I mean, I get it. If I got to watch the Stanley Cup finals from the owner’s box in a personalized jersey, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops too. I guess I was expecting something more akin to Yes, Please – more, ‘how I got here’ memoir, less ‘what I’ve done since’ – and that threw me. It got a little too name-drop-y, if that makes sense? But if I was doing shots out of a Grammy with Daveed Diggs … yeah, I’d probably dedicate a whole chapter in my book to talking about that, too.
I picked up So Close To Being The Sh*t, Y’all Don’t Even Know because I’m a big Parks and Rec fan and a total ride-or-die Donna Meagle fan (the Meagles are a cold people). The woman has a gorgeous lake house she hordes even from her friends, devotes an annual holiday to ‘treat yo self’, and knows the proper name of Thor’s hammer. She is my people. And the way Retta writes is very close to the way Donna speaks and I appreciate that, I can hear her reading it aloud in my head. Which might be my other problem with these type of memoirs. I’m a fast reader, people are slow talkers. The disconnect makes me twitchy.
I mostly learned in this book that I should probably follow Retta on twitter because she is (literally) a professional live-tweeter (no word on whether she’s actually live-tweeted Death Canoe 4). Also, I really want to do shots out of the Grammy with Daveed Diggs.