If You Were Here

Every once in a while I get a new book (well…okay…that’s a big fat lie because I buy new books all the time)…but every once in a while I fall in L-O-V-E love with a book.  

My latest worship-worthy book is Jen Lancaster’s latest, If You Were Here.  

(