Taylor Swift: Little Miss Perfect

In fact, the only cause for concern is that Swift may be slightly too good, too  cautious—career-focused with such an unswerving sense of propriety that she is not acting her age. She confesses that she hasn’t kissed a boy since her album came out nearly two years ago (“I just don’t have the time”) and that she skips parties with her high school friends to avoid any underage scandal that may arise: “There could be drinking there or whatever. Your career could go up in smoke just like that. It’s not worth the risk.” What 18-year-old creates a world that consists entirely of work—and excludes the delights of dating, gossip and keg stands? When will repressed temptations cause her to break out in boils and hives and run naked across the tidy lawns of Hendersonville, calling the names of Sam and Drew?

Not this month, certainly. She has partnered with Tennessee Governor Phil Bredesen in a cause that could offend no one: combating Internet sex predators. (“It’s such an important issue,” Swift intones.) She says she plans to vote in November’s presidential election, but when asked if she’s a Democrat or a Republican, you can see the wheels turning, as she searches for the ideal inoffensive non-answer: “I don’t think I’m either.”

Swift takes Blender out to lunch at a local Applebee’s—“You may as well get the full Hendersonville experience,” she quips—and is instantly thrust into press-the-flesh mode, patiently signing autographs for all the fans who flock to her table. This includes a ditzy waitress who at first fails to recognize her, then asks if anyone has ever told Taylor she looks like Faith Hill and finally suggests she consider a modeling career. Later today, Swift is scheduled to fly to Phoenix to sing at a corporate event for Procter & Gamble. “It’s going to be fun,” she chirps. “I love so many of their brands.”

Britney Spears and Paris Hilton might roll their eyes at this naiveté, then hijack an SUV to the next Beverly Hills debauchery. But there is a large part of the U.S. that still prefers good behavior over bad. And in a country where blond female singers are the new gangsta rappers, Taylor appeals to moms who worry about their daughters having proper role models, and who’ll happily buy a pair of $28 tickets to spend a wholesome family night out and support an ideal.

After lunch, Swift takes Blender for another drive and cues up a bunch of new demos, each catchier than the next: a tense rocker, cowritten with Kellie Pickler; a sweet folk-tinged song dedicated to BFF Abigail; an unreasonably hooky ’80s-style power ballad. (Swift declares herself “the biggest Def Leppard fan in the world.”) In late March, she’ll hit the road with country mega-hitmakers Rascal Flatts, popping into the studio in free moments to start her next album. “Taylor will be around a long time,” Brad Paisley predicts. “Her audience will grow with her.”

In the meantime, Swift can indulge her one apparent vice: schadenfreude. The liner notes to the deluxe edition of Taylor Swift include an epic list of thank-yous, followed by a taunting postscript: “To all the boys who thought they would be cool and break my heart, guess what? Here are 14 songs written about you. HA.” You can’t help but feel for the guy who inspired Swift’s latest single, “Picture to Burn,” where she nyah-nyahs, “So go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy/That’s fine, I’ll tell mine you’re gay.” Taylor’s Mean Girls moments are reminders that, despite her grown-up career and sylphine presence on the red carpet, she’s a teenager, just a few years removed from the daily humiliations at Wyomissing Area Junior High.

Steering her Lexus down the winding road back to her house, she recounts a close encounter with another ex-boyfriend, the guy who inspired the hit heartbreak ballad “Teardrops on My Guitar.” “I was on my way out of the house to meet Carrie and Kellie for the hockey game,” she says. “He was standing there in my driveway. I haven’t talked to this guy in two years. I was like, ‘Um, hi?’” She chuckles gently. “It would have been really cool and poetic if he had turned up at my house right after my album came out. But it was two years later. A couple of things had happened in my life since then. I was like, ‘It’s really great to see you. But you’re a little late.’”