Quote

When I was in junior high I read a lot of Danielle Steele. So I always assumed that the day I got engaged I'd be naked, covered in rose petals, and sleeping with the brother of the man who'd kidnapped me.

Jenny Lawson

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Jenny Lawson
Age: 50
Born: 1973
Born: December 29
Author
Journalist
Jennifer Lawson
Men
Engaged
Steele
Naked
Kidnapped
Rose
Petals
Brother
Junior
Sleep
Juniors
High
Assumed
Read
Sleeping
Always
Covered

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One of the most important things I learned is forging a rapport with someone at your insurance company. Know their names. You'll eventually get someone who will tell you, This is how you do an appeal. This is what you need to say in your letter. You can also always go to the ER to get whatever you need to tide you over for a few days.
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A friend is someone who knows where all your bodies are buried. Because they're the ones who helped you put them there. And sometimes, if you're really lucky, they help you dig them back up.
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It’s amazing how much you’re missing in a depressive state until you start to come out on the other side. It’s like breathing again after being underwater for far too long.
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In short? It is exhausting being me. Pretending to be normal is draining and requires amazing amounts of energy and Xanax.
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Then I yelled through his door, It's an anniversary gift for you, asshole. Two whole weeks early. FIFTEEN YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.
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But really, what else are you going to talk about in line at the liquor store? Childhood trauma seems like the natural choice, since it’s the reason why most of us are in line there to begin with.
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When you're really crazy you don't question it. Being aware of my behaviors stops them. Sure, a lot of people pick their cuticles, but how many people cut big parts of their skin off? It's unfair because I have been judged.
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One moment I'm perfectly fine and the next I feel a wave of nausea, then panic. Then I can't catch my breath and I know I'm about to lose control and all I want to do is escape. Except that the one thing I can't escape from is the very thing I want to run away from... me.
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In fact almost everyone in my yearbook wrote the same thing to me: To weird girl, you're nice. I didn't think it was bad. When I showed my mother she said, Everyone is different. Being weird became my tool. I'm weird that's who I am. It was my coping badge.
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When I was little, my father used to sell guns and ammo at a sporting goods store, but I always told everyone he was an arms dealer, because it sounded more exciting.
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Writing is my therapy. In addition to my real therapy. God knows where I'd be without it. I'd probably still be at my last job, working in HR at a religious organization. I was horribly miscast.
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Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn't actually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in your mind?
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One ox, two oxen. One fox, two foxen.
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When Hailey was born my first thought was that I needed a drink and that hospitals should have bars in them.
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...and whenever I had menstral cramps, I could just pretend that Voldemort was close.
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Every time I get scared or feel like I'm not going to be good enough at something, I say that mantra to myself. Pretend you're good at it.
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A hug is like a strangle you haven't finished yet.
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Grandpa did everything at his own pace, a speed that my sister and I referred to as 'when snails attack.' ... My grandparents' house was only about ten miles from ours, but the ride there would necessitate sandwiches packed for the trip, and several books to keep us occupied.
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