42
I mean, unless “contemptible” is not the new black.
43
And what of my shoes?!
44
Yeah, yeah; yuck it up.
45
Except for Tracey and Holly, stupid, naturally gorgeous bitches with chiseled cheekbones and flawless skin.
46
Jen’s Life Lesson #1240: Calling your father’s gourmet, handcrafted burgers a “Ray-Kroc-of-Shit” will get you grounded, even if you’re twenty-one years old.
47
What, like you’ve never composed a sonnet about potato cakes?
48
No, I don’t know why I’ve never yet been on The Price Is Right.
49
Surely there is a carnival somewhere dying for a person with my kind of skill.
50
To fully disclose, I also got my hair colored with this money. I apologize for nothing.
51
Plus, no one was particularly nice, so I had to bite my tongue to not ask how things were going on Middle-earth and if anyone had been back to the Shire lately.
52
Other personal heroes include Elle Woods, Patsy and Edina, and Lucille Bluth, of course.
53
I swear by Crest’s Vivid White Night Effects toothpaste.
54
Hey, Hollywood? You know who thinks skeletons are sexy? Necrophiliacs, that’s who.
55
This was back when I felt I deserved a three-carat princess-cut ring from Tiffany, so I also researched places where Fletch could sell a kidney in order to afford it.
56
Wouldn’t this be a great place to have an informative footnote about what ketosis is?
57
According to the 1972 version of this diet, which is the book I am using. A later version modifies these rules and restricts the liberal application of stuff like butter, which sounds a lot less fun.
58
Prior to his post-Swingers bloat, of course.
59
Yet another Simpsons quote, this time from episode 65, season 4, “Itchy & Scratchy: The Movie.” Not the Best Episode Ever, but from the Conan O’Brien years, so still pretty damned good.
60
A Hostess Twinkie and Ding Dong paired in a sandwich of nerve-calming decadence. (Basically it’s homemade Prozac.)
61
Nah, probably not.
62
Yeah, I know selling my recumbent bike was a bad idea. Thanks for not mentioning it sooner.
63
Who knew my pelvis had a floor? Although I think this has something to do with the Kegels.
64
For those unfamiliar with Chicago’s airports, one could walk between them if necessary. Also, how do you run out of gas? Shouldn’t that be the first thing the pilot checks once the doors are closed?
65
BTW, did you ever notice when you say you’re a bad flier, everyone thinks this is the perfect time to tell you about all of their flying traumas? Well, guess what? These stories don’t help.
66
But on the bright side, at least I’m temporarily distracted from visions of planes falling out of the sky.
67
I studied Italian for years and know for a fact that “hospitaliano” isn’t a real word.
68
Fletch’s army buddy Joel, previously known as Hurricane Joel for his propensity to speak in capital letters, is possibly the worst beer snob to ever walk the earth. Every time I drink a Miller High Life in front of him, a piece of his soul dies.
69
I would never, ever help terrorists, but I can say that if they believe the finest wedge of Whole Foods Gruyère is their key to unlocking American military secrets, they’re going to be sorely disappointed.
70
Something tells me that Fletch and I would be terrible at an intervention—like we’d show up with wine or something.
71
Oh, yes; in my book Bitter Is the New Black. Pick up your copy today!
72
Read: all.
73
But I mastered all fifty levels!
74
Am kind of a nerd that way.
75
So maybe three times in a week doesn’t sound like that much. But it’s three times more than I worked out in all of 2004.
76
Plus, I appreciate working out with the confidence that Tone-Lōc and Marky Mark will never make me cry in the weight room.
77
I also think “ions” and “electrolytes” are scams.
78
I heart Yul.
79
Todd Oldham, you are not the new Tim Gunn.
80
Not really helping my case much, am I?
81
Wait; don’t answer that.
82
I have a disorder I call False Fletcher Syndrome. Somehow I think every tall guy at the store is my husband and I end up throwing cereal into a lot of strangers’ carts. I suspect it’s my brain’s reaction to all those trans fats under one roof.
