Ok, I’m sorry. I’m really behind in my blog posts. This was book number eight that I read, only I’m well and truly into book thirty now. The idea for the blog came after the renewed excitement to be reading again. So I wish I could share with you all the beautiful, poignant, witty remarks that Moran makes about being female. But I can’t, because I can’t remember them all, and I could never hope to capture her ideas so wonderfully as she does in this book.

I do remember reading this book and snorting drink out my nose. It was diet coke, actually, so the bubbles stung my nostrils. What exactly made me laugh so hard, I don’t recall, but I’m pretty restrained when I’m reading, so to send liquid flying out of my orifices, it must’ve been pretty funny.

The whole book is wonderful, and I’ve added heaps of Moran’s other titles to my Goodreads wish list, in the hope of recapturing that glorious, laugh (or snort) out loud moment that caught me off-guard with this one.

Don’t be mistaken, however. It’s not all laugh-snorting inducement material. Moran actually makes some really good points. I like her take on feminism. Feminism, with a capital F has become a dirty word, raising the eyebrows of the discerning woman, and getting the man-world’s back up instantly. I wouldn’t, prior to reading this, have called myself a ‘Feminist’, for fear of the societal judgment that comes from that label, but reading Moran’s book makes me very aware that of course, I am a feminist; if instead of accepting the stereotype of the bra-burning, butch hippy ‘Feminist’, and instead repaint for ourselves a definition far more inclusive, and far more likely to enact actual change in our daily lives.

Good work, Caitlin Moran. More please.

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