jessi klein's hawt book

Initially I had zero interest in reading Jessie Klein's best-selling essay collection You’ll Grow Out Of It. This has nothing to do with Ms. Klein herself, and is only because published essay collections with cool covers threaten me, because I am a weak and jealous person. Also, despite desperately wanting to have written my own collection of best-selling essays with a cool vaguely 70ish cover, it's also, like, does the world really need another book of witty essays that have a comedic-with-a-tinge-of-darkness theme? (The answer is always YES OF COURSE IT DOES and please make room for mine, thank you very much.)

Anyhow, the other day, when I walked into our local library to return the scratched copy of Aladdin I’d borrowed (at this point I just tell myself that the librarians think I'm married to a dentist and have three kids because I'm always sweating and checking out things like Newsies with a fleece wrapped around my waist) there was Klein’s book, staring back at me, right from the fancy shelf of books they proudly display in the front that you can only borrow for 2 weeks cause they’re the books that are HAWT AS SHIT. I knew this was a sign. I had put that hawt shit on hold MONTHS ago and there had been so many people in front of me that I'd given up.  But, every once in awhile, they just pull a random copy and put it on the hawt shelf, and if you see it, it's sort of like winning the book lottery. (As you have probably noticed, I'm really into the library.)

So, I checked it out. I read it and it’s completely lovely, and just like the blurb on the cover promises, I now want to have a glass of wine with Jessi Klein, though I’d be a little worried she hated me, which, honestly, is part of her appeal.

I’m not a great reviewer of things. I swear, trying to explain exactly why you like a book or movie is harder than just straight up writing about the time, say, you got into an argument about Trump with your bikini waxer (still processing this, but I can say it was the least painful bikini wax I’ve ever had due to the fact that all the blood that is normally rushing to my massacred genitalia was now rushing to my how-the-hell-did-this-woman-vote-for-him??!?!?! head. I'm seriously considering going back for round two solely based on the fact that I was in a political blackout rage the entire time which caused me weirdly not to remember any pain??) But really, how does one describe why one likes something? PAGING A.O. SCOTT!!! I remember this teacher once in grad school who wouldn’t let us use the word “interesting” to talk about why something "was working for us." (Or maybe I just made that up, I can't remember.) Either way, the point is Klein’s book IS interesting! And funny. And also a few chapters made me burst into tears. Especially when her therapist left her that voicemail??! I mean, I'd like to watch that movie. The chapter about her porn habit and her sister's Disney destination wedding where also highlights (those are not in the same chapter...) and, though I'm not having kids anytime soon, I appreciated Klein's advice on all things baby-making, specifically to GET THE EPIDURAL.  (Her observations of horrendous doctors, as well as kind New Zealand principles are also amazing. As is the wedding dress chapter.)  Also the cover is just so pleasing to look at. Something about that hint of lavender in the pink shirt she's wearing? And that font? I hate how much cute covers please me, but Instagram has ruined all of us forever, so. Anyhow.

The one thing that stood out to me was her chapter about feeling kind of meh about her experience winning at the Emmy's and realizing she's still the same person with all the same baggage forever, and Ryan from the O.C. is that person too. (Just read the chapter.) It reminded me of that WTF episode where Jason Segal talks about the time he drank an entire case of rose alone in his house and realized fame would never make him feel happy. (For some reason I think about this a lot. Both when I'm craving rose and also when I have a bad hangover.) I feel like successful, famous people are frequently trying to spill the beans that they have the same problems and phobias and hangups as everyone else and also they're not immortal, and their families cause them pain and they still have to get bikini waxes too. I kind of buy it, and I guess that's a comforting thing? But also, I don't buy it either? Whatever, the book is great. I hope she writes another one. If you would like to look cute on the beach because you're holding a cute book and nodding along as you mumble under your breath to yourself and cackle as you adjust your wedgie, I suggest you pick one up from your local hawt shelf/Amazon evil empire today!