Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut: Essays and Observations From An Odd Mom Out

By Jill Kargman

The star of Bravo’s new comedy Odd Mom Out and author of The Ex Mrs. Hedgefund and Wolves in Chic Clothing firmly believes in Woody Allen’s magical math equation: Comedy = Tragedy + Time. Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut is a delightful collection of essays and observations based on Jill Kargman’s family, her phobias (vans, mimes, clowns), and her ability to use humor as a tool to get past life’s obstacles, making the fun times funnier and the tough times bearable. Fans of David Sedaris, Sloane Crosley, and Nora Ephron will rejoice, howl, and sympathize.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9780062042279

Jill Kargman

Jill Kargman is the New York Times bestselling author of nine books, including The Right Address, Wolves in Chic Clothing, Momzillas, and The Ex-Mrs. Hedgefund. Her latest effort is a nationally bestselling book of essays, Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut. She is also a featured writer for Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Town & Country, and Elle, and a copywriter for her greeting card company, Jill Kargman Etceteras.

Book preview

Introduction

The irony is I fucking hate coconut. As in full vomitorious spine chills just thinking about its nasty texture, to say nothing of the chunder-taunting scent that conjures peroxide-y sluts smearing their ’kini cleaves with Panama Jack tanfastic oil. I might even go so far as to say I don’t even trust people who like coconut. But still, despite nightmarish Hawaiian Tropic/Girls Gone Wild visions and hellacious flashbacks of a bearded Tom Hanks looking not unlike the twentieth hijacker eating coconuts on that island, if I had to identify myself with one advertising campaign, it would be the eighties jingle of Mounds and Almond Joy. Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t.

For twenty-five years, my father worked for Doyle Dane Bernbach, the legendary Madison Avenue advertising agency that was proto–Don Draper, complete with the same martini lunches and genius minds, but the Jewy Jewstein version. When most peeps see commercials, they get up to pee, get another soda, or comment on the program that was just interrupted. Yeah, no. Not in our house. Be quiet, my dad would instruct us through the first decade of my childhood. Guys, shhhh, please, the commercials are on.

He was obsessed, so we were obsessed. Copywriting. Casting. Execution. We raved about great ads and rolled our eyes over the shitty ones. I still do (Dr. Scholl’s Ya Gellin’, anyone?). I started to think of individuals in terms of campaigns. The blow job queen was Bounty (The Quicker Picker-Upper), the geeks who got hazed in high school were Timex (Takes a Licking and Keeps on Ticking), the virginal church mouse was Ivory soap (99.44% Pure), the hot guy I had a crush on was Bell telephone (Reach Out and Touch Someone—i.e., me).

My brother and I grew up so attuned to branding and media images that when it came time to write my college essay, to, in fact, brand myself, I chose to do so with a slogan. At the time, fall of 1991, HBO’s tagline was Simply the Best. AT&T’s was The Right Choice. I could have kissed ass and picked one of those and sold myself in a shining halo of light as the girl upon whose blessed head they should bestow admission. But I am a firm believer in truth in advertising. So while I could have tooted my horn and painted myself as my public persona of well-rounded student, a capella singer, newspaper editor, big brag sheet blah blah blah, the reality was—and still is—that I’m a weirdo. I’m inappropriate. I laugh when I’m not supposed to (actress in a play accidentally falling off the stage, funerals), and I peed my pants a little bit when my poor French waiter tried his damndest to recite the made in de haus ice cream flavors as bitch and apricunt. I laugh all day long, pretty much. I can’t not laugh. Humor has been the buoy that keeps my entire family afloat.

My dad did stand-up comedy to put himself through business school and he instilled in us a value system based on good times and cackles aplenty. Not the let’s-dance-on-tables-and-snort-lines-of-coke type of good times, but let’s laugh our asses off if we can. We’re all gonna be dead in eighty years or less, and the ones who live the best obviously aren’t the ones with the most money or most successful careers; they’re the ones who laugh the most. Who are the most nutty. Not as in wack-job serial killer who makes suits out of fat people, but as in the right kind of bonkers. The goofy kind. The type who giggles and guffaws, even in tricky times.

