exchange for something you actually like, get out there. It's the only American way to be one with the yuletide.

4. Listen to your favorite (non-Christmas) vinyls at a high volume while singing along to every word. Trust me, this is just as awesome as it sounds. Christmas came early for me when I got both Jenny Lewis and The Civil Wars to add to my growing vinyl collection, so yes, I am full of joy and good cheer.

5. Eat ice cream for dinner. You know you are in the prime of life when you do this.

6. READ. You know, something other than a boring work email or the nutrition facts on your microwavable lunch. Pick up that book that you've been too busy with life and other drugs to read and get started. Holiday break is the perfect time to read something funny, i.e. Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? since you will undoubtedly need a little pick-me-up after hours of quality family time and seeing pretty much everyone you went to high school with at the local Wal-Mart. Christmakkuh is also the best time to read something a little more heavy, cue Joe by Larry Brown, which is what I will be reading. If it all gets a little too messy in your head you can always turn on that cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie and take those engines back to neutral.

7. Do something completely selfless for someone you've never met. You know, pay it forward. Need ideas? Buy a Contributor from one of the vendors around Nashville and buy one for five of your closest friends, too. Take cookies, see also #3, to that neighbor you have never actually met. Surprise the person in line behind you at whatever coffee shop and buy their latte for them. If you can't be nice at Christmas, you don't have a soul.

8. Spend an entire 24 hours doing things that YOU want to do. Want to stay in your pajamas all day and watch 3o Rock reruns while eating sugar cookies in the shape of snowmen? Do it. Merry Christmas.

9. Spend time with the people you love. Make plans, move plans around - do whatever you need to do to spend quality time with the people you care about. And as for that certain someone who gives you butterflies and sets your hair on fire? Be sure to tell them how much they mean to you. Don't be shy. Blame it on Christmas.

10. Take a nap.

xoxo.

blue sky and the devil.

…"Old worn out feelings
And yesterday's news
Just give me something
That I can use…"

Dreams came true this past week when Trampled by Turtles played their first show here in Nashville. And while yes, I am aware that this is rapidly approaching music blog status, I'm not sorry for telling you of their greatness.

Ah yes, ok, so the venue was small enough and the crowd included everything from oxfords to flannel...a solid showing for a bluegrass group from Duluth. They took the stage and I cannot express to you how perfectly happy I was from the moment they started playing. Their desolate ballads are hauntingly beautiful - you don't really know whether to sing along and smile or start to cry. Pretty early in their set they played one of my favorites, "Methodism in Middle America," and later they covered the Pixies' "Where is My Mind." Incredible. By the end of the night I was in such a euphoric state that I wanted to head to the country and never return…or quit my job and follow those five guys on the rest of their tour. Win-win if you ask me. We were all captivated by the whole scene, including Kenny, famous for knowing every rap since Tupac's day, fell in love with the bluegrass, and the lead singer, right then and there.

Oh man, I really can't say enough about these guys. I would love nothing more than to be their publicist and let's face it, I would probably already be a groupie (do those exist anymore?) if I didn't have a job and all that. Just trust me on this one: you want to hear this band. I even played a little "Wait So Long" for my 8th graders pre-fall break, and while they were skeptical at first -yelling out phrases such as "Who are these white guys?" and "We thought you liked Kanye!" - they ended up singing and clapping along.

So please, do yourself a big favor and (legally) download both "Duluth" and "Palomino" and give in to the bluegrass. You're welcome.

P.S. 903 just got a little more awesome…we now have a record player.

the Business.

Oh man. Saturday night I had a spiritual experience in the form of

J Roddy Walston and the Business.

True, I've sang their praises in blogs past, but had never seen them live and in all their gritty glory until this past weekend. The venue was small and the opener to the opener sang a song titled "Bitch, This Isn't L.A." - not my style by any means, if you can imagine, but comic relief if nothing else. We somehow survived the boys in skinny jeans and teen angst tunes just in time for my main squeeze to take the stage.

Initial thoughts...Wow, he has great hair. Like really great hair. We all know how important this feature is to me. J Roddy was also sporting Raybans and a wedding ring, the latter of which was a surprise but hey, he's a man of commitment, I can respect that... and be a tad jealous of his lady.

As soon as he started banging that piano with "I Don't Wanna Hear It" we all started singing and jumping like fools, and the great thing is no one cared! It was one of those shows where every one around me was singing along to every word just like I was, so I really didn't care how dopey I looked dancing around like a crack addict singing "I know you hate me baby but don't break the needle." They played all of my favorites, including "Brave Man's Death" where he basically made the piano his bitch in front of my very eyes. I might or might not have semi-yelled that very sentence amongst the madness. Maybe it was the boots I borrowed from Kenny. Nah, it was definitely J Roddy.

Ooh, and pre-J Roddy taking the stage I happened upon 1/3 of the Business, the bassist who was in plaid and also hiding out front whilst the opening band did their thing. We started talking about nonsense, he mumbled between drinks and it was pretty loud but I managed to make out "Great, what song do you wanna hear later?" to which I answered "Caroline" and the aforementioned "Brave Man's Death." They played both, and I was happy. And yes, he was a great kisser.

I'm working on katielovesjroddy.com now.

Until then, get their music and get ready to keep it on repeat.