Chicklit: Is everyone hanging out without me?
janvier 31, 2012
Titre: Is everyone hanging out without me? (and other concerns)
Auteur: Mindy Kaling
J'ai reçu à Noël, de la part de Husband, deux livre d'auto-fiction. Celui-ci est l'un deux.
Le livre se présente comme en étant un d'humour, rempli d'essais littéraires, de short stories et c'est exactement ce qu'il nous donne.
C'est le genre de chicklit à laquelle je n'étais pas du tout préparée mais qui m'a complètement transportée. C'est bourré d'anecdotes (qui souvent ont un lien avec l'émission The Office, pour laquelle elle écrit et performe également), de listes et d'explications sur la vie.
J'ai beaucoup aimé, j'ai déjà hâte de le relire. sincèrement.
Je suis contente de l'avoir eu parce que c'est le genre de livre qui paraît super bien sur le coin de ma table de chevet (J'veux dire... regarde sa robe!) et j'aurais définitivement été déçue de devoir le retourner à la bibliothèque au bout de 3 semaines.
Voici un extrait (mais sincèrement, j'aurais pu prendre n'importe quelle page et j'aurais probablement fait mon point quand même).
someone explain one-night stands to me
I have never had a one night stand. Apparently this is impossibly lame. Every romantic comedy I watch depicts our adorable heroine walking sheepishly back from a stranger’s place in the morning, with bedhead and her eyeliner all sexy and smudged. The problem is, I don’t understand the allure of the one-night stand at all. Here’s why: in my mind, the sexiest thing in the world is the feeling that you’re wanted. The slightly nervous asking of your phone number. The text message asking you for dinner. The simple overture of wanting me can satisfy my ego for a good long time. The sexual situation that could come of it? Well, that’s just less appealing to me. I don’t mean to say I don’t enjoy sex; I’m a properly functioning mammal and everything. I just think, like, who is this guy? Don’t you need to know some more about a guy than an evening’s worth of conversation at a bar to make sex appealing?
Also: safety. And actually, I don’t even mean sexual health safety, like STDs, I mean like good old-fashioned life-and-death safety. Here’s what I can’t wrap my brain around. I barely talk to strangers (a habit I started as a child which has served me well through my adulthood). So the idea of going to a stranger’s house at night, or having that stranger over to my house sounds insanely dangerous. These fears have made it so that when my female friends talk to me about one-night stands, I’m an incredibly irritating listener.
Excited sexually-liberated friend: so, then it was like 2 a.m. that same night, and he knocked on my apartment door. i was in my robe and nothing else—
Me: no underwear?
Excited sexually-liberated friend: No. I said “nothing else.”
Me (Skeptical): i feel like you were wearing underwear. That’s how you are in, like, repose?
Excited sexually-liberated friend: Yes. so he knocked at the door—
Me: Wait! Sorry. I’m just realizing: Your doorman let him up without ever seeing him before? Doesn’t that disturb you that your doorman would just let any old person off the street up to your apartment? I would give my doorman a book of photos of accepted guests that he could reference -
Excited sexually-liberated friend: I’m doing fine with my doorman.
Me: I would’ve established a different procedure.
Excited sexually-liberated friend: Great, Mindy. and then I showed him around the place -
Me: The doorman? (off, annoyed look) The guy! The guy! Yes.
Excited sexually-liberated friend: He was into the way decorated it. really taking it in.
Me: He was casing the joint!
Excited sexually-liberated friend: No! He was not casing the joint. He was being sexy and sweet and making cute little jokes about family photos. And then he asked if he could see my bedroom—
Me: Your bedroom, so he could rape you!
Excited sexually-liberated friend: No! He wasn’t trying to rape me. I was into it. So we go to my bedroom and he takes off his coat—
Me: And he had a tranquilizer syringe and tried to drug you and rape you and murder you like in Copycat!
My friend gets so irritated at my constant interruptions that she stops telling her sexy story, soon enough, after I’ve pointed out all the opportunities that could’ve resulted in her being killed. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing about it. Look, I don’t want to come off as prim or that I hate Samantha from Sex and the City or whatever. I would feel sad if I didn’t have my sexually-liberated Friend there to tell me fun, frank tales of desires fulfilled. I just don’t get it at all. So, this is what I’m like: if you come over to my house, I need to know your first and last name. I need to have your phone number and a person who we both know so you can’t disappear forever in case you murder me. Ultimately, it comes down to this: How embarassing would it be for me to be talking to a detective at a precinct after you tried to rape and murder me in my home, and not be able to tell them your name or any information about you because we were having a one-night stand? I’ve seen Law & Order: SVU, I know how it works.
Ça m'a ouvert les yeux sur une nouvelle structure de livre de fille. Quoique mes profs de français doivent se rouler dans leur tombe à l'idée que j'écrive moi-même un roman québécois du genre... Je me sens quant à moi super inspirée!
NaNa xo
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