I find it difficult to even translate my feelings about this book into words. I think I hated it, but I couldn’t stop reading it either? The blurb on the back cover isn’t really an accurate reflection in my opinion. Funny? Maybe, although the only thing I found particularly amusing was the narrator’s obsession with Whoopi Goldberg and the true nonsense offered by Dr. Tuttle. Tender, compassionate? No, I wouldn’t say so. The protagonist is truly unlikeable, which I don’t hate, but doesn’t lend itself to a “tender” or “compassionate” read. She doesn’t provoke any level of sympathy for me. 

The narrator is vapid, gross, entirely self-absorbed. Her best friend is actually quite sweet. It’s interesting to read from the unpleasant character’s perspective. There’s just no plot, only a premise. The ending was lacking anything spectacular, which I guess is fitting since nothing spectacular happens throughout. 

I enjoyed the author’s style of writing and prose. I just can’t really say how much I enjoyed the book overall? I’m really torn on this one.