Friday, November 16, 2007


Sometimes it's hard to blog, because so many things aren't blog-safe. Work is rife with great stories, but I'm afraid they are too identifiable. So I'll have to save those for my memoirs, the ones I'll write when I have enough money to retire, which, if those online retirement calculators are correct, will happen somewhere around the age of 256.

So instead I will offer a book review. A two book review. I had a discount coupon for Borders and it was burning a hole in my wallet - actually about to expire. So I spent it on this book and its sequel. Because I was in the mood for funny, and she gets RAVE reviews on Amazon - reviews I have concluded must have been planted by the publisher. Because this ain't no David Sedaris. It's not the Sweet Potato Queens, it's not Dave Barry, and the comparisons to the sainted Erma Bombeck are truly wildly inappropriate.

Maybe it's my fault for buying both books and reading them back to back. Perhaps you need a breather in between, and this was just overload. I will admit there are a few chuckles, she does get off a few sharp, witty lines, but at this point (almost halfway through book two) she has become that annoying bitch who shows up at happy hour and drones on about herself and thinks she's funny, when she's really just irritating. I am at the point where if she mentions her goddamn boob job again, I'm going to throw the book across the room and aim for the fireplace. It wasn't all that funny or well-told the first time, and by now I am snorting in disgust every time "they" are resurrected for another tired round of discussion of life with fake hooters. Put them away, please!

She interviews David Sedaris in the second book, and makes the entire encounter about HER. It's hard to imagine writing about an interview with David Sedaris that says almost nothing about him and is not funny either, but she pulls it off.

And then we're back to the fucking boob job. Oh and being middle-aged is sooo awful, and her body is falling apart and men ignore her, and on and on. Yep, the whiney co-worker - the one you cross your fingers and hope can't make it to happy hour.

Do not get suckered in by those Amazon stars - I think she bought those too.

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