My idol, Woody Allen, once had a character in one of his films hatch a formula I value above anything Einstein could have cracked: Comedy = Tragedy + Time.

Brilliant, right? The bigger the tragedy, the more time is needed, obviously (remember when everyone went shithouse when the New York Post used H’caust in a headline to abbreviate Holocaust?!). And obviously big tragedies can’t ever become comedic. The little blind panhandling child in Slumdog Millionaire won’t sit around at age ninety-two and be like, "Ha, wasn’t that so funny how those beggar pimps poured acid in my retinas?" But in general, my 20/20 hindsight has made me, eventually, absolutely howl at anything on the spectrum, from the ordinary, Seinfeldian banal (That’s gold, Jerry, gold!) to situations that were, at the time, unbearable. Granted, my life is a slice of cheesecake relative to what some endure (Slumdog Millionaire chemically burnt eyeballs et al.); I was hardly shaking a cup on the corner, I’ve never buried parents, and my New Yorker frenzied stress of being a working mom of three was always relative. But I did get cancer at thirty-five. And the surgery gave me scars that make me look not unlike stitched-up Sally from Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. But, honestly, in comparison to some past romantic breakups and other previous life drama, the C-word was nada mucho. (BTW, the C-word used to be not cunt but cobbler, a term I detest because it’s a fruit dessert and someone who fixes shoes; go figure.) 001_Jill.tif

Because I’ve trained myself to use nuttiness as a coping mechanism, the surgeons at Sloan-Kettering were quasi-uncomfy with my O.R. Tumor Humor (So am I totally gonna be Sinéad O’Kargman or what?). But when I e-mailed my friends updates and wisecracks about my wheelchair drag racing, they all said they were happy to see I was still joking around. That I was still myself, still a nut. I think in my little abacus of smiles, I’m racking up more than most. I’m hoping that anyone who may be in a quagmire might recognize themselves in some of these bizarre adventures and know that, in time, as St. Woody of Allen said, they will be mined for comedy. More than comedy. Gold, Jerry, gold.

JK.tif

1

GlosCT.tif

after party: I do not know what this is. Must be in PJs and ’zontal by Jon Stewart or eyelids are at half-mast and beeyotch takes on new meaning.

food baby: When you eat such a huge meal you look pregnant—but instead of the tenant being a fetus, it’s eggplant Parm.

Frederica Bimmel: The size-14 murder victim whose skin Buffalo Bill fashions into a suit in The Silence of the Lambs. As in: OMG, I can’t believe we ate those cheese fries at that hour; I’m Frederica Bimmel.

godfathering: Having heavy days of your period, i.e., blood everywhere. As in: We can have sex tonight, but I’m totally godfathering so the bedsheet will make the Law & Order sound when we finish.

jam-jim: Ladino word my mother uses to mean the sound in a mosque, i.e., silence. For example: We went to this new restaurant that was supposed to be happenin’ but when we went in, it was totally jam-jim.

kielbasa fingers: When you chow too much MSG and your rings are cutting off circulation. For instance: OMG, we totally feasted at China Fun and this morning I have total kielbasa fingers. Synonym: soy-raped.

maror: Bitter herb in Passover Seder but used colloquially, as in, That girl is always complaining; why is she so fucking maror?

matando moshcas: Ladino expression: killing flies, like when someone has nothing to do. E.g.: Poor department stores in this economic crisis! I walked into Bendel’s and the salespeople were matando moshcas!

quahog: Giant North Atlantic clam, i.e., megabitch. That girl always looks like she just sucked a lemon; I hear she’s a total quahog.

Sistine baby: A little nugget so cute s/he looks chiseled off an Italian frescoed ceiling.

Spitzering: Bangin’ hos. Oh, sorry, courtesans. Like, They seem like a really cute couple but I hear he’s totally Spitzering.

tramp stamp: Tattoo just above your ass crack.

wait up, guys: A certain type of social climber whose identity is wrapped up in running with those s/he deems popular. As in: Wait up, guys, what’re you doing? Oh, after party at the Boom Boom Room? Wait up!

