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3.83 AVERAGE
3.83 AVERAGE
funny
lighthearted
relaxing
fast-paced
emotional
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
Out of order or not? Hard to say, considering additional material was added. (And does it really matter since it's an essay collection?)
Ms. Irby continues to delight me - even if most of the included recipes were still out of my permissible dietary allowance. (Chronic illnesses are funny that way, even if the general public assumes everyone with a dysfunctional GI tract is exactly the same)
I felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia with these essays, though not necessarily in a good way. I needed their insight and wisdom thirteen years ago, sixteen years ago. Picking out similar behaviors and lessons learned was, naturally, painful. And I don't know that I wanted to relive that dating experience - well, ever, but certainly not around this time of year. That's what such personal essays are supposed to do, though: bring an element of your reality into the light and remind you that you weren't alone in behaving like a complete idiot in your 20s and early 30s.
Ms. Irby just cushions the blow with her sense of humor, inviting you to attempt to laugh at the fool you once were.
I'm still trying to process the thoughts that surfaced from turning these pages - and probably will through numerous therapy sessions - but I can't find a single fault. And, given the option, I'd much rather sit down with her and confess my blunders and broken thought processes than fork out co-pays to a blank-faced therapist.
Ms. Irby continues to delight me - even if most of the included recipes were still out of my permissible dietary allowance. (Chronic illnesses are funny that way, even if the general public assumes everyone with a dysfunctional GI tract is exactly the same)
I felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia with these essays, though not necessarily in a good way. I needed their insight and wisdom thirteen years ago, sixteen years ago. Picking out similar behaviors and lessons learned was, naturally, painful. And I don't know that I wanted to relive that dating experience - well, ever, but certainly not around this time of year. That's what such personal essays are supposed to do, though: bring an element of your reality into the light and remind you that you weren't alone in behaving like a complete idiot in your 20s and early 30s.
Ms. Irby just cushions the blow with her sense of humor, inviting you to attempt to laugh at the fool you once were.
I'm still trying to process the thoughts that surfaced from turning these pages - and probably will through numerous therapy sessions - but I can't find a single fault. And, given the option, I'd much rather sit down with her and confess my blunders and broken thought processes than fork out co-pays to a blank-faced therapist.
When it’s Monday morning and you just want to stand in your bathroom with your hands over your face and cry because you have to go to work, plug in the audiobook of Meaty for the drive in. By the time you show up at the office, you’ve been LOL-ing for the past twenty minutes and now feel like you can handle anything.
When your fibroids are pushing against your bladder and you’re like I have to pee again? Seriously? and wondering how many people are noting your frequent trips to the restroom, Samantha Irby assures you that “Um—yeah, girl, it could be so much worse. You’re aight.”
And the next time you question that decision to go on a years long hiatus from dating, because of that lost weekend after finding out the twentieth man you were crazy about not only didn’t love you, he probably didn’t even like you that much, Samantha’s got your back. She’ll confirm for you in crystal clear truth-ringing words that you made absolutely the right decision.
You know I already ordered the hard copy of this from Barnes & Noble.
When your fibroids are pushing against your bladder and you’re like I have to pee again? Seriously? and wondering how many people are noting your frequent trips to the restroom, Samantha Irby assures you that “Um—yeah, girl, it could be so much worse. You’re aight.”
And the next time you question that decision to go on a years long hiatus from dating, because of that lost weekend after finding out the twentieth man you were crazy about not only didn’t love you, he probably didn’t even like you that much, Samantha’s got your back. She’ll confirm for you in crystal clear truth-ringing words that you made absolutely the right decision.
You know I already ordered the hard copy of this from Barnes & Noble.
I loved this book! I listened on Audible and was laughing out loud at work hoping no one would ask me why. There is a lot of profanity in this book. If you are bothered by that, this isn’t the book for you.
Samantha Irby is hilarious, though I could have done with just a tad fewer diarrhea stories
This is my first time encountering Samantha Irby’s work and I’m already crushing. She is hilarious and poignant.
As funny as Samantha Irby is (extremely) this book felt a little too much like a bunch of blog posts. But then again, her blog is excellent, so that's really a pretty mild criticism.
I can't say I enjoyed this. Well, I mean, I can but I would be lying because this was not at all enjoyable to me.
And yet it was quite often relatable.
And it's candid. And dryly funny.
But mostly it's meaty, as the title suggests, and I do not like too much meat. It doesn't digest well in my delicate system.
As you can see, it took me almost a month and a half to read this book of 253 pages, all essays. It was a slog to get through because I felt weighed down so much of the time but I am glad I read it and I kinda wish Irby and I ran in the same circles. On the other hand, I'm kinda glad we don't. I already have my "I love you so much but please, I am begging you, get yourself together" friend. I think we all do. Maybe that's why Irby is so easy to adore as you roll your eyes at her shenanigans.
Of particular note to me were the following essays:
"At 30"
She turns 30, has a list of gripes, some relatable and others not so much, and then she says this:
I need more people to describe me as "the funniest person they know."
Honey, you and I share #goals.
"Forest Whitaker's Neck"
I HATED dating so much that I had repressed most of my memories from those times but she came along and used this essay to bring them all to light: Gross sheets full of the leftovers from people before me, finding other LAYdies' hairs in the beard of the guy you're banging, stiff-crotched panties the next morning. Ugh. This is probably the real reason I got married. Dating is a horrorscape.
"How To Get Your Disgusting Meat Carcass Ready For Some New, Hot Sex"
Irby and I suddenly became twins because this is all me. All me except for the part about sucking on toes. That is the polar opposite of me.
