It turns out that I am not very good at making friends unless I am already trapped in an insufferable hellscape with someone who doesn’t mind my cracking a few inappropriate jokes as we circle life’s drain.
― Samantha Irby, We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.Forget figuring out how many dates until it’s appropriate to have sex—I want to know how many we have to get through before it’s acceptable to stop.
― Samantha Irby, We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.Have you heard of those thunder shirts for dogs to help them stay calm during loud storms? They should be made for people, to help us stay calm in situations when we have to listen to someone explain at great length why they are too busy to own a TV set.
― Samantha Irby, We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.
This is the second Samantha Irby book I’ve read. I picked up “Wow, No Thank You,” a few years ago, loved it, then instantly forgot about it until I had to go digging for a quote that I thought was in that book; something about going on a writer’s cruise shortly after Trump was elected in 2016. Anyway, whilst digging for that quote, I realized that there are several more Samantha Irby books out there waiting for me. This one was available to borrow from the library, so I downloaded that sucker to Libby and here we are.
The book consists of Irby’s personal essays about growing up in suburban Illinois, her full-time job at a veterinary hospital in the greater Chicago area, her devil cat, and how she fell in love with and eventually moved in with her fiancée in Michigan. Chapter titles include gems such as “You Don’t Have to Be Grateful For Sex,” “The Case for Remaining Indoors,” and “Feelings Are A Mistake.”
It’s too early for New Year’s resolutions (and I don’t think they’re a good idea overall) but making a plan to read the rest of her books in the coming year sounds like a delightful way to spend my free time, or at the very least the time spent waiting at the bus stop on my way to the office in the morning.
Content warnings for death of a parent.