WORDS I WANT TO BRING BACK INTO HEAVY ROTATION

crummy: I never knew it was spelled with two m’s and not like crumby, like something that instantly disintegrated into crumbs. But no, it’s crummy. And I love it. See lousy.

golly: I use OMG a lot but now that it’s been co-opted by Miley and the gang, I want to revert to the Pollyanna version. Especially after I e-mailed my mom OMFG and she was unpleased.

lousy: My dad always says it when food tastes like shit and I think it’s really ol’ school and funny.

rascal: Mischief without evil. Bad kids today seem like they’re lighting shit on fire.

robber: I feel like kids today don’t fear robbers the way my brother and I did, seventies-style, like the Hamburglar with the Zorro mask and shit.

Words I Want to Never Hear Again

cobbler: See above.

custard: Dunno why, just sounds mucusy. I’m big on texture.

guesstimate: My friend Lisa’s personal cheese-grater-to-the-ear, and as with things that irk close friends, it’s contagious. Fuck guesstimate. You can totally see the person who came up with it feeling so clever, like whoever invented Hotlanta. Which isn’t even clever ’cause it doesn’t rhyme! I would like to rename it Fatlanta.

I have a salmon special for $19.95: Double whammy. I

Reviews for Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut

[miyurose_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I didn’t particularly care for this, but it was short so it wasn’t too painful. It’s more a collection of essays than a memoir, but that’s not really its problem either. I think the tone was just a little too rough for me. Crudeness and profanity really don’t bother me, but this just felt like she was looking for attention. I wasn’t familiar with Kargman before this, so perhaps it’s not the best introduction to her voice. The book definitely had its funny moments, but the other stuff just overshadows it.

[verbafacio · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Parts of this book were ok, and I can see why I thought (and LT's algorithm thought) it would be a good choice for me. Kargman talks about city life, pregnancy, and parenting -- all topics close to my heart, and theoretically fodder for some hilarious commentary. Unfortunately, this one just didn't do it for me. The author makes a few fat jokes too many to be considered light and funny, and generally her tone comes across more snide than broadly amusing.

[cinnamonowl_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book comes with a disclaimer (from me)- if you are uncomfortable reading books with strong sometimes crude language and humor, this book is not for you. And I realize that is more of a warning than a disclaimer. Kargman is hysterically funny to me, but I know that not everyone enjoys reading certain words or about certain situations. So I want to put that out there.Kargman's book made me laugh out loud - I mentioned on another post that I had to put this book down until my husband got home, just so I could share the funny parts with him. I am sure he thought I was a nut, amid my giggles, trying to read the sentence. But he is used to it. Her hatred of Nellie Oleson almost had me hyperventilating. I was a huge Little House fan, and I really disliked Nellie too. And her descriptions of momzillas, I feel I have met those women, and yes, they are frightening. There are a few parts that are not meant to be funny, but reflective, such as the chapter where Kargman writes a letter to her apartment, which was sort of like her cocoon for a bit, and gave her the space to grow and change; but the chapter where she talks about how vanity saves her life is my favorite. Her never give up, I am going to get what I want attitude regarding botox led her to a startling discovery, that really did save her life. I loved this book, although I do not recommend it for everyone.

[nightprose · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Jill Kargman has put together a collection of very funny and unique essays. Her topics of observations range from family and motherhood to things in her basic daily life.Admittedly, Jill has a signature slang-style of speaking/writing. However, she is so entertaining that you can overlook it. She packs quite a bit of humor into a small and easily readable book.This is a book that you will read and probably pass along to a BFF for a chuckle, as well. Enjoy!

