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| Image source: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/i-feel-bad-about-my-neck-nora-ephron/1100267672?ean=9780307276827 |
This is a good read for women, old and young. The author generously shared her life experiences, her passion and her views. Reading this book is like listening to the wise words of our mom, our older sister or our grandma. We surrender to their endless stories and our eyes are opened to a world that is and will probably be different from ours. We listen to every word they say because we know the decisions they've made, whether good ones or bad, would lead us to make better ones in the future. This book has the same effect on me. It's like she's talking to me and I'm mere listening. It's kinda one-way, but it's the good kind.
Things I learned from (bless her soul) Nora Ephron:
According to my dermatologist, the neck starts to go at 43, and that's that... the neck is a dead giveaway...Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth.
Never have an operation in any part of your body without asking a plastic surgeon to come stand by in the operating room and keep an eye out.
When people come to dinner, it should be fun, and part of the fun should be the food.
Maintenance is what you have to do just so you can walk out the door knowing that if you go to the market and bump into a guy who once rejected you, you won't have to hide behind a stack of canned food.
There's a reason why forty, fifty and sixty don't look the way they used to, and it's not because of feminism or better living through exercise. It's because of hair dye.
Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit disorder medicates itself.
Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up.
Parenting carried with it the implicit assumption that any time is quality time if the parent is in attendance.
When you move away, you experience change as a betrayal.
Love may or may not be homesickness, but homesickness is most definitely love.
And so, at first, you hope. And then, you hope against hope. And then, finally, you lose hope. And there you have it: the 3 stages of grief when it comes to lost food.
The state of rapture I experience when I read a wonderful book is one of the main reasons I read.
*Some of what Nora Ephron's What-I-Wish-I'd-Known:
You can't be friends with people who call after 11 p.m.
Anything you think is wrong with your body at the age of thirty-five you will be nostalgic for at the age of forty-five.
Write everything down.
Keep a journal.
Take more pictures.
You can order more than one dessert.
There's no point in making piecrust from scratch.
Overtip.
Never let them know.*
Most of my mistakes turned out to be the things I survived.
Death is a sniper. It strikes people you love, people you like, people you know, it's everywhere.
Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years?
Consider the alternative.
Things I learned from (bless her soul) Nora Ephron:
According to my dermatologist, the neck starts to go at 43, and that's that... the neck is a dead giveaway...Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth.
Never have an operation in any part of your body without asking a plastic surgeon to come stand by in the operating room and keep an eye out.
When people come to dinner, it should be fun, and part of the fun should be the food.
Maintenance is what you have to do just so you can walk out the door knowing that if you go to the market and bump into a guy who once rejected you, you won't have to hide behind a stack of canned food.
There's a reason why forty, fifty and sixty don't look the way they used to, and it's not because of feminism or better living through exercise. It's because of hair dye.
Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit disorder medicates itself.
Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up.
Parenting carried with it the implicit assumption that any time is quality time if the parent is in attendance.
When you move away, you experience change as a betrayal.
Love may or may not be homesickness, but homesickness is most definitely love.
And so, at first, you hope. And then, you hope against hope. And then, finally, you lose hope. And there you have it: the 3 stages of grief when it comes to lost food.
The state of rapture I experience when I read a wonderful book is one of the main reasons I read.
*Some of what Nora Ephron's What-I-Wish-I'd-Known:
You can't be friends with people who call after 11 p.m.
Anything you think is wrong with your body at the age of thirty-five you will be nostalgic for at the age of forty-five.
Write everything down.
Keep a journal.
Take more pictures.
You can order more than one dessert.
There's no point in making piecrust from scratch.
Overtip.
Never let them know.*
Most of my mistakes turned out to be the things I survived.
Death is a sniper. It strikes people you love, people you like, people you know, it's everywhere.
Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years?
Consider the alternative.
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