"What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding" (a Memoir) by Kristin Newman

   I SO wanted to hate Kristin Newman!

   On my fave show "Fashion Police," there is a segment called "Bitch Stole My Look!," featuring two celebs caught wearing the same outfit, and the hosts dish on who wore it better. In Kristin Newman's case, I'm calling the segment "Bitch Stole My Life!," or at least the life I wish I had. Newman makes her living as a TV comedy writer, most notably for the wildly popular shows "How I Met Your Mother" and "That '70s Show," and makes a buttload of money doing it. I am also a writer -- of two twenty-something-selling books (aka not wildly popular) and three blogs I write for free that barely get noticed -- that scrapes by financially at a day-job in a salon. (If you are one of the few that do actually read my blogs: thank you, thank you, thank you!) With her buttload of money, Newman travels all over the world having fabulous adventures while on hiatus from writing. I, on the other hand, am a self-proclaimed adventurista (I have a blog to prove it!) whose only venture outside the USofA was twenty-some years ago to the Bahamas and whose most recent adventure was to Nashville (not so fabulous). And now it seems Newman is on the verge of being a best-selling author with this memoir and make even more money to fund even more exotic excursions while I sit home and write this free blog. In the battle of "Bitch Stole My Life," Newman wins big time, hence why I wanted to hate her.
   But I couldn't! She is too damn hilarious and fun and self-deprecating and crazy enough to try anything. Instead, I wanted to be her bestie, to be right by her side and "do the thing you're supposed to do in the place you're supposed to do it," her number one rule of adventuring. Except I'd have to draw the line at being by her side during the number one thing she does during her travels: having sex with foreigners. Bestie or not, three is a crowd in the bedroom (and on a boat, in a hammock, and on a kitchen counter -- just a few of the places Newman had international sex-capades).
   Love, love, love this book! Besides being one hell of a hootie read, this memoir is packed with bonus educational tidbits: fun things to see and do from Iceland to Antarctica (or close); how to pick up hot dudes when you don't speak the language; tips for writers on turning painful personal experiences into marketable material; and the basic rules for being a good traveler and travel companion. I do dig getting a two-fer! And Kristin, I have memorized and agree to abide by your road-tripping rules, so the next time you whip out your passport for adventures abroad, give me a call. Then we can write a buddy book or TV series about our time together, and I can get started on the life I wish I had!

http://theotherkristinnewman.com/

        

"Screw Everyone: Sleeping My Way To Monogamy" by Ophira Eisenberg

   Screw everyone, something I've said in my head many times, being a rebel at heart, but have never actually done. Guess I am more chicken than rebel when it comes to my genitals and STDs. Not Ophira Eisenberg though. In what started out as an experiment to "get rid of her virginity" as soon as she could, Eisenberg recounts schtupping her way across Canada and New York City in the hilarious book "Screw Everyone: Sleeping My Way To Monogamy."
   For you more modest readers, rest assured the title is more graphic than the coital contents inside. This is not porn disguised as a memoir. But it is a raucous romp through Eisenberg's revolving door of roommates, wacky jobs between comedy gigs, home-away-from-home dive bars, and sex-capades as she tries NOT to find "the one." She is a trooper, too, going back for more after her first sexual encounter with a "Top Gun" Goose-lookalike on a bathroom counter she recalls as being "two minutes long and kind of annoying." (I would have gotten rid of my virginity in a flash had a Maverick-lookalike come along for me! When "Top Gun" came out I saw it in the theater at least ten times and left titillated and moist every time!!) Then after her three-chord guitar strumming boyfriend who was hot in bed but had an even hotter temper, Eisenberg meets Michael, the one she thinks might be "the one" even though she doesn't want one. Turns out he is the one who can't accept her tryst with a Brit while she spent a year down under and he waited for her faithfully. Boo-hoo and bye-bye Michael. If you feel like a slut anyway, might as well be the biggest, best slut you can, right?!
   So Eisenberg really ramps up her sex-as-an-escape life post-Michael, having Canadian encounters Mickey (aka Mr. Anal Beads); Gene, with the smallest penis ever (he told her so himself); and Roger, the nice guy she nearly moved in with but fled to NYC instead. In the Big Apple, Eisenberg hopes to find a better quality of men under the tutelage of the clickety-clack gals, so named for the sound their heels made on the pavement. Even with their advice on how to handle New York men that are demanding and fickle and the necessity of being Brazilian waxed -- which for the half-Israeli Eisenberg lasts about 40 minutes -- the sexual pickings Ophira finds are even worse than in Canada. Take, for instance, the on-again off-again coke guy with the on-again off-again girlfriend, er, wife; the Dark Pony bar back with the best pot EVER that nearly got Ophira arrested and killed in her sleep by his psycho bitch waitress girlfriend; and Mr. "Thanks for the blow job but don't expect anything in return." Who wouldn't give up after those guys??
   Not Eisenberg. She keeps sleeping on and eventually meets "Bright Eyes," whom she thinks she might actually like. Only he won't go out with her because a) he can't date a girl that a friend of his already went out with (even though Ophira only went out with his friend by mistake as she thought the dude texting her for a date WAS Bright Eyes), and b) he isn't into actresses. "Um, I'm a comedian, not an actress," she finally convinces him, and he gives in to try a date. After spending most of her time and energy on sex-perimenting, morphing to a long-term relationship doesn't come easy for Eisenberg, but it sure is funny reading about her getting there. As you might have guessed from the title, there is a happy ending, but I'll let you find out for yourself.
   Read "Screw Everyone" while lazing by the pool this summer, and I bet you will meet someone new who stops to ask what you're laughing out loud about!

