Quotes from Jen Lancaster

I yearn to be a woman of more depth, but I'm not so fond of the path I'd need to follow to get there.

You know what it was like? It was like thinking I was heading to a surprise party and instead it was a surprise pap smear.

As I examine my life through this book, I can't help but wonder if my mother was right. Maybe I really was what I ate. And maybe if she'd let me eat a little more sugar, I'd have come out sweeter.

But ever since I made the decision to drop a few pounds-way less easy than it sounds, by the way-I've become obsessed with my size and in so doing I've inadvertently allowed my inner critic to have a voice. And you know what? She's a bitch. Like now when I see my underpants in the laundry, I no longer think Soft! Cotton! Sensible! Instead I hear her say Damn, girl, these panties be huge.

Cost to clean deeply soiled rugs: $200. Cost to replace shiny, black, stack-heeled, pilgrim-toed boots: $185. Cost to fix every single delicious table and chair leg in the house: $490. Life with two shelter dogs: fucking priceless.

For the record? I have never been her baby. In fact, I reject the notion of coming out of her body. I prefer to believe I was hatched, or perhaps purchased.

I stuff another handful of Raisinets in my mouth. What gets me is the 'pretty face' bit. 'Cause I won't mind being reminded I'm fat as long as you water it down first. Why not say, Hey I'm going to insult you, but first I will congratulate your fortunate genetics and appropriate appliclation of Bobbi Brown cosmetics to prevent you from hitting me. Sh*t; I kind of prefer being called a 'fat bitch.' At least it doesn't pull any punches.

Seriously, our nation is never going to be on the same page on issues like gun control, welfare, the economy, the environment, etc. I doubt we'll ever come to terms on tastes great or less filling and hybrids versus Hummers, and there will always be Yankees fans and Red Sox fans, and never the 'twain shall meet. Fortunately, all it takes for us to be of one mind is some buttercream frosting.

When I hug her, I notice she's still wearing yesterday's false eyelashes. Mom? You know those come off with a little makeup remover and a cotton pad?" I'm not taking them off." Why not?" I spent $180 on that makeup job and I refuse to wash my face until I get my money's worth.

Fletch then kisses me on the forehead before opening the cabinet under the coffeemaker to grab placemats and napkins. Retrieving these items is his job because I kind of don't like to bend. I also refuse to carry anything heavier than my purse.

Ambien might have mentally just tossed my salad. WITH CROUTONS.

Over the summer we chatted one night while Angie stripped a bed, changed wet sheets, comforted and repajamaed a toddler, and chased down a car of speeding teenagers while shaking a brick at them, never once interrupting the conversation or setting down her margarita. The only reason this woman isn't president of General Motors is because she's chosen not to be.

I would rather receive a Pap smear from Captain Hook than venture out on New Year's Eve.

Amen,' I exclaim, accidentally spitting out a Raisinet. I pick up the chocolate with a Kleenex and stuff it in my purse. Ten bucks says a month from now I'll have forgotten about it and will finally have said heart attack when I assume a rat shat in there.

You think you're so cool just because you can walk!

I don't want to limit myself as a writer. Tastes change, and I want to keep my eye on the future.

I believe that I have such a vanilla life.

Expressing political opinion can be a powerful way to establish a character's voice when writing fiction.

The iPad's all about proprietary apps that are supposed to be amazing on the bigger screen.

Plaid is always cute and always will be. But only on the bottom. At the top, it makes you look like a farmer.

I had been terrified of Halloween my entire adult life. Loved it as a kid, but the minute I got out of college, there were little kids at my door demanding candy, which, No. 1, I couldn't afford, and, No. 2, if I had candy, it would be mine.

In real life, I tend to yell at people a lot. Not because I'm bossy or mean, but because I'm frustrated.

I'm doing a lot more handmade gifts. When I go to a party, I cook whatever it is I need to bring instead of just grabbing a bottle of wine.

I just thank God my husband and I found each other before the advent of social media. I can't imagine dating someone and seeing what they're doing on their Facebook page. And people breaking up with each other over texts now? We had to break up with each other face to face back then.