"Would Dying Alone Really Be So Terrible?"
Answer: No. No, it would not be, not at all.
"The Tapeworm Diet"
The fatness mystery: SOLVED! GG, Irby!
But then she calls Beezus "Beatrice" and that's not ok.
"I Want To Put a Fat Bitch On Television"
And I want the rest of Nell's story, so...get on it, lady. Make this happen.
I read this collection after everyone else read and reviewed [b:We Are Never Meeting In Real Life|37713392|We Are Never Meeting In Real Life|Samantha Irby|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1514341314s/37713392.jpg|54123625]. Those reviews made me want to read that book but I saw we had this at the library and decided to start at the beginning without actually doing the work of starting at the real beginning because I'm too lazy for that. I mean, look. It took me 1.5 months to read a short book of essays. I'd be dead before I finished a blog.
But I may read that thing, anyway, because I find I kinda love Irby now.
And yet it was quite often relatable.
And it's candid. And dryly funny.
But mostly it's meaty, as the title suggests, and I do not like too much meat. It doesn't digest well in my delicate system.
As you can see, it took me almost a month and a half to read this book of 253 pages, all essays. It was a slog to get through because I felt weighed down so much of the time but I am glad I read it and I kinda wish Irby and I ran in the same circles. On the other hand, I'm kinda glad we don't. I already have my "I love you so much but please, I am begging you, get yourself together" friend. I think we all do. Maybe that's why Irby is so easy to adore as you roll your eyes at her shenanigans.
Of particular note to me were the following essays:
"At 30"
She turns 30, has a list of gripes, some relatable and others not so much, and then she says this:
I need more people to describe me as "the funniest person they know."
Honey, you and I share #goals.
"Forest Whitaker's Neck"
I HATED dating so much that I had repressed most of my memories from those times but she came along and used this essay to bring them all to light: Gross sheets full of the leftovers from people before me, finding other LAYdies' hairs in the beard of the guy you're banging, stiff-crotched panties the next morning. Ugh. This is probably the real reason I got married. Dating is a horrorscape.
"How To Get Your Disgusting Meat Carcass Ready For Some New, Hot Sex"
Irby and I suddenly became twins because this is all me. All me except for the part about sucking on toes. That is the polar opposite of me.
"Would Dying Alone Really Be So Terrible?"
Answer: No. No, it would not be, not at all.
"The Tapeworm Diet"
The fatness mystery: SOLVED! GG, Irby!
But then she calls Beezus "Beatrice" and that's not ok.
"I Want To Put a Fat Bitch On Television"
And I want the rest of Nell's story, so...get on it, lady. Make this happen.
I read this collection after everyone else read and reviewed [b:We Are Never Meeting In Real Life|37713392|We Are Never Meeting In Real Life|Samantha Irby|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1514341314s/37713392.jpg|54123625]. Those reviews made me want to read that book but I saw we had this at the library and decided to start at the beginning without actually doing the work of starting at the real beginning because I'm too lazy for that. I mean, look. It took me 1.5 months to read a short book of essays. I'd be dead before I finished a blog.
But I may read that thing, anyway, because I find I kinda love Irby now.
Alright, so, I wish I had read Meaty before We are Never Meeting in Real Life. And as I understand it, this was published independently first, and then rereleased after We are Never Meeting in Real Life was so popular.
We are Never Meeting in Real Life is hilarious and witty - but it comes across as shrill, grating and overwhelming. Meaty introduces us to a softer Samantha Irby, and as a reader, Meaty sends a better groundwork for why Irby writes the way she did in We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.
The humor is more real and raw (but not scathing or acidic) in Meaty. Irby brings a genuine, hopeful (but often times cynical) despite the challenges she has clearly experienced in her life as a result of her family, her chronic health issues, and unfortunate dating history. She comes across as highly relatable to those who cope with all their trauma with self-deprecating humor.
After finishing Meeting...I knew Irby was a unique voice. But, I wasn't sure I could continue reading her. It was almost TOO cynical. TOO juvenile. There were a few times where I wanted to scream "Just grow up. Own it all. Make choices to improve. Go to therapy. You're making me laugh over here, but you are frustrating the sh*t out of me with some of your rants!"
Meaty helped me reconfigure my opinion, and I'm almost done with Wow, No Thank You - which again, is a much better, softer and enjoyable Irby (and less reliance on scat jokes) to really help me appreciate and understand where she's coming from and who she is as a writer.
We are Never Meeting in Real Life is hilarious and witty - but it comes across as shrill, grating and overwhelming. Meaty introduces us to a softer Samantha Irby, and as a reader, Meaty sends a better groundwork for why Irby writes the way she did in We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.
The humor is more real and raw (but not scathing or acidic) in Meaty. Irby brings a genuine, hopeful (but often times cynical) despite the challenges she has clearly experienced in her life as a result of her family, her chronic health issues, and unfortunate dating history. She comes across as highly relatable to those who cope with all their trauma with self-deprecating humor.
After finishing Meeting...I knew Irby was a unique voice. But, I wasn't sure I could continue reading her. It was almost TOO cynical. TOO juvenile. There were a few times where I wanted to scream "Just grow up. Own it all. Make choices to improve. Go to therapy. You're making me laugh over here, but you are frustrating the sh*t out of me with some of your rants!"
Meaty helped me reconfigure my opinion, and I'm almost done with Wow, No Thank You - which again, is a much better, softer and enjoyable Irby (and less reliance on scat jokes) to really help me appreciate and understand where she's coming from and who she is as a writer.