[forsix · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I love to laugh. Really, doesn't everyone? I looked forward to reading Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut so I could laughing my way through these essays and observations. I was expecting good writing tinged with humor and wit. I'm pleased to say I got that. This is the perfect little book to carry about in your purse or backpack, the kind you take out when you are waiting in line or have a few minutes to yourself or need a good laugh. Ms. Kargman covered a variety of topics from her kids to marriage to fears. I loved her list of the times her kids embarrassed her. Her adventures in the apartment with the brothel and frat boy neighbors left me in stitches. I also enjoyed the way she infused pop culture into almost each and every page. I loved that she's a real New Yorker.What I didn't expect was how mean Ms. Kargman came across. Perhaps mean is too harsh, blunt is more like it. This isn't a PG read. It's laced with cursing and semi-obscene humorous little drawings. It might make you blush a little, but it's worth it. You'll laugh too.

[agirlandherbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Finally, a female writer who curses as much as I do (the F word is freely batted about), hates Don Henley for a very good reason, and fears clowns. Jill Kargman is a funny, funny woman who minces no words about her struggles growing up (a teacher accused her of making up her favorite smell), the succession of bad babysitters she and her brother endured (her mother caught one porking the doorman) and the kickass attitudes of her kids (her older daughter chose to slither down the fireman's pole rather than the slide during preschool graduation "like a total badass"). Kargman loves her parents, brother, husband and kids, but she doesn't gloss over the bad stuff. She remembers her first awful apartment, an unforgiveably rude brush-off from Don Henley (an egomaniac with a stick up his ass) and living with a newborn in an apartment that was once a bordello ("Hi, the password is four-one-one"). She remembers trying to use tampons rather than pads ("I felt like I was being raped by Raggedy Andy's cotton cock") and makes no apologies for hating clowns. In short, she's an easy gal to love.

[stephivist · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This was just an okay book for me. Like some of the other reviewers, I found the use of slang tiring—it made it seem like the author was just trying too hard. I did enjoy several of the essays though. So overall, I don’t feel like I wasted my time reading this, but I probably wouldn’t pick it up again.

[tammychristine · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I read this book a while back and I'm still unsure how to review it. My favorite essay was "Babysitters form Hizznell". It was very funny, due more to the situations than the telling of the tale. The use of slang seemed inconsistent. But she really lost me on "Spinagogue" and "Thirty -four and Holding", they were both boring. She is not cooler that Don Henley and who doesn't find clowns and a certain type of vans creepy?!?!

[joemmama · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Jill Kargman has written a funny, ironic book that says what we think, but do not say. The essays cover everything from mice in her apartment to becoming a "Spinning" addict. Funny as hell, I think she is a very good writer. Dealing with the competetive "Momzillas" of Manhattan with 3 kids of her own to contend with, as well, she maintains her sense of humor and makes us laugh with her.Kargman is afraid of vans and clowns (I can relate-thank you Stephen King). She writes about her va-jay jay, again I can relate, and just the everyday things that can make you nuts.So whether you like your candy with nuts or just the coconut, I recommend this book. It is fun, ironic and irreverent. Enjoy!

[bookgirljen · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a fun and quick read, with personal stories in the vein of Laurie Notaro and Jen Lancaster, two of my favorite authors. And as a mom of 3 kids, I could definitely identify with many of these essays, several of which made me laugh out loud. However, as many of the earlier reviewers have mentioned, the constant use of slang became really annoying. Curse words don't bother me at all. But, as a grown woman, why was the author trying to speak like a teenager? It wasn't cute, and it quickly became not funny. Aiight? Vom? Natch? Froke? I felt like I was reading essays from "Seventeen" magazine.

