I'm a producer, songwriter, or photographer and I'd love to work with you. How? Start with a bag of Cherry Twizzler bites and you'll win me over. Or sixlets. Or a shiny green apple and a jar of honey-almond butter. I'm always interested in working new people and if you're talented and driven, I don't care about credits or name-dropping (* unless the names include Stevie Nicks, David Letterman, or Laura Nyro. Then you get MAJOR points). Now, I strongly advise that insulting my current sound, images, music, etc. by saying how you can do it better is NOT a good start. It's not the best business acumen- just sayin'. Ass-kissing may get you a little farther, but someone who has tact and talent and drive will win my affection quickly.

You're so hot. Will you go out with me? I am not morally opposed to dating a fan (or someone pretending to be a fan to get my attention). I keep reading these interviews where people say they'd never date a fan. Spare me. Adulation rocks! I am morally opposed to dating people who write "2" instead of too and "ur so hottt" and have photos of girls in thongs all over their myspace page. Actually, I'm not that much of a fan of dating either. How about we hang out? At my show. And eat Cherry Twizzler bites in tandem and order a drink or two. Because that would be my ideal date anyway. Music and twizzler bites and Malibu with Cranberry juice.

How do you prepare for a show? Apples. Did you know they're the symbol for knowledge? Because rock stars are supposed to be smart (read: sarcasm). I'm usually a nervous wreck before a show. Ever see Bette Midler in the Rose before she goes on stage? Yep, that's me only I don't chant. I follow my apple-dinner with two apple martinis (to bring me back down to the proper IQ), then sing along to whatever's on the radio to warm up, and then tell Scott that I'm never performing live again. I'm really good at making ultimatums and breaking them.

How do you write your songs? Okay, I'll start by saying I always end up writing a song when I don't want to. When I have a lot on my mind, or a busy schedule, or my cat's yelling at me for more attention, or I'm on an overcrowded, smelly subway in the dead of summer. It starts with the hook and the melody line and usually there's one line of lyrics that is thrown in there to address my mental/emotional anguish. It's entirely spontaneous and I have to then hammer it out on my fine little Casio until it's done. I don't deal well with unfinished songs. I then light a candle and say a prayer of thanks to the universe for giving me another song, It takes me hours to learn my own song, then I play it for my cat's approval (she'll generally meow loudly and jump on the keyboard). I don't like writing songs to be forced work.

What is your music about? Huh? Didn't you listen? Read the lyrics? Don't listen too closely or you'll hear the hidden track that consists of me chanting, "buy chained by dreams, come to my shows, buy chained by dreams, come to my shows..." Really, you can hear this in every song. My producer, Scott Slater, is a genius to fit it in. But on the surface, well, I write about shattered dreams and souls and broken promises and crazy dudes from my past, and projected hope for the future of love, and all that stuff you're not supposed to write about in pop songs these days. Sorry, I don't write about my lip gloss or my, ahem, "snatch."

Were you really a Bette Midler groupie? Some say groupie, some say stalker. You can determine that yourself if you want to read the great, one-hit literary wonder that is "Bette or Bust." Just click here BETTE OR BUST FREE DOWNLOAD!

What do you do for fun? Travel, walk hundreds of blocks through the city, dance around with wheelchairs at a nursing home where I volunteer, paint abstract and terrible pieces of "art," kayak in the Hudson, eat cheeseburgers at shady diners, dress up in chiffon and scarves and spin around my tiny apartment like I'm at a Woodstock revival, and wear "weird" costumes for even weirder job assignments that pay my bills.

I emailed you and didn't hear back!!! You're not a real person are you?? I try to email everyone back but some days, it's really crazy. And then I get backlogged. And then I forget. But I'm real, don't worry. I've been called fake before but only by sociopaths. Wait, I'm not calling YOU a sociopath, I'm just saying in real life.

I really want to be a singer (actress, accomplished plumber, run my own funeral parlor, etc.) and want your advice on what to do. Why people ask me for advice is really a mystery to me. The only thing I'm an expert on is cutting apples with a paring knife and using sarcasm to diffuse uncomfortable situations. I guess I understand because I always ask for people's advice. From the bloke giving out free newspapers at the subway entrance, to my mom, to the random person on a bench in Central Park. However, I rarely follow what's given to me. Unless, it rings true with my instincts. So that's my advice, push forward and follow your ambitions, dreams, and your gut instinct. And if it doesn't bring you what you want, at least you did it your way. Life is too damn short to not follow your passion and it'll feel too damn long if you do something that makes you miserable.

Of course I have other influences that inspire me to do crazy things, write songs, and live freely. These includes Cherry Twizzler Bites, sixlets, black lace, purple and burgundy velvet, apples and almond butter, and a large glass of a dry red wine. Pat Conroy (my literary idol). David Letterman (the sexiest man to walk the planet). And also those poor fools who suffer me gladly. Every song is inspired by someone.