Not even five minutes ago Paul calls me and says, "You'll never guess who I just met." Next follows his evil laugh, which can only mean one thing-- this is a person I would I'd sell a kidney on eBay to meet. In my excitement I demand he tell me, but calm down a little because I know
Dolly isn't in Baton Route--- my sense sixth tells me when she crosses the TN border. He says, "Her name is Adrienne." First clue--nothing for me. He continues, "She handles snakes."
OK.
At this point I squeal like a little girl (or like a five year old Dustin when hearing a Wonder Woman episode start to air--- and my parents say they
didn't know). After causing some inner ear damage for Paul, I exclaim,
"
RUTHIE!" It is no secret to anyone in my daily life that I am currently addicted to
Carnivàle, and that I have a raging gay-boy crush on Ruthie (AKA Adriene Barbeau). I love everything about her character. The way she moves when charming the
snakes-- now, those are moves I'd kill to master. She has some snazzy lines in the show, "No man will tell me what to do in my bed." Her age-- in my book-- sexty-something years old.
I am disappointed to report that Paul is not returning with "Ruthie's" autograph. Concerning autographs, according to him, he doesn't do that sort of thing. Well, I'll let it slide this time; HOWEVER, if he happens across Dolly and doesn't come back with an autograph-- he'll sleep the study for the rest of his life.
Within the past few weeks I've seen Notes on a Scandal, Thank You for Smoking, The Last King
of Scotland, and finished season two of Carnivàle. NOTES kept me on the edge of the couch; Judi was amazing in her role. THANK YOU kept me laughing-- "The great state of Vermont will not apologize for its cheese!" THE LAST KING depressed me because a dear friend of mine has loved ones who've experienced atrocities in Uganda. Carnivàle didn't leave me too happy. I didn't realize HBO pulled the plug on the show after season 2; now, I must live my life without Carnivàle closure. 
