HAT MAKES ME HAPPY >>>

Bumpy's bathroom is what I'm all about. Nothing says "Steph DeRosa" like a little bit of trashiness mixed in with some faded pink porcelain. It warmed my heart experiencing this ultimate toilet. It spoke to me, it made me actually feel happy in this cold winter-ish-almost-spring-time. I get that stupid SAD depression disease every winter. You know, where you want to slit your wrists and draw a warm bath? Anyone else get this? Anyone? OK, fine, just me then.

I'm happy to say: It's springtime again. Well, close enough. I heard a bird chirp the other day. Maybe the bird was really only coughing or burping, but I'll take it as a chirp. The daffodils are poking their leafy greens up; the mud in my driveway has subsided, and my urges to punch people in the face have taken a backseat. Don't get me wrong; I still want to punch certain people in the face and watch them bleed profusely through their nose as I dip some warm toast in their blood and eat it for breakfast. Yeah, that part will always be alive inside me. Now I'm just a little bit more compassionate about it.

So in the spirit of all things mushy, warm, and happy, I've devised a Steph DeRosa list of things I love in life. The things that make me smile; make me appreciate life, and the things that simply make me want to have sex.

Music
Not the "pop radio" shit, but good, talented, feel it in the pit of your stomach poetry that's put to an original tune. I've always said the true test of a good band is how they sound live. I'll hear anything live at least once; this will tell me if they actually have the talent. The first time I saw James Blunt I walked out. That guy right there is by far one of the shittiest artists to ever hit the airwaves. I'm about to come out of my skin waiting for Wintergrass, SxSW, and all the summer concerts about to be hatched. I could go on and on about music, but I think you get my point.

BBQ, Beer and Sun
I'm from Texas. I was raised to believe that nothing else exists outside of the great Lonestar State, and if you were to give thanks to anything in life, it should be for BBQ, beer and sun. Snow can kiss my white ass.

Politeness and Respect
When people let you into traffic, hold a door for you, look you in the eye and smile, say please and thank you, and ask how you're doing today. The stuff mamma always said you should do, but now you're just "too busy." You should try it, it makes a difference in someone's day, I promise.

Hot men
All kinds, all types, all styles. Muscular, skinny, tattooed, clean cut, business suits, construction workers, facial hair or not: as long as you have a sense of humor and you're not a self-absorbed asshole (like a certain local beer distributor): then you have a chance to be a part of my mental "hot men" list. For all the potential hot men out there: the list is kept in my bra. Feel free to look at it anytime you want. That's right, I'm not above cheap thrills, not at all. Don't judge me.

Friends
Without sounding like a mushy 35-year-old broad, my friends are very important to me. They are the ones who share with me all of the above things I love in life. My closest friends don't judge me, love me unconditionally, and can laugh at my stupid immaturity without hiding under a table in fear.

The point to this week's Toilet Tales is this: Underneath the shabbiness, rough edges, pink faded porcelain, and raw music is almost always something beautiful and loveable. Appreciate the dirt, and with this you will appreciate what made it dirty. I have no idea what that even means, but it sure does sound cool, doesn't it.