Reading the memoirs of writers I like sometimes disappoints me (Anne LaMott, I'm looking at you), and other times it endears me to them even more. Anna Quindlen's musings about everything from love to motherhood to girlfriends to all the random things in her life, falls in the later category. The chapters are written like columns in a magazine - all about her life, but not chronological or straightforward. There were so many beautiful quotes here and there - many of them I could relate to in terms of learning to love myself and being so grateful for the support around me as I get older (and obviously wiser). Quindlen's observations are poignant and often quite clever. I thoroughly enjoyed a quiet afternoon with this book - and a reminder that while we can't always get what we want, it makes the most sense to throughly enjoy all that we have.
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