So who, you might ask is Jen Lancaster? Only the snarkiest, plus-sized writer to ever grace my bookshelves. Unfortunately, she is the leading cause of failure of my diet.
Maybe I should back up a bit. I enjoy reading, what one of my friends termed as "Saccharine, sarcastic chic lit." I enjoy reading others slightly absurd happenings in their day-to-day lives. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who is amused, amazed and befuddled by life. I actually got to meet Jen Lancaster at a book signing in Farmington Hills.
Going with Jenn G., Kate and Jackie, we bought her a cupcake and wine in a sweet if not slightly stalker gesture figuring she will need the sugar and liquid strength after a night of signing. We then go to the gourmet grocery next door and gorge ourselves on dumplings, sushi and kobe beef panini. Realizing that we just spent way too much time eating and we most likely will get crappy seats we rush next door. As we run through the doors we notice a driver and car pull up. Wait, driver and car? In Farmington Hills? OMG! It has to be her! In walks Jen Lancaster, the cool kid, the plumpy princess. Jackie and her talk and joke like old friends as Kate and Jenn presents her with our gifts (which she loved. Or at least pretended to.) I want to dazzle her with my wit and snarkiness too! I am funny and lovable! In a lull in the conversation, she moves as if to go inside, waiting for the people in charge to lead her to her podium. I'm going to miss my chance to wow her! Say something quick!
I squeak as I try to squeeze something out. She looks at me expectantly.
"We don't work here."
Bazinga!
Giving me the, "This is why I carry mace on my book tour look" she is rescued by a Border's employee, a snippy little thing who gives me a withering look. Hmmm. Note to self: Just keep quiet next time I see famous people.
So as I sit here today, reading another of her books, chortling to myself, (Oh Jen, you ARE so witty.) I get the munchies. Hush tummy you just got a very large fattening breakfast of eggs, sausage, deep fried potatoes, deep fried french toast, and deep fried bacon. But it's hard to ignore. I mean the chic is talking about food every other page. And alcohol. And I have a good two weeks of forced sobriety before I leave Magnus, teenagers, and Pam's Prohibition 2010.
And every page my munchie craving gets stronger and stronger. This is going to get ugly really soon.
I rummage through my shelves as she describes chocolate ganache and foie gras. She lives in Chicago for pete's sake. Damn. All I have is Ramen and Slim fast. Yuck. And chocolate. And bacon. Hmmmm...
If you are going to crash your diet, crash it big. In all of its chocolatey bacony glory.
Maybe I should back up a bit. I enjoy reading, what one of my friends termed as "Saccharine, sarcastic chic lit." I enjoy reading others slightly absurd happenings in their day-to-day lives. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who is amused, amazed and befuddled by life. I actually got to meet Jen Lancaster at a book signing in Farmington Hills.
Going with Jenn G., Kate and Jackie, we bought her a cupcake and wine in a sweet if not slightly stalker gesture figuring she will need the sugar and liquid strength after a night of signing. We then go to the gourmet grocery next door and gorge ourselves on dumplings, sushi and kobe beef panini. Realizing that we just spent way too much time eating and we most likely will get crappy seats we rush next door. As we run through the doors we notice a driver and car pull up. Wait, driver and car? In Farmington Hills? OMG! It has to be her! In walks Jen Lancaster, the cool kid, the plumpy princess. Jackie and her talk and joke like old friends as Kate and Jenn presents her with our gifts (which she loved. Or at least pretended to.) I want to dazzle her with my wit and snarkiness too! I am funny and lovable! In a lull in the conversation, she moves as if to go inside, waiting for the people in charge to lead her to her podium. I'm going to miss my chance to wow her! Say something quick!
I squeak as I try to squeeze something out. She looks at me expectantly.
"We don't work here."
Bazinga!
Giving me the, "This is why I carry mace on my book tour look" she is rescued by a Border's employee, a snippy little thing who gives me a withering look. Hmmm. Note to self: Just keep quiet next time I see famous people.
So as I sit here today, reading another of her books, chortling to myself, (Oh Jen, you ARE so witty.) I get the munchies. Hush tummy you just got a very large fattening breakfast of eggs, sausage, deep fried potatoes, deep fried french toast, and deep fried bacon. But it's hard to ignore. I mean the chic is talking about food every other page. And alcohol. And I have a good two weeks of forced sobriety before I leave Magnus, teenagers, and Pam's Prohibition 2010.
And every page my munchie craving gets stronger and stronger. This is going to get ugly really soon.
I rummage through my shelves as she describes chocolate ganache and foie gras. She lives in Chicago for pete's sake. Damn. All I have is Ramen and Slim fast. Yuck. And chocolate. And bacon. Hmmmm...
If you are going to crash your diet, crash it big. In all of its chocolatey bacony glory.
See how I am outside of the Jen Lancaster-Love-Fold? Sigh...
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