6 years to the day, I finished my second Jenny Lawson book, and my thoughts on this one are akin to the first: it's fun, scattered, and reads like a series of blog posts.
Either way, it was still fun. These make for good holiday reads partly because of one of the things I always dislike about memoirs: there's rarely any true overall structure and you instead getting a bunch of loosely connected stories. So you can stop whenever you want and it'll never really be a "stopping reading now is the worst thing ever."
This round was a little different. I learned Lawson grew up closer to I did than I realized. We also went to the same college. Living in the land where it forgets to rain can do things to your brain. I get that.
The beginning of the book was probably stronger for me than the second half because it did feel like there was more structure at that point. But that's also typical. "My life until now" seems to lend itself to a more linear structure. But when they become adults, timelines start blending like a Marvel movie.
That's it for now. Happy Boxing Day. Hopefully I don't wait six years to pick up her other book.
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