I have been waiting months for Jen Lancaster's latest memoir, Jeneration X, to come out. From the moment I discovered Bitter is the New Black, I was hooked. Jen's books have made me laugh out loud. They've made tears run down my cheeks.
Until this one. It was funny, but I never laughed out loud once. I still love Jen, but I think that maybe I'm having a harder time identifying with--and being amused by--her exploits now that we're both in our mid-40s, than I did when I was a 40 year old reading about her adventures in her twenties. Maybe it's harder to be really funny about a cushy life in an up-scale Chicago suburb than about the stuff she was dealing with before. Some of her stories seem to be retreads. Or maybe it's just me.
I'll still buy her next one, hoping to find the laughs again, but this one was a disappointment.