One day I’m going to get a book that was written by a friend and I’m not going to like it and then that’s going to be an awkward moment in front of my keyboard. Because what do you say? What do you do? Well the good news is that I have a while longer to figure that one out because I read Jill Smokler’s Confessions of a Scary Mommy and I fucking loved it. Damn it. Oh.
Jill is one of the first bloggers that I became friends with when I started blogging, one of the first in whose writing I recognized a relatable humor and to this day, Scary Mommy is one of my daily stops.
I was so happy to discover Scary Mommy (yes, I did discover it, this was before Jill was on CNN and on ABC and WKRP in Cincinnati) even though it made me sad that I didn’t have the blogging community when my children were babies and I was so lonely and scared and exhausted. Because Jill’s voice is so relatable and I know I’d have found comfort in it. In the poop, in the sleepless nights, in the exhaustion and all that other crap that doesn’t make us love our children any less, but good lord does it drain our life force.
And reading Confessions of a Scary Mommy felt a lot like having coffee with Jill. (Trust me, I’ve had coffee with Jill. I know whatof I speak. OMG. How is whereof a word and whatof not a word?) With headings like “Yes, You’ll Shit on the Delivery Table” and “Subjectively Revolting” each chapter made me laugh and be glad that someone had been there too and written about it.
So, yes, buy the book! Two thumbs up! (And seriously, it’s perfect for Mother’s Day!)
Want to know what else I’ve been reading?
Fifty Shades of Grey. You’ve heard of this book, yes? Originally written as Twilight fan fiction and then published and developed a cult-like following among “suburban mommies” and other mythical creatures. I’ve had friends who were talking about it last year but it wasn’t until I heard that it was sold out everywhere in NYC that I had to get it. I downloaded it and eh.
I don’t know, maybe I’m too old and dull but I just don’t get it.
I’m also annoyed that in this day and age we have to read phrases like “he entered her sex.”
“What the hell is her sex?” I asked my mah jongg playing ladies when I read that in Miami.
“Her sex is her vagina, you moron,” one of them told me and continued to sip her margarita. Well, I knew that, of course. But is that supposed to be erotic? Also, it’s very bondagy, which seems very draining and ouchy. And no one takes time to watch The Real Housewives of any county, so I’m just not feeling this book.
Finally, I’m sort of mildly offended by the press Fifty Shades had gotten, including some choice quotes by one woman who said that this was the first book she read in 7 years. Or 70.
I’m sort of stuck in the middle of this book and I may not even finish it.
Finally, I’m reading Catching Fire, the second book of The Hunger Games trilogy. I still like it a lot, although it’s definitely not as exciting as the first one. And I’m sorry, but how many teenagers sleep in each other’s arms the whole night and not even kiss, let alone do some bondage stuff?
Hey, maybe I’ll write some fan fic based on it. Working title: Catching Fire With Your Sex.
What do you think?
This post contains Amazon affiliate links. What of it?
One year ago ...
- Nice Insult - 2011