83
Meaning the conversation existed at all. You’d think someone who dropped as many F bombs as I do would be comfortable with intercourse discourse. You would be wrong.
84
To be fair, they’re probably not housing my stuff next to Mark Twain’s. But, still . . .
85
Again, as described in the bestselling Bitter Is the New Black. Have you purchased your copy yet? Makes a great gift!
86
I don’t dare complain to anyone about my new workout schedule because they’d be all, “Oh, poor you, getting paid to do the kind of thing the rest of us have to squeeze into the limited time we have when not at work. We should throw you a parade, for you are a hero.”
87
Vanilla Ice’s movie that was too cheesy even for my liking.
88
My back fat is April fresh!
89
And yes, I became familiar with Gorillaz because of that iPod commercial. Shut up.
90
I bet he’d never shove his dirty wedding dress in a garbage bag and stuff it on a shelf in the back of his closet for five years until he just now remembered he should probably get it cleaned.
91
By Annabelle Robertson: The Southern Girl’s Guide to Surviving the Newlywed Years: How to Stay Sane Once You’ve Caught Your Man.
92
The city’s nonemergency line.
93
Jen’s Life Lesson #7843: No beer tastes as good as forbidden beer.
94
I do not have too many Baccarat crystal glasses in my house. Just every other kind.
95
My favorite story is when she disciplined her all-male classes by making them watch her wedding video. I can’t recall what prompted this punishment, but they never did it again. Apparently it was so effective, Wendy could just open the drawer where she kept the tape and everyone would immediately fall in line.
96
Sometimes I worry about my influence leeching into Angie’s life.
97
On the days I get the car.
98
For the most part, except when I declare myself on vacation from my diet.
99
Beavis and Butthead reference. Ten points if you caught it.
100
I will neither confirm nor deny this nasty rumor.
101
Also, many people do not wash their plates and silverware before donating them. To say I was appalled at the idea of being stabbed with a dirty steak knife would be an understatement.
102
And seventeen sangrias.
103
Which was more often than not.
104
Trademark pending.
105
Shit; what if they’re watching?
106
Which, disappointingly,
is not green.
107
Hint—talk to the person talking to you.
108
How glad am I to have set both our TiVos for this auspicious occasion?
109
I think. I hope?
110
Why, self? Why?
111
Both my book signings go well this week. I’d like to say it’s because the more I have, the better I get, and this is the job I’m really meant to do. The more likely explanation is that I drank wine beforehand.
112
Only most of the time. Seriously, sometimes we leave at six thirty a.m. What are we, farmers?
113
Used to laugh at my mom for doing this before I realized it was hereditary.
114
What kind of dog hates her yard? A very, very spoiled one.
115
Or possibly because the big TV’s up there.
116
I’m Not the New Me by the lovely and talented Wendy (not my thrift buddy) McClure. Buy now!
117
And they speak with a lot of exclamation points, too.
118
Fine; Old Jen isn’t quite dead yet.
119
Alone; no groups of angry chicks crying about birthday cake here.
120
Wikipedia defines these as tiny bite-sized morsels served before the hors d’oeuvres or first course. And yes, I’ve watched way too much Top Chef.
121
Even though I’d happily suck down a whole canister with a straw at the moment.
122
In unlimited amounts.
123
Too bad I can’t go all Jim Halpert on her and pop the damn thing with some scissors.
124
After a hefty down payment.
125
Meaning she didn’t find me funny.
126
I suspect Maggie may be avoiding me.
127
FYI? It’s not.
128
Also known as book signings.
129
That’s six steps on the pedometer I’m not going to purchase.
130
I don’t mean to get all religious here, but I’m pretty sure key lime martinis (with a graham-cracker-and-sugar rim) are proof that Jesus loves us.
131
Tax deductible, of course.
132
Key lime martinis are a fruit, yes?
133
Obviously my preferred plan.
134
Sexy! As in "not.”
135
I may not be athletically coordinated, but I’m certainly a gold medalist when it comes to color coordination.
136
This is also why he won’t order chicken in a restaurant or buy his own hair gel.