[litendeavors · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Some of us mommies don't fit in with the others. We paint our nails black, or wear converse. We say inappropriate things or don't participate in fundraisers. Sometimes we roll our eyes at school administrators or cut in the car line. You would think we'd have learned by now how to fit in a little more. How to keep our mouths closed from time to time. How to be an adult. For those of you who rail against conformity, I recommend you read this book: Jill Kargman's Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut: Essays and Observations. You will laugh. You will be scandalized. You might look over your shoulder a time or two, hoping no one sees what the fuss is about. You will cover your mouth in horror. And then you will laugh again. Kargman tells you just why she has a deep aversion to clowns. And you will never hire one for your child's birthday party again. She will let you glimpse a day in the life of the momzillas that will have you swear against overstructured schedules and timelines. She will even give you a list of vocab words she wants to see in heavy rotation again. She will tell you why she's a gay man trapped in a woman's body (funniest chapter in the book!) And there are sweet chapters in here as well: one devoted to her apartment, which saw her through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the transitional. We learn how Kargman's vanity saves her life. And even funnier, how Jill's daughter is learning to be a bad-ass like her mom...At one point, Jill's daughter gets in trouble at school:"At pickup one day when Sadie was three, the teachers, stifling a smile, informed me that my little smocked-dress-wearing daughter said the F word.Mildly mortified, I asked for more details.'Well,' said the teacher, 'Charlie told her that her dress was hideous and she told him to fuck off.''Oh, okay, well, she used it in the right context then!' was my reply."I'm not going to lie. I've instructed my girls to say/do things that might land them in detention one day. But at least the little boy picking on her in the bus will learn his lesson. There are some downsides: the book is dedicated to Woody Allen, whose name makes me break out into a nauseatingly cold sweat. That's a personal thing, I guess: I'm not a big fan of Woody Allen or the Soon Yi debacle. Second, the author tries a little too hard to sound trendy and blase that sometimes it seems like you're watching a bad episode of Will and Grace. It's rare, but it does happen. Other than that, I enjoyed the book and would recommend it to any woman who doesn't quite fit it in with the other perfect mommies.

[lesliecp · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I read this book in an afternoon. It's a quick, light read that will keep you laughing. For me, however, the book had one fatal flaw. I found the use of slang and text message expressions really irritating to the point where I wanted to throw the book across the room. Jill Kargman is funny without having to resort to gimmicks and sloppy writing.

[vasquirrel · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Only a few essays in, I almost put this book down and walked away. As someone who, I must point out, was never afraid to employ colorful language (read, the F-bomb), I really felt that Kargman was trying to shock the reader with how "hip" and in-your-face she could be. But, I weathered on and started to think she really has something unique to say, and the majority of her offerings here are very well written. Not too many cliche setups, either. All in all -- a decent quick read.

[metermaid1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Sometimes I Feel Like A Nut, is filled with the hilarious musings of Jill Kargman. I often found myself laughing out loud and having to read passages to others so that they could share in the laughter with me. Kargman writes in a stream-of-consciousness style that makes for highly entertaining reading. Recommended to anyone looking for a quick and funny read.

[icedream_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love a book that makes me laugh out loud and this one really delivers. Jill Kargman's essay's belong up there with other favorites such as Laurie Notaro and Jen Lancaster. My only concern for readers is that they aren't offended by profanity and that they can recognize sarcasm and apprciate it. I wish the book was twice as long and hope Kargman brings us another collection and soon!

[cdianek · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut is razor-sharp, clever, and sometimes downright hysterical group of essays from Jill Kargman. She drives by and grabs hold of topics like childhood babysitters, her in-laws, her family and her illness. In all of them, through the humor, you can also see some profound thinking, and some sweetness where it's not expected. Her ode to one of her homes was, while hysterically profound and clever, also very well done.I didn't mind the profanity - which was prolific - at all; however I was slightly put-off by the textspeak and the slang used. As always in this case, that says more about me than its user, but it did kind of pull me out of the stories at times. Nevertheless, this was a very fast read - I read it in a single half-shift on a slow night, and well worth holding onto to revisit later, which I rarely do. Well done.

[matamgirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I found the chapter on the neurotic babysitters to be one of the funniest things I've read in a long time. Also the competitive child-rearing is something that a lot of my friends with children complain about. Overall this was very amusing.

[camellia1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was an excellent book. I just had a new baby, and Kargman's short, funny essays were perfect for reading during early morning feedings. There were only two problems: sometimes I laughed so much I woke up the baby as she was falling back asleep, and the book was too short - it only lasted for a couple of nights. My favorite essays were the ones where she described life as a mother, but all of them were worth reading.

[amaryann21 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Jill Kargman is funny, sarcastic and uses her wit like a razor. I flew through this small collection of essays, feeling at times there was a little too much dark to make this book a success. The last story about spinning class, seemingly intended to be uplifting, ended too abruptly for me, and the tone was too scattered. I was left feeling like Kargman hasn't completely found her voice yet.