http://ophiraeisenberg.com/screw-everyone-sleeping-my-way-to-monogamy/

            

"Twisted Sisters" by Jen Lancaster

   Jen Lancaster, you can be my twisted sister anytime! Please?!
   In her third novel, "Twisted Sisters," Jen spins the tale of Dr. Reagan Bishop, a psychologist on television (or a television psychologist, depending on where you are in the story) who helps guests overcome their fears on the cable show "I Need a Push." Despite getting recognized in stores for her somewhat celeb status, Reagan never gets proper recognition or respect from her family for her accomplishments. Somehow Geri, Reagan's younger sister, gets all the family accolades, even though her only claims to fame are styling hair, singing karaoke, and being curvaceous (aka "fat ass," according to Reagan). After "Push" gets taken over by a big network, Reagan herself gets pushed into doing some pretty cray-cray things to make their guests "get well" by the end of each episode in order to boost ratings, plus not fail and therefore lose face even more with her family. What follows is a hilarious romp with body surfing through astral projection (like channel surfing only you switch bodies instead of channels), quirky characters, family feuds, serendipitous realizations, and the underlying theme that the truth as you judge it isn't always true, nor does it always bring happiness.
   Love, love, love this book! If you follow my blog, you know that back in January was the last time I raved about what I was reading, so I've been craving a good book BIG TIME. Thankfully, Jen never disappoints! I have to admit that I love her memoirs -- I've read them all and they are fabulous! --more than her novels, but to me "Twisted Sisters" is the ultimate combo of both genres because Dr. Reagan Bishop is SO Jen in so many ways. It's as if Jen channeled herself into Reagan, and then Reagan channeled herself into . . . I'll stop there, don't want to be a spoiler. What else did I love? I was tickled to see the Deva character resurrected from Jen's second novel "Here I Go Again." When she popped up in the story it was an awesome surprise, like an unexpected visit from an old friend. Deva's fat-fingered texting faux pas nearly made me wet my pants every time! Since I work in a salon, I totally dug the parts about sister Geri and her hair magic. And it is true, getting a new 'do CAN change your life, or at least how you feel about your life. I also adored Reagan's neighbors, Trevor and Bryce! Even though I don't speak gringo-gangsta and didn't know what they were talking about most of the time, I would definitely party with those dudes the next time I get a craving for cupcake-flavored vodka. Plus, they taught me the acronym "yolo": You only live once. (Well, actually they didn't teach me so much as they said it so many times I had to Google it to figure out the meaning, but still, now I know so I can be in the know when someone says yolo. So thanks, Playas!)
   So many things to love about "Twisted Sisters"! Probably the best thing about the book, besides all the laugh-out-loud laughs, is the Bishop family makes my family seem almost normal. Almost. 
   "Twisted Sisters": get it, read it, let me know if you love it too!

Here's a link to Jen Lancaster's website:  http://www.jennsylvania.com/

          

