how did jill soloway get inside my head?

Why, I read her book, Tiny Ladies in Shiny Pants by Jill Soloway, thanks to my savvy writer friend, Bonita, who loaned me the slim, immensely enjoyable volume that's a hybid: part memoir, part personal essay, part rant. And rant Soloway does, but it's all laugh-to-yourself hilarious (I never found myself chortling aloud, but in my mind I was chuckling, and saying, "Yeah, you're dead right about that."). Soloway, who was a co-executive producer for HBO's Six Feet Under, lives in L.A., but she grew up Jewish in Chicago, and that's why I think I can so relate to her view of things.

For instance, Soloway spends an entire chapter! deconstructing women who use disposable toilet-seat covers (gotta love it). I've always found those things befuddling -- what are you going to catch from the back of someone else's thighs -- but she digs deep into the subject. The woman hits on all kinds of pet peeves and some of them may be yours. A recommended, laugh-filled distraction.