So, for those of you who know me from way back when, you will remember that when I started dating in high school. My father, ever the accomplished Do-It-Yourself-er (understatement of the year since he built our house etc) decided to take up small scale taxidermy as a hobby. In Garden Grove, Orange County, Southern California. If you aren’t familiar with this area, think 70s tract homes, kids playing in each others yards, elderly people who’ve known you your whole life, and a dearth of say, nature, or hunting, or you know anything that would make this new hobby seem normal. The thing is, to me at least it didn’t seem that weird. My dad had always hunted and I grew up learning to shoot in our backyard and on the family property in Arkansas. My boyfriend at the time was fairly certain it was my fathers version of cleaning a shotgun whenever he came over, only more intense. I think the jury is out, I mean I think it was possibly a fortuitously timed hobby that had the bonus for my Dad of serious intimidation.

Jenny Lawson’s husband is a hell of a lot braver than my ex-boyfriend was. And I have to say that her way of looking at things is very much a laugh or I’m going to lose it (I may also be laughing while I lose it) perspective. I admire her willingness to share her struggles spiced with humor and after reading a few pages of the first book I immediately ordered everything else she’s written. Fair warning, you will be horrified and choking on laughter a lot of the book so space your drinks intentionally. I recommend wine.