Bathtubs and Bossypants

There are few material things I really long for in life. Not just desire on a passing whim when I see it in an ad--but really, truly want to complete my life. One is a dishwasher.

The second is this bathtub:

I've stopped writing funny things. I don't know when exactly that happened, or why. I think it's because I try to write like someone I'm not. Someone who oozes poetry from their fingertips. I'm not that girl. Never have been.

In college, I had a professor who noted I only wrote humorous short stories and personal essays. So the next thing I turned in was a dramatic mess about my senior year of high school. In red, she scripted across the top, "I was wrong. Stick to funny."

When I was younger, in my heart of hearts, my deepest desire (maybe even more so than owning that bathtub), was to write for SNL. I didn't want to be poet laureate, I wanted to be Tina Fey.

But at some point in the last few months (years maybe?) I've sort of resigned my writing life to press releases and fact sheets. I've been content that I have a "writing job." It's not the dream writing job, but it's close. And it's got incredible perks.

It's still not well accepted for women to be funny. Despite the valiant efforts of Tiny Fey, Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch, Maya Rudolph, and Kristen Wiig. My own husband believes that women are never funny. I've felt very much like my writing has no place in this world. I hate writing anything over a few pages. I'm not meant to write a book. But maybe, just maybe I could string together a few disjointed short stories.

All of this to say, I loved Tina Fey's book. She is who I want to write like--she's already who I write like. Her book was random stories, some specific, some general. Some funny, some messy. The final chapter about her decision to have a second child was like an unedited, raw journal entry--a bit all over the place, yet feeling just right. The prayer for her daughter: gold. She gives me hope for the weird girl with no place for her writing.

I only wish I could have read it while sitting in the aforementioned bathtub.