Authors: Jen Lancaster
Tags: #General, #21st Century, #Lancaster; Jen, #Authors; American - 21st century, #Cultural Heritage, #Personal Memoirs, #Family Life, #Fiction, #Biography, #Jeanne, #Authors; American, #Biography & Autobiography, #Romance, #Women
Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover if Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, or Why Pie Is Not the Answer (28 page)
The city’s nonemergency line.
Jen’s Life Lesson #7843: No beer tastes as good as
forbidden
beer.
I do not have too many Baccarat crystal glasses in my house. Just every other kind.
My favorite story is when she disciplined her all-male classes by making them watch her wedding video. I can’t recall what prompted this punishment, but they never did it again. Apparently it was so effective, Wendy could just open the drawer where she kept the tape and everyone would immediately fall in line.
Sometimes I worry about my influence leeching into Angie’s life.
On the days I get the car.
For the most part, except when I declare myself on vacation from my diet.
Beavis and Butthead reference. Ten points if you caught it.
I will neither confirm nor deny this nasty rumor.
Also, many people do not wash their plates and silverware before donating them. To say I was appalled at the idea of being stabbed with a dirty steak knife would be an understatement.
And seventeen sangrias.
Which was more often than not.
Trademark pending.
Shit; what if they’re watching?
Which, disappointingly, is not green.
Hint—talk to the person talking to you.
How glad am I to have set both our TiVos for this auspicious occasion?
I think. I hope?
Why, self? Why?
Both my book signings go well this week. I’d like to say it’s because the more I have, the better I get, and this is the job I’m really meant to do. The more likely explanation is that I drank wine beforehand.
Only most of the time. Seriously, sometimes we leave at six thirty a.m. What are we, farmers?
Used to laugh at my mom for doing this before I realized it was hereditary.
What kind of dog hates her yard? A very, very spoiled one.
Or possibly because the big TV’s up there.
I’m Not the New Me
by the lovely and talented Wendy (not my thrift buddy) McClure. Buy now!
And they speak with a lot of exclamation points, too.
Fine; Old Jen isn’t quite dead yet.
Alone; no groups of angry chicks crying about birthday cake here.
Wikipedia defines these as tiny bite-sized morsels served before the hors d’oeuvres or first course. And yes, I’ve watched way too much
Top Chef
.
Even though I’d happily suck down a whole canister with a straw at the moment.
In unlimited amounts.
Too bad I can’t go all Jim Halpert on her and pop the damn thing with some scissors.
After a hefty down payment.
Meaning she didn’t find me funny.
I suspect Maggie may be avoiding me.
FYI? It’s not.
Also known as book signings.
That’s six steps on the pedometer I’m not going to purchase.
I don’t mean to get all religious here, but I’m pretty sure key lime martinis (with a graham-cracker-and-sugar rim) are proof that Jesus loves us.
Tax deductible, of course.
Key lime martinis are a fruit, yes?
Obviously my preferred plan.
Sexy! As in "not.”
I may not be athletically coordinated, but I’m certainly a gold medalist when it comes to color coordination.
This is also why he won’t order chicken in a restaurant or buy his own hair gel.
Also, the Viet Cong were the bad guys. Yay me and my poli sci degree!
Not that I’ve been invited to any Edgartown soirees. But if I am, I will be ready.
Wait; am I the only person not in a training bra who still has to do this?
Although it may have something to do with all the snakes.
I told him if we got a suburban home with a game room, the only game I’d play would be Russian roulette.
What with my parents’ children’s propensity for being assholes and all.
Shut up. That’s why we chlorinated the water.
I take some comfort in knowing I left enough of myself in that water for my legacy to swim on forever. Or until they drain it.
And I will tear up when Bill Pullman does his speech at the airfield, like I do every single time.
You were expecting a love scene? From me, who wears a bathing suit in a hotel bathroom Jacuzzi and from the man who thinks a pooper-scooper is a romantic birthday present? Your breath? Don’t hold it.
Jen-point quiz: Guess what movie this line comes from.
And yet if you asked me who the Illinois state senators are, I would have no idea.
A roasted ear of corn on the cob, covered in mayo, lemon juice, and spices. Used to think they were disgusting . . . until I had one.
Cute for the first month. Now it’s getting on my nerves.
If I’m dieting,
every
creature in this house is dieting.
Yes! My Target stocks booze! How great is that?
Weight Watchers’ numerical system of factoring in fat, calories, and fiber.
Target liquor may have been involved.
Next time, jackass. Next time.
At least not in this decade. Recently we were invited to a party and the invitation said we should dress like we did in the eighties. But that would imply I ever stopped.
The only constant in our world is, the dogs will always be slightly naughty and we can’t have nice things.
That number currently being zero.
Fine; maybe it’s common sense. But if it were so common, would the diet industry gross billions each year?
So that’s where the closet business comes from.
Oh, great. Now I’m so aggravated I’ve turned into a freaking pirate.
I am sorely tempted to get my own whistle so I can start beaching other
162
I am sorely tempted to get my own whistle so I can start beaching other patrons. If my hair gets splashed one more time, fists will be thrown.
Orange-death flavored!
But you can get them at your favorite bookseller for $14 US.
If Mayor Daley ever gets his own talk show, I’m totally watching it.
I’m starting to get busy writing and I can’t keep up with the housework.
In this particular instance.
See again
“$20: My Pride.”
A rant for another day.
That is, if you walked into Ups ’N Downs. In 1987.
According to FBI.gov. Hey! Look at this! A real footnote. I rule!
Made with two-percent milk, it’s only four Weight Watchers points.
The same one—I
told
you I’d carry it forever.
Comin’ down, man.
I did not buy a new purse there, but it’s nice to know there’s a discount option.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE - Like I Haven’t Heard That Before
CHAPTER TWO - Pack Your Knives and Go, Mom
CHAPTER THREE - Talking (Terrible) Turkey
CHAPTER FOUR - Two Fat People Admit Defeat
CHAPTER FIVE - Lookin’ Good and Feelin’ Fine? Not So Much
CHAPTER SEVEN - I Wish I Could Quit You, Olive Garden
CHAPTER EIGHT - Gentlemen, Start Your Cheesecakes
CHAPTER NINE - It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
CHAPTER TEN - Careful What You Wish For
CHAPTER ELEVEN - I Like New York in June; How About You?
CHAPTER TWELVE - Less Talk-y, More Drive-y
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Reaching Critical (M)ass
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Metamorpha-Sissy
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Et Tu, Valerie Bertinelli?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Enough with the Cake Already; God!
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Swim It Out, Bitch
CHAPTER TWENTY - The N-a-k-e-d Truth
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE - Like I Haven’t Heard That Before
CHAPTER TWO - Pack Your Knives and Go, Mom
CHAPTER THREE - Talking (Terrible) Turkey
CHAPTER FOUR - Two Fat People Admit Defeat
CHAPTER FIVE - Lookin’ Good and Feelin’ Fine? Not So Much
CHAPTER SEVEN - I Wish I Could Quit You, Olive Garden
CHAPTER EIGHT - Gentlemen, Start Your Cheesecakes
CHAPTER NINE - It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
CHAPTER TEN - Careful What You Wish For
CHAPTER ELEVEN - I Like New York in June; How About You?
CHAPTER TWELVE - Less Talk-y, More Drive-y
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Reaching Critical (M)ass
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Metamorpha-Sissy
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Et Tu, Valerie Bertinelli?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Enough with the Cake Already; God!
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Swim It Out, Bitch
CHAPTER TWENTY - The N-a-k-e-d Truth
