by Gail Allison
Traditional? Nope. Honest? Yes. Just so damn uncontrollably-giggling, mascara-smearingly funny that you should never ever bring this book on public transportation? 100% absolutely for sure. Consider yourself warned.
In Jen Lancaster’s second memoir, “Bright Lights, Big Ass: A Self-Indulgent, Surly, Ex-Sorority Girl's Guide to Why it Often Sucks in the City, or Who are These Idiots and Why Do They All Live Next Door to Me?”, she explores life in the big city with her husband. She begins with a scathing letter to Carrie Bradshaw, accusing her of setting unrealistic big-city living expectations and then, through a series of short essays about her life, illustrates exactly why the Sex and The City lifestyle could never be anything but fictional. After losing her high-powered corporate job, Jen had to refine her lifestyle, and this memoir details her life after making the dizzying jump from top-shelf cocktails to boxed wine from Trader Joe’s.
Her experiences around her hometown of Chicago range a whole spectrum of possibilities, from getting into (and losing) a death match with a paper gown at her annual “well-woman” exam, to accidentally reporting her neighbors to Homeland Security. Ms. Lancaster’s writing is so open and real that I would defy you to NOT want to be BFFs with her after finishing this book.
Jen is not afraid to tell you exactly how she’s thinking, why she’s thinking it, and what she’s planning to do about it, which makes for an incredibly engaging and candid book. Her writing style is reminiscent of chatting with a friend (albeit a mouthy, somewhat self-absorbed friend), and her biting sense of humor will be met with everything from a dropped jaw to uncontrollable laughter. Her absolute sincerity is what makes this book a real gem. There is no self-conscious glossing over uncomfortable situations: she dives right in and unapologetically takes you with her.
A word to the wise: if you are offended by inappropriate language, this may not be the volume for you. She is not afraid to season her text with the occasional f-bomb, so perhaps this isn’t the best gift for your precocious 11-year-old niece’s 6th grade graduation, but it makes for a fantastic read on a warm summer day while lounging in your backyard with a nice cold glass (box) of wine beside you.
Overall, this is easily one of the most entertaining books I’ve ever read (and will definitely read again). It’s absolutely refreshing to read a memoir that is this hilarious, this honest, and just this much fun.