[lisama321 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really enjoyed this book. A short collection of essays, Kargman shares tales from her childhood to the present in a witty, but slightly off-color essays. If you are easily offended by tough language and descriptive images, this may not be the book for you. I, however, enjoy that and was really humored by this book. Full of pop culture references and self-deprecation, Kargman writes in a style similar to Jen Lancaster, another memoir writer. I wish this book could have been longer!

[rastaphrog · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a GREAT book! Filled with essays dealing with her life from her childhood to the present, Jill looks at her life in one of the best ways someone can, with humor! I was laughing so often that I had to put the book down a few times. Jills drawings to accompany some of the essays make the words on the page even better.Be forewarned tho, she uses some "salty" language, net speak, and abbreviations that would seem more suitable to a teenager than a woman her age. I've seen other reviews that complained about that, but I personally found it made the book more enjoyable.

[goldnyght · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Wow. I would love to say I was bowled over by the humor in this book, but really I was just amazed at the amount of profanity and the usage of teen-like slang. The stories underneath were good, but I had a hard time getting past a woman who is presumably in her 30s at least dropping F bombs at least twice a paragraph (among other obscenities) and using such lovely language as "Natch" (meaning "naturally").

[bookangel_a · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I requested a review copy of this book because I love essays, I love humor writing, and the author shares my terror of clowns. Jill Kargman is a busy wife, mother, and writer who lives in New York City. In these essays, she discusses (among other things) babysitters, tiny apartments with rats, getting cancer, giving birth, blush-inducing motherhood moments, her love of gasoline smell, bad teachers, and the above mentioned fear of clowns. Oh, and did I mention she includes her own sketches?While in school, she did not fit in with the pretty, popular girls, which she discusses in the essay "Wednesday Addams in Barbietown". Awesome title.This woman is funny and wacky and she reminds me of someone who would be fun to hang out with. However, her language got on my nerves. First of all, there's a lot of profanity in this book. Do not read this if that bothers you. Also, she uses words that seem...immature. For example: suh-in'('something'), beyotch, text message abbreviations like OMG, or worse, OMMFG. I did not expect this from a writer of Ms. Kargman's caliber, and I found it 'grating' at times throughout this book.

[librarygrrrl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Kargman is utterly hysterical in this collection of essays. As a non-Jewish, non-New Yorker, I admit to being a little lost when she made assumptions about her readers' knowledge of both topics. That said, I still laughed out loud when reading this. Many times. Thumbs up!

[acornell_13 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

We don't laugh as much as we used to. Everything seems so serious. The right hates the left; the left hates the right. The media hates everyone and Seinfeld hasn't been on the air in 10 years. I received Jill Kargman's new book "Sometimes you Feel lime a Nut" and raced through it. Parts are laugh out loud funny, parts are funny because it could totally happen to you, and every chapter reminded me of someone I knew. It was a generally chronologically organized book, almost memoirish in a way. She writes of her babysitters and her high school days. She talks about her first job and apartment and meeting her husband. I totally loved the parts about momzillas (we have them in Indiana too) and the fantastic-weird seder she attended in Aspen. I think the real complaint is that it felt like there could have been more, more, more. It was such a fast read, I feel like i was just beginning to settle in an enjoy Ms Kargman's voice when it was all over.I had never heard of her before this little book, now I see that she has quite a few other works out there. I will enjoy exploring those as well. If you need a laugh or two and have an evening to spare, this is your book. (She gets a PG-13 for language--if that sort of thing bothers you, consider yourself warned.)

[bearette24 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I had some trepidation about this book because Jill Kargman has only written fiction before, and I didn't know if her foray into nonfic would work. It did. She writes very funny essays about her family's bad luck with babysitters, her crummy one-bedroom apartment (post break-up), her struggles with Momzillas (which also sparked the idea for her novel), a Passover that was truly not like any other, and spin class. Some may find her style to be TMI, but if you enjoyed her other books, you will find this funny and endearing as well.