We love when someone has the cajones to tell it like it is. And when they are hilarious too? Well then we CRUSH on them bigtime, yo! So how excited were we that the very funny Jenna McCarthy agreed to share her 5 Loves and a Dud with us? Um, VERY. Jenna's fifth novel, If It Was Easy, They'd Call The Whole Damn Thing A Honeymoon:Living With And Loving The TV-Addicted, Sex Obsessed, Not-So-Handy Man You Married., is an incredibly funny take on marriage that had us rolling on the floor. She's so freakin' fabulous-she was on the TODAY show earlier this week chatting with Hoda and Khloe Kardashdian about it-watch it here! And we think you'll love her 5 Loves and a Dud. (Liz is a total hat whore too!)
Here's the dealio: Jenna McCarthy presents an uproarious but insightful peek behind the curtains at the unholy state of matrimony. With ballsy wit and bawdy humor, she explores everything from male domestic idiocy and the frustrating misfires in spousal communication to how to stay true to the peskiest of vows: forsaking all others. Part in-your-face guide, part brutal confession, this book is a must-read manifesto on surviving marriage in an age when everyone seems to live forever and getting a divorce is as easy as ordering a latte.
Sound fabulous? It is! Leave a comment here and be entered to win one of FIVE copies. We'll choose the winners on Sunday October 9th after 6pm PST. Good Luck!
CHICK LIT IS NOT DEAD PRESENTS...JENNA MCCARTHY'S 5 LOVES AND A DUD
1. Hats. I might be the Imelda Marcos of hats. I collect them as souvenirs the way some people stockpile refrigerator magnets or shot glasses. My two favorites are a fluffy red chenille one I got in Dingle (best town name ever), Ireland and a furry leopard bucket model a girlfriend sent me from Paris. Hats are the perfect accessories because they dress up boring basics and you don’t have to style your hair! Cowboy hats, bowlers, newsboy caps, berets—I love them all. Anything but beanies. I have a big head so I look like a convict in those.
2. Tennis. I grew up actively not playing sports. In my twenties I went to the gym religiously, but I mostly hated it. I’ve probably spent a year of my life on some or another miserable cardio machine, going nowhere. I was thirty when I took my first tennis lesson, and I admit the most compelling thing about the sport to me was the outfits. My first tennis skirt was pink and ruffled and I couldn’t wait to put that thing on. I may have looked halfway cute, but man was I bad. We’re talking balls-flying-off-into-the-street bad. In retrospect, I’m surprised that I had the optimism to stick with it, or the audacity to think that I might ever be able to play the game. But I did and I can and sometimes I even win. That’s still hard for me to believe.
3. Crazy-super-soft fabrics. Minky blankets, slinky dresses, plush robes, velvety bamboo t-shirts, faux fur anything, zillion thread count Egyptian cotton sheets: If it feels good to wear it or touch it, I am powerless to resist. (I’m a Taurus; I hear lots of us are wired this way.) As it happens, I am violently allergic to cashmere—which is probably a very good thing.
4. America’s Funniest Videos. I watch very little TV. Not because I’m holier than anyone; I have a hard time sitting still. I have never seen Sex and the City or any of the Real Housewives shows. But I do record AFV. I watch it with my kids—or by myself—and I laugh until I cry. I’ll even rewind the good clips and watch them in slow motion. (Did I really just admit that?) It’s totally lowbrow, I know—and probably says something disturbing about my personality seeing as it’s mostly a show about dumb people hurting themselves—but I can’t help loving it.
5. Salt. I can’t think of a single non-dessert food that doesn’t taste better to me dusted with salt. I put it on everything, even toast and cheese and licorice. Thankfully I have extremely low blood pressure—at least for now.
There are plenty of things I don’t particularly care for (apathy, regret, flying, Spinning, telemarketers, cellulite, the word “mauve,” Renee Zellweger, coffee with skin milk in it, dull pencils, the way people in LA refer to the movie business as “the industry” as if it’s the only one in existence, touching the wet hair around the shower drain) but at the tippy-top of the list is plain old rudeness. It’s everywhere! Every day! There’s the jerk who walks through the bank door and doesn’t bother to pause and hold it for you. The cashier who answers the phone while you are standing in front of her trying to complete your transaction. Bores who monopolize every conversation. Children AND ADULTS who don’t say please and thank-you. I realize I sound like someone’s grandma here (“When I was a kid we knew how to be polite, uphill in the snow both ways!”) but honestly, a lack of simple courtesy makes me mental.
Thanks Jenna! xo, L&L