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Autobiography of a Fat Bride: True Tales of a Pretend Adulthood

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Overview

The author of the New York Times bestseller The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club tackles her biggest challenge yet: grown-up life.In Autobiography of a Fat Bride, Laurie Notaro tries painfully to make the transition from all-night partyer and bar-stool regular to mortgagee with plumbing problems and no air-conditioning. Laurie finds grown-up life just as harrowing as her reckless youth, as she meets Mr. Right, moves in, settles down, and crosses the toe-stubbing threshold of matrimony. From her mother's grade-school warning to avoid kids in tie-dyed shirts because their hippie parents spent their food money on drugs and art supplies; to her night-before-the-wedding panic over whether her religion is the one where you step on the glass; to her unfortunate overpreparation for the mandatory drug-screening urine test at work; to her audition as a Playboy centerfold as research for a newspaper story, Autobiography of a Fat Bride has the same zits-and-all candor and outrageous humor that made Idiot Girls an instant cult phenomenon.

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Author Information

Bio of Laurie Notaro

Laurie Notaro writes a weekly humor column for the Arizona Republic newspaper. She lives with her husband and pets in Phoenix, AZ.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Villard

Filesize

729.71 KB

Number of Pages

272

eBook ISBN

9781588362445

Excerpt from: Autobiography of a Fat Bride by Laurie Notaro

I am the sucker.

Ben ' s standing on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets; his hair, normally straight and elbow-length, is now appallingly cornrowed as his head hangs toward the ground because I ' ve caught him.

I ' ve caught him.

He ' s too goddamned scared to make a move and I don ' t blame him, because he ' s my boyfriend and I caught him, just now, packing up all of his crap into a piece-of-shit hippie van because he ' s running off to Seattle to follow his dream, which is growing pot, smoking it, and learning to play Neil Young ' s ' Old Man ' on an acoustic guitar in order to perform it as a birthday gift for his dad, a man he has never met.

He is running away.

With HER.

Turn to the right, there she is, standing behind the van, trying to hide from me; it ' s Dog Girl, his ex-girlfriend, dressed in a tremendous gauze dress and with matching cornrow hair.

' She made the curtains, ' he mutters, still looking at the sidewalk.

' WHAT ' I said, shaking my head.

' She made the curtains, ' he repeats. ' For the van. She sold her car and bought the van. '

For a moment, I ' m confused and I wonder about what I ' m supposed to do with this. Am I supposed to fight, and kick and scream, am I supposed to oppose it I have no idea, and I don ' t do anything. I just walk away.

' Don ' t you want to hit me ' he calls out.

' Don ' t you want to yell at me, tell me you hate me ' he yells to me.

I just shake my head, and keep walking.

' It ' s not you! ' he shouts one last time. ' It ' s me! '

That ' s enough to make me stop dead in my tracks.

' Really ' I ask as I spin around. ' Are you sure it ' s you Because that would make my day, just knowing that it was YOU and NOT ME, especially after I just caught you in the middle of an escape attempt. Is it you Is it really you, Ben '

' Well, I guess it ' s me a little bit, ' he stammers as Dog Girl peeks an eye out from behind the purple curtains as one of her hair ornaments chimes. ' But, well, if you really want to know, I ' d say that yeah, it ' s mostly you. '