"The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion" by Fannie Flagg

   All hail to Fannie Flagg, the absolute queen of storytelling! She weaves a can't-wait-to-turn-the-page tale like nobody else, spins characters (some new, some old friends from previous stories) you wish lived right next door to you and you start to miss before the book is even finished, and teaches you a little something along the way. Now that is the very best of fiction writing!  
  In her newest novel "The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion," Flagg tells side-by-side stories occurring in different places and times, reminiscent of her bestselling novel "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe." In the beginning we get reacquainted with Mrs. Earle Poole, Jr., aka Sarah Jane "Sookie" Poole, daughter of the formidable Lenore Simmons Krackenberry, of Point Clear, Alabama. The last time I hung out with Sookie was in Flagg's novel "Welcome to the World, Baby Girl," when her kids were still little and her best college friend Dena Nordstrom comes to Alabama to escape the pressures of being a big city newswoman. Now Sookie's kids are all grown up, the last of her and Earle's girls are married off, and she is contemplating relaxing and figuring out what's next for her life. Believe me, never in her wildest imagination, even with the tad bit of crazy that runs through the Simmons' family, did Sookie figure on what happens next.
   While Sookie is fretting and fainting and seeing psychiatrist Dr. Shapiro on the sly (oh my!), we also follow the Jurdabralinksi family's journey all the way from war-torn Poland to Pulaski, Wisconsin, and them scoring a perfect 100 for the cleanest restrooms in the entire Phillips 66 Petroleum chain. Those Jurdabralinskis are a hoot! From fearless Fritzi to war-bound Wink-a-Dink to sweet Sophie, Flagg made me feel like I got to hang out with each and every one of them, got to hear their innermost thoughts, feel their fears and joys. And somehow through vignettes and letters, Flagg meshes the lives of Sookie Poole and the Jurdabralinskis into a charming, heartwarming, and thoroughly entertaining story that also reminds the world of the WASPS -- the Women Air Force Service Pilots -- that risked their lives to ferry planes to military bases during World War II despite being considered "volunteers" and never being eligible for military benefits. I was awed at the amazing courage of these lady fliers, 38 of whom died in service, who stepped up when their country needed them and were cast away with barely a "thanks" of recognition when the war was coming to a close.
   Thanks Fannie, for teaching me about the WASPS, acquainting me with the Jurdabralinskis (I hope I meet them again in another book!), and bringing Sookie back with a bang in a book of her very own. I love, love, love "The All-Girls Filling-Station's Last Reunion!" My only complaint is that it's been soooo long since your last novel, so get started on the next one right away!  

   

Agorafabulous!

   I consider myself pretty crazy. Not so much in the wild 'n crazy gal mode, although I can be that sometimes, but more the hide-the-knives-and-stay-out-of-my-way certifiable kind of crazy because of my occasional black funks of depression. But never once have I peed in cereal bowls and stashed them under my bed "until the acrid stench will peel the skin off the insides of your nostrils" to avoid the bad vibe of the bathroom. Nor have I given up eating in order to "eliminate excess energy in the body" so I can sleep 24/7 and avoid having to leave home. That is crazy! And that is just one hilarious episode from "Agorafabulous! :dispatches from my bedroom" by Sara Benincasa. Thanks, Sara, for making me feel almost normal for a change.
    In her roller-coaster ride of a memoir, Sara takes us from her nightmare agita-filled (in Italian, agita means "you're really nervous, your stomach hurts, or you've got the shits," or all three in her case) high school trip to Sicily; through her bowl-peeing sleep-until-you-stink college days; to working for Edgar, a power hungry hippie throwback even crazier than her, at the Blessed Sanctuary retreat; with a brief stop in Texas as a ninth-grade writing teacher "handling" Billy's boner; all the way to becoming a stand-up comedian. With all that material straight from her own life, I'd say she found the perfect career, wouldn't you?
   "Agorafabulous!" is a hootie read! While mental illness is nothing to laugh about, Sara spins her own struggles with agoraphobia, depression, and "unruly hair" into charmingly witty vignettes that will make you chuckle and possibly even feel a wee bit less crazy yourself. One of the jacket blurbs reads, "If I ever get thrown in a mental institution, my only hope would be having Sara as a cellmate." That goes for me too. If (or when?) my black funks take over my life completely, expect a collect call from me, Sara, to come be my roomie and bring a heaping helping of fabulous into my funk!

  

"I STILL HAVE IT . . . I Just Can't Remember Where I Put It: Confessions of a Fiftysomething" by Rita Rudner

