Don't look to me for leadership. Sometimes I let YouTube ads play until the end because I feel bad for them.

I got new reading glasses at the store and as they gently tried to bag them I said, "Don't worry. I'm just gonna sit on them in 3 days."

She wasn't much to look at. Her eyes were small, chin too big, eyebrows too pale. Oh, but to see her parallel par--to see her par--nope, crank it--I said CRANK--no, OTHER way--keep cranking--how did you pass a driving test?--curb--CURB. Jesus, finally. Oh, but to see her parallel park.

I have zero natural musical talent but I’m writing a song about driving in L.A. It’s called “Shithead In A Tesla On My Ass.”

This Friday's a full moon and total lunar eclipse. Any other ladies over this shit want to meet up at that weird pulsating stone circle that appeared in the Kroger parking lot and combine powers? I'll bring a spinach dip.

La Dolce Villa is #1 globally on @netflix.com for the second week in a row! So proud of our movie.

This Saturday the 22nd on @hallmark.bsky.social, SISTERHOOD, INC., written by me and Hilary Galanoy. Below is a tiny sneak preview! www.youtube.com/watch?v=85kB...

La Dolce Villa is #1 globally on @netflix.com! Thank you to all who have watched. Let's all go in on a villa together!

La Dolce Villa is currently #1 on Netflix! Thank you to all who have watched!

It's not every day your names are on a billboard in Times Square! La Dolce Villa, coming to Netflix this Thursday, 2/13!!

The air quality index in L.A. right now is "You smoked one, so Dad made you smoke the whole pack."

February 13th!

ME: Happy New Year, Dad. We love you. DAD: That's great. Hey, put the dog back on the phone. I got another joke for him.

I went to a Trader Joe's on New Year's Eve and the parking lot was like the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan.

All right, 2024. Call your mom to come pick you up.

I said to my husband, "I don't want to be on the freeway with all the New Year's drunks." And in that moment, the progress bar on my transformation into my dad reached 100%.

If multiple women sit separately in a food court, each quietly eating a salad, do not interrupt us. We are silently communicating through salads, like whale song.

We have a premiere date! LA DOLCE VILLA, co-written by me & Hilary Galanoy, will start streaming on Netflix Feb 13th. We're proud of this beautiful movie, and I even included my favorite story from my parents' first date. A few first look photos in the meantime...

Unless a sweating Slavic woman with safety pins in her mouth and a thousand curses under her breath didn't properly fit you, you're wearing the wrong sized bra.

Sorry I put aviator sunglasses on the baby Jesus in your nativity scene and started singing “Highway to the manger zone.”

every day I understand a little more why Arya Stark kept that list

It's Friday the 13th during Mercury in Retrograde, which means it's a terrible time to sign the lease on that lakeside cabin

Sorry I pretended I was drowning so you could see how incredible my hair looked underwater.

I'll host a Christmas party but only if a torrid secret emerges to jeopardize the serenity of our modest suburban street.

We should get residuals if we find out one of our movies is being used to train AI.

If I don't see two Toyota Siennas lock reindeer antlers over a Target parking space, what are the holidays even about?

Why does the best sleep you'll ever have happen in the 9 minute intervals on a iPhone snooze button?

No member of any family has the same interpretation of the sentence "We need to leave in ten minutes."

DOG: WHAT IS THAT? ME: Trash truck. It's Thursday. DOG: I WILL FIGHT IT. SET ME LOOSE. Me: This happens every Thursday. DOG: STILL READY TO FIGHT. Me: They're taking our garbage. ... ... ... DOG: Why would you give away perfectly good garbage?

I want to be wealthy enough to leave notes for the house-sitter like: "If the leopard gets lost in the hedge maze, play Sade and he'll find his way back."

Every woman's wardrobe needs: Black dress White blouse Pendant scavenged from the depths of a cursed pond that occasionally lets her set fires with her mind Jeans

Life is a constant balancing act between wondering why you weren't invited to something and wondering how to get out of it.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if two people are at Home Depot one of them is pissed about it.

I'd be fine with a ghost in the house if every time a message in blood appeared on a wall it was something helpful like YOUR KEYS ARE IN THE FRONT DOOR

ME: Do you ever get sad trying to remember the smell of the house you grew up in? DRIVE THRU SPEAKER: So that's one Diet Coke, no ice?

A posh woman asked where I got my boots and I didn't want to say TJ Maxx, so I told her I won them in a bar fight.

I want my house to be tidy enough so that if someone drops by unexpectedly it doesn't look like we're six days into battling a poltergeist.

If you dust off a seashell-shaped soap in the carpeted guest bathroom and put it up to your ear, you can hear a suburban Christmas party from 1988.

A 5-year-old stomped into a restaurant in a princess dress, held up her arms and shouted "I'M HERE." I just hired her to be my life coach.

Nobody works harder than a drunk person trying to carefully whisper a secret.

Anytime someone throws a Great Gatsby themed party, I have to assume they never finished the book.

I'm in the mood to nonchalantly slice and eat an apple off the end of a dagger like a lady pirate who just won the ship in a drinking contest.

I miss the old days when street gangs asserted their dominance through aggressive hair combing

My sister complimented another woman's yellow blouse, and she replied "Sometimes you need to bring your own sunshine." Filing that away for a bad day.

You don't need committees to solve things. Just find two women who are in a real mood about some shit and send them on an evening fitness walk.

It’s so hot that every time I try to speak all that comes out is a Tennessee Williams monologue.

My favorite part of looking back on childhood is trying to deduce which adults in charge were just barely keeping their shit together.

The backstory to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein puts unrealistic expectations on how much work you can accomplish in a vacation house.