So like, there’s this lady up in Salt Lake City and I read her blog every damn day, sometimes twice or even three times a day, and I read it because she admits stuff I wouldn’t even tell my BFF (sorry, Karen!) but she says it in the funniest way possible and she refers to her mama as the Avon World Sales Leader and never by her name or by “Mom” and that cracks me up every time even though I’ve read it like a thousand times and she’s not afraid to admit she had to check into the looney bin after her first kid even though surely with 40 gazillion jillian readers worldwide chances are good that a few hundred of her high school classmates–especially the ones who were mean to her–and at least a few dozen card-carrying Mormons who weep for her eternal soul will read it and she has a beautiful house and decorates it herself and takes the most beautiful photos of her kids and her dogs and even with all the beautiful stuff to look at on her blog she manages to write the most hilarious posts day after day even with a newborn in the house and
Yah. Ya-huh. Seriously!
I could not be more excited. And jealous. But mostly excited.
Via dooce. Duh.