   Rita Rudner, you deceived me! I have been on a kick lately of reading books about navigating the turbulent waters of hitting mid-life since I'm not doing it so well on my own. I thought this was one of those books from reading the flap blurb. This is SO not one of those books. But I ain't mad, I got nothing but love for you (a fave quote from "Independence Day" I just had to throw in here, in case there are any other "ID" fans out there), because I needed this book way more than more how-to-turn-50 tips. YOU MADE ME LAUGH! Out loud even, and that's rare for me. So thanks for deceiving me! And I could read the short chapters, each a stand-alone comedy routine, on my breaks and actually return to work with a smile! I'm sure my co-workers would say "thanks" as well if they were writing this with me.
   What parts made me laugh the hardest? That's tough to pin down because the whole book is hilarious, but here are a few for starters. I loved "Dining in the Dark," where Rita and husband Martin try to break out of their take-out habit by exploring one of "The Top Ten Hottest Places to Eat in L.A," according to Martin's magazine. Unfortunately, the article didn't mention they didn't actually get to "eat" at these places! All of the vignettes about house-hunting and moving and remodeling are hysterical -- of course, not to Rita and Martin, but then it did give her lots of writing material. Reading about Rita's quirky, crazy father gave me lots of laughs, and as a bonus made me feel that my own quirky, crazy father isn't quite so bad. "To Hell in a Handbag" is a hoot, especially since I've wrestled with my own "LV" envy over the years. And the Bonkers chapter stole the show, as he did Rita's show, as well as stole my heart! Put it this way, there is no un-funny story in the entire book!
   Plus the quotes made me laugh and tack up a few on my bulletin board! I'll only share my faves (because this is a book review, not an entire book!):

I can never ask for money back after I've loaned it to a friend and they forget to return it. The most I can do, when I'm over their house, is break something of that approximate value.

I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.

I don't plan to grow old gracefully. I plan to have face-lifts until my ears meet.

My husband won't let me sunbathe topless. He says he's afraid I might poke someone's knee out.

I don't want to be in good shape anymore. I don't want to be one of those women who look great from the back and then turn around and frighten people.

   See what I mean?! The quotes are fabulous! Even the last chapter, where Rita shares other book titles she considered -- "Artificially Hip," "That Botox Has Sailed," "Aged to Imperfection," "I'm Still Hot (It Just Comes in Flashes)" -- made me crack up so much I wanted to start the book all over again.
   If you're like me and can't afford a face-lift to make you feel better, get Rita's book and get a laugh-lift instead -- it's cheaper and totally pain-free!!

"The TAO of MARTHA" by Jen Lancaster

   Jen Lancaster and "The TAO of MARTHA (My Year of LIVING, or Why I'm Never Getting All That Glitter Off of the Dog)," oh how I love thee, let me count the ways:

• I love you for the dust jacket cover, with the sideways cake and homage to Martha in the starfish-puffball-explosion of a frame, and the oh-so-domestic blue gingham fancy end papers.
• J'adore you for enlightening me on the finer points of how to hog-wrestle a comforter into the dutch oven of a duvet, making me laugh so hard I nearly shart myself, and for bringing "shart" into my lexicon to replace the much cruder terms I normally use.
• Me likey you for sharing the contents of your Drawer of Shame and Cabinet of Shame and making me feel much less ashamed of my junk drawers/cabinets. (I noticed you didn't diss Carrie Bradshaw once in this book, so I felt safe in using the "me likey" Carrie-ism.)
• I totally dig that you found your X-factor in going all Team Disaster Prepper. BTW, I will totally eschew my vegetarian ways and find you in the Chicago 'burbs to feast on sardines and human-grade dog food stew when the zombie apocalypse comes, so set an extra place!
• I am enamored by your willingness to bare all when it comes to your failings, even the gozillion-dollar "easy" toffee incident, and find a way to laugh about it (even if it means your friends may end up with tire-fire toffee before they get it right).
• I applaud you for facing your loathe of Halloween (which I totally share, except for the free pass to eat candy like there's no tomorrow!) and turning it into a glitterfied Pumpkin Palooza and drunkety-drunk-drunk fest. (Sorry, I couldn't help but throw in one more Carrie-ism!) You've given me a whole new outlook on Halloween!
• I ♥ you for sharing your scrapbook pix to give me a visual of your escapades and so I can better get to know you, Fletch, Maisy, Loki, Libby, Hambone, the Thundercats, and the New Girls (hope I didn't leave anyone out). (Plus, now I know what your house looks like so I can find you when the big one hits! And may I add, Fletch is hubba hubba!!) 
• Most of all, I love you for sharing the other Miss M's Tao, which I won't mention here and be a spoiler but I have already written on a Post-it and is hanging from my bulletin board as a daily reminder. IT ROCKS!!

   Jen, I will admit, I've never been a big Martha Stewart fan. In fact, hearing her "It's a good thing" mantra was like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. But you've made me appreciate the finer points of her way of LIVING, and I will never regard Martha with disrespect again. I promise! I just have one request in return -- please don't let your next memoir be "The Opus of Oprah." I literally live for your next memoir to be published, BUT I DON'T DO OPRAH. Thanks!
   
   Have I got you intrigued about "The TAO of MARTHA"? Good! Get your copy today and get your laugh on!!