The only reason to pass up an entire all-access day pass at the Sundance Film Festival is the season premiere of “American Idol.”

That my father and my step-father can hold a 30-min telephone conversation about cars and tools and those lovely blonde twins that make my sister’s life a daily three-ring circus, that they can laugh and engage in criminally civil banter over long-distance lines, that they love each other and call every other week to make sure the other is doing okay, that is a remarkable thing.

One’s dog shouldn’t smell better than one’s own armpits.

A Diet Coke will not counteract nor eliminate a grilled cheese sandwich with french fries and chocolate cake.

Dustin Hoffman is shorter than my 11-yr old niece.

Sometimes you have to accept your family, no matter how inconvenient or frizzy-haired or insistent that they stick their fingers up your dog’s nose.

Snow is totally overrated.

Rachel Weisz is the best British import since Liam Gallagher, and people, Liam and I go back a looooonnnngg way.

I never knew my nose was capable of such boogers.

I thought Ed Burns was cool, until he showed up to that question and answer session in a beret and denim shirt.

Sometimes a woman needs to be reminded that she is the luckiest woman in the world, that men don’t usually come in such freakishly wonderful packages as he came.