Irony is the best company
I’m trying this newfangled concept of being a good little writer and actually writing. And then I found Jen Lancaster. Now, up until now, I’ve been in a good rhythm: write a story, read a book, write a story, read a book, etc. And this was working real well until I finished Such a Pretty Fat and found it so hilarious I immediately picked up My Fair Lazy.
Now, when I was in middle school, my parents were concerned about my–let’s just call it a tendency–to read when I should be doing something else (example: cleaning my room, listening in math class, etc). So, instead of writing, I’m reading a book not only titled My Fair Lazy but also subtitled “One Reality Television Addict’s Attempt to Discover If Not Being a Dumb Ass Is the New Black, or a Culture-Up Manifesto.” As if this weren’t enough, the entire set of memoirs is really about a woman who will think of just about anything to do in order to procrastinate getting her butt into the chair and writing. Let’s just say that if the definition of “sign” were a bit loose, things are now cleared up. Message received.