I never think of listening to audiobooks. I don’t know why. I should totally listen to more audiobooks. I spend enough time in the car, shuttling kids back and forth, driving to Target 9 million times a week, and doing all sorts of other errands. When I requested Yes, Please from my library, I didn’t even notice that I had clicked on the audiobook version — not the regular hardcopy book — to add to my hold queue. But hey, I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I never would have had the pleasure of hearing Patrick Stewart saying “fake boobs are weird, ya’ll.”.
Indeed, they are, Patrick. Indeed.
I can’t help but compare this book to Bossypants and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?. But that’s not fair. It isn’t fair to Amy Poehler. And it isn’t fair to Tina Fey and Mindy Kaling and pretty much all other funny women who may or may not choose to write a book. But I can’t help it. My mind automatically makes these comparisons.
The major difference (in a positive way) is that I didn’t always like Amy Poehler when she told the stories that made up her life. She is brutally honest about some aspects of her life that aren’t perfect — divorce, drug use, her tendency to swear at strangers on airplanes, and her inability to apologize in certain situations. And while she was telling her anecdotes, sometimes I got a little bit mad and annoyed. But, in the end, it made me like her even more, and appreciate that she was willing to let it all hang out there. Even the ugly stuff.
This was the first book in a long time that I wanted to stop reading (or, I guess, listening to), and write my review only part of the way through. I wanted to let everyone know that Amy made me laugh out loud and cry, on DISC ONE. She got me by talking about her family and her parents and the day she was born. I loved listening to her tell the world about how important her family is to her. And I cried when she told us all to go out and call our parents and ask about the day we were born. I can’t do that, so instead, that night, I made sure to tell all three of my kids about the days they were born instead.
But then later, I cried from laughing when she talked about the way that people from Boston love to point out other people from Boston. I don’t know why we all do this, but its true. And I haven’t lived in Boston for 10 years, but I’ll never stop doing it.
Amy and I are pretty much the same age, and we come from the same part of the world. I didn’t work at the same ice cream parlor as she did growing up, but I went there SO MANY TIMES. I grew up right down the street from Boston College, and went to a similar school at the same time. Her stories about growing up really made me feel like I know her. (However, while she was wearing neon and using tons of hairspray, I was wearing black and using lots of hair dye. But still. We would have been friends if we had known each other, of this I am sure.)
Like I said earlier, I didn’t always like Amy in this book (really, the story about Chris Cooper and his wife was uncomfortable to listen to), but when I did like her, I loved her. This is getting added to the pile of books I’m setting aside for Bunnybean when she is old enough to read it, so that she knows there is always a place for a smart, creative, funny woman in the world.