137
Also, the Viet Cong were the bad guys. Yay me and my poli sci degree!
138
Not that I’ve been invited to any Edgartown soirees. But if I am, I will be ready.
139
Wait; am I the only person not in a training bra who still has to do this?
140
Although it may have something to do with all the snakes.
141
I told him if we got a suburban home with a game room, the only game I’d play would be Russian roulette.
142
What with my parents’ children’s propensity for being assholes and all.
143
Shut up. That’s why we chlorinated the water.
144
I take some comfort in knowing I left enough of myself in that water for my legacy to swim on forever. Or until they drain it.
145
And I will tear up when Bill Pullman does his speech at the airfield, like I do every single time.
146
You were expecting a love scene? From me, who wears a bathing suit in a hotel bathroom Jacuzzi and from the man who thinks a pooper-scooper is a romantic birthday present? Your breath? Don’t hold it.
147
Jen-point quiz: Guess what movie this line comes from.
148
And yet if you asked me who the Illinois state senators are, I would have no idea.
149
A roasted ear of corn on the cob, covered in mayo, lemon juice, and spices. Used to think they were disgusting . . . until I had one.
150
Cute for the first month. Now it’s getting on my nerves.
151
If I’m dieting, every creature in this house is dieting.
152
Yes! My Target stocks booze! How great is that?
153
Weight Watchers’ numerical system of factoring in fat, calories, and fiber.
154
Target liquor may have been involved.
155
Next time, jackass. Next time.
156
At least not in this decade. Recently we were invited to a party and the invitation said we should dress like we did in the eighties. But that would imply I ever stopped.
157
The only constant in our world is, the dogs will always be slightly naughty and we can’t have nice things.
158
That number currently being zero.
159
Fine; maybe it’s common sense. But if it were so common, would the diet industry gross billions each year?
160
So that’s where the closet business comes from.
161
Oh, great. Now I’m so aggravated I’ve turned into a freaking pirate.
162
I am sorely tempted to get my own whistle so I can start beaching other 162I am sorely tempted to get my own whistle so I can start beaching other patrons. If my hair gets splashed one more time, fists will be thrown.
163
Orange-death flavored!
164
But you can get them at your favorite bookseller for $14 US.
165
If Mayor Daley ever gets his own talk show, I’m totally watching it.
166
I’m starting to get busy writing and I can’t keep up with the housework.
167
In this particular instance.
168
See again “$20: My Pride.”
169
A rant for another day.
170
That is, if you walked into Ups ’N Downs. In 1987.
171
According to FBI.gov. Hey! Look at this! A real footnote. I rule!
172
Made with two-percent milk, it’s only four Weight Watchers points.
173
The same one—I told you I’d carry it forever.
174
Comin’ down, man.
175
I did not buy a new purse there, but it’s nice to know there’s a discount option.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
CHAPTER ONE - Like I Haven’t Heard That Before
CHAPTER TWO - Pack Your Knives and Go, Mom
CHAPTER THREE - Talking (Terrible) Turkey
CHAPTER FOUR - Two Fat People Admit Defeat
CHAPTER FIVE - Lookin’ Good and Feelin’ Fine? Not So Much
CHAPTER SIX - Shame con Queso
CHAPTER SEVEN - I Wish I Could Quit You, Olive Garden
CHAPTER EIGHT - Gentlemen, Start Your Cheesecakes
CHAPTER NINE - It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
CHAPTER TEN - Careful What You Wish For
CHAPTER ELEVEN - I Like New York in June; How About You?
CHAPTER TWELVE - Less Talk-y, More Drive-y
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Reaching Critical (M)ass
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Baby Steps
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Metamorpha-Sissy
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Gym Dandy
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Et Tu, Valerie Bertinelli?<
br />
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Enough with the Cake Already; God!
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Swim It Out, Bitch
CHAPTER TWENTY - The N-a-k-e-d Truth
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - By the Numbers
Acknowledgements
Such a pretty fat: one narcissist's quest to discover if her life makes her ass look big Page 28
