Quotes from Jen Lancaster

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

Presently, Mary Mac—that's what we call her for short—has churned out more kids than I can count. It's like she's a hoarder, only for children. In terms of personal achievement, she's pretty much the patron saint of minivans and stretch marks. What is that meme I've seen about the prolific 19 Kids and Counting mother? Ah, yes, "It's a vagina, not a clown car." Add one persecution complex, stir, and, boom! Meet my older sister.

Butterflies are a lot like rainbows: They're phenomenally beautiful in real life, yet no graphic representation can do them justice; ergo, it's best to forgo.

When I'm able to slough it off, when it's not causing physical symptoms or putting me on edge, my anxiety still pops up out of nowhere to spoil nice moments. I fear good things happening because I believe something bad is sure to follow.

With two pit bulls in the house, we have a responsibility to make sure they're always under control. I mean, we're well aware of how sweet and harmless they are, yet the fact that they even exist intimidates others, so we train for our neighbors' peace of mind. As an added bonus, the dogs love it!

I used to have to hunt for hard-boiled eggs when I was a kid. What was the point of that? Was I supposed to be, 'Yay! I found them! Egg-salad sandwiches for everyone!' I was seven! I wanted chocolate, not bioavailable protein.

The thing about mass transportation is that it transports the masses.

Sidebar: Mindy Kaling describes "best friend" as being a friendship tier and not a singular person. Mindy Kaling is wise beyond her years.)

eBay is a fine place to unload your Prada bag when you're in a desperate situation and it's exactly what the doctor ordered when searching for a specific item, say an authentic 1965 edition of the game Mystery Date. eBay is a very, very bad place to go if you're a hypercompetitive asshole with a penchant for spite bidding.

No one gives out Congratulations on Not Being a Douche-Canoe medals, because good behavior is part of the social contract.

I've always feared growing older because I thought I'd run out of interests, but what this project has taught me is that I've barely scratched the surface of what I could try next.

Couple this discovery with the realization that my things shouldn't own me and that life's meant to be lived, not displayed on Pinterest, and my sense is I've finally achieved something close to balance. I feel excellent about actually having

Can I tell you something about Seattle? Everyone there is a filthy liar. They're all, 'Don't move to Seattle—it's so rainy!' And yet every time I've been there, a tiny amount of rain falls before the whole sky explodes into rainbows and sunlight. Seattleites mean to hog up all the stunning vistas and good coffee and flowering bushes for themselves. Bet on it.

bundle of nerves, swaddled in a blanket of panic.

photo developers everywhere are likely the reason my entire generation didn't devolve into total chaos.

I've always wanted to take a swim wherever it is they snap those screensaver photos—Fiji? Bora Bora? The Maldives?—and sleep in a hotel room that's more of a hut built on a dock over the water. After reading The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, I'm dying to see the sun set in Botswana. I want to visit Indian temples and volunteer at an elephant sanctuary.

The difference between social media and a social life is the difference between eating a marshmallow Peep and dining on a tomahawk-cut rib eye: one is substantial and nutritious; the other is just a momentarily satisfying puff of sweetened air, offering no long-term benefits. I can enjoy the fluff, but I can't subsist on it.

The paradox of living in the safest possible time is that those who suffer from anxiety aren't hardwired to take the win; we panic when things go too well.

milk, powdered heavy cream, and powdered butter." "Didn't know a lot of these products existed

Or how about when a person publishes something along the lines of, "This has been the worst day EVAH," but then gets all closed-lipped about why it's been so bad. This is attention-seeking at its worst.

While I'm happy for everyone who wants a family, I look at the notion of having kids the same way I look at people who get tattoos on their faces, like, "Hoo-boy, that's permanent.

With the mere click of a mouse, I can be put in my place but good via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, or Google+, just to name a few. (But not MySpace, which has been a ghost town since 2008. I hope Tom's okay.)

My whole life I've harbored a resentment toward those who could ride no-handed. To this day, I can't even sit on an exercise bike without clinging to the handlebars with a serious G.I.-Joe- kung-fu grip. Every time I see someone on the road, all smug and well-balanced, using their cell phone and gesturing while they talk and ride, I secretly want to bash them with my car door. It's

Dessert is my reward for having met my goals during the day. Really, dessert is an event rather than a specific item.