Talk about living under a rock. I guess she who lives in glass fishbowls...or something like that.
I was at Target the other day to buy Chelsea Handler's book and I decided to pick up some more very light reading. I was in a rush but I want to have something completely mindless to read on my long flight to Hawaii.
So I basically just threw any old trade paperback with a picture of Jennifer Aniston on the cover into my cart.
Why did I think that He's Just Not That Into You was a novel?
Oh, maybe because they made it into a movie and movies actually need things like plot and characters. (Man, what I wouldn't give to be the screenwriter on a movie like that!)
But the sad thing is that I'm reading it anyway. I might not need a "no-excuse guide to understanding guys" or dating them, but I could use a little refresher course in dealing with friends.
The problem is I'm not sure which side I identify with more, the guy who's not so into someone or the pathetic girl who believes he really is.
I guess I should stick to Are You There Vodka, It's Me, Chelsea. Now there's something I can relate to.
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