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(Not the quest to find a one night stand though, thank you very much). There was an unspoken understanding that I would be standing up there with her as a one-time favor. Clearly orcas were out of the question, as were the disabled, women in need of JCPenney suits, the ozone layer, lead-paint prevention, historical landmarks, and anything involving a ladle.On agreeing to be a bridesmaid: The subplot of modern marriage assumes that a wedding is the crown jewel of any best friendship, a time when otherwise rational women are legally permitted to misplace their minds and treat their friends like heel-skin-shaving employees. Dally in dates. This is something we tolerate in our closest pals, but I had barely spoken to this woman in a decade.I had no choice but to respond not only with a "yes," but with a "yes, I'd be honored." On one tacit condition.
Go nuts. Chocolate chip cookies, impossible to [.]. up, would breed like deer.If you are a fan of autobiographical essays with a humorous slant, this collection is a must. I knew my motivation was rooted in boredom; I wouldn't stick with it if it wasn't relatively easy.
Perhaps the best way to give you a feel for her writing is to share some excerpts:On volunteering: I took my volunteerism as seriously as someone like myself could. Although I suspect we have little in common--being at least 20 years apart in age and growing up in wildly different environments (Crosley was raised in Westchester, New York and currently lives in New York City)--I found myself laughing and relating to so much of what she wrote about. Unless you are professional, you will find the tart to be a high-maintenance, unforgiving whistle-blower of a pastry. This book is a collection of essays on a variety of topics ranging from the perils of having an unusual name, the pitfalls of volunteering, moving mishaps, having a boss from hell, and the horrors of being a bridesmaid. Add craisins. This narrowed the field considerably.
But I am a bit biased as my dream is to be a writer of humorous essays just like Sloane. Like the best man's polyester-blend tux, I was a rental.On making tarts: First you have to understand how to bake a successful dessert tart. The best description I can think of for Sloane Crosley is that she is the female David Sedaris--and that is meant as a compliment as I'm a huge Sedaris fan. Perfection is to be found in the imperfect. Except with tarts.
If they could sprout sexual organs and mate, they'd go extinct on the jungle floor.
Most baking, even complicated baking that results in caramelized pine nuts or perfect chocolate and vanilla swirls, consists of adding dry ingredients to wet.
So I consider her my competition.
I found her writing assured, and there was enough chuckles per page that I was never bored.
Game on, Sloane.
In an effort to mask her apparent lack of sociability as an adult, that evening the role of "old friend" would be played by yours truly.
Any cookbook worth its weight in sugar will encourage you to experiment.
Of course I'm filled with seething resentment that someone this young could be so funny and write so well.
Game on.
I've read a lot of books in a similar format and found I Was Told There'd Be Cake quite disappointing. Instead of being laughing or being even remotely amused, I was bored and annoyed (by the time I forced myself to finish the book) that the author had wasted a few hours of my time.
This book would best be served as a trivet or to level a wobbly chair. Just because she has publishing connections and was able to write a memoir does not necessarily mean she should have.
I love David Sedaris, have read all his books, and laughed so hard I cried throughout all of them. The book is hyped as being funny.in the realm of David Sedaris, etc.
It's boring, dull, annoying, and goes no where. Needless to say, Crosley being put in the same realm as Sedaris sounded good to me.
Until I started to read this book. Rather than laugh, chuckle, or even smile.I rolled my eyes to the point of nearly having a seizure.
Sorry Crosley, your life just isn't interesting.
Instantly. I bought this book after seeing it as a "must read for every twenty-something" in my local bookstore. After reading the first two sentences I was hooked. Crosley is hilarious, her writing is candid and visceral, and her stories are intriguing. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
I think she just does not know any better, but her stories are crass and cruel. Crosley's selfish world, the deaths of over 3,000 people in your own city would be meaningless as long as her life was not disrupted. I am embarrassed for the author. I read this book because I live in the area where many of the stories take place. This book is just awful. There are so many wonderful authors writing creative stories about their lives, this stuff is just garbage (glad I borrowed it from the library instead of adding to the books' sales numbers). In Ms. I am sure she is being truthful here.
I can only conclude that it must have been a favor owed to the author's family. Don't expect clever observations or sweet memories in this book - just trashy recollections of a selfish, poorly raised young lady. Yes, it is "well written" - clear descriptions, vivid characters - but the content is nothing less than horrifying. As I read the book I wondered how the heck a publisher ever agreed to print this. She tears apart the wedding of a "friend" of hers with no apology for her meanness. She went for an interview - and got a job on September 12, 2001 IN NEW YORK CITY and defends herself by saying that "we didn't know until later how bad things were". Sad. Please do not compare this author to the imaginative folks named in other reviews (I don't even want to put their names in a review about Sloane Crosley) who write warm, loving and humorous tales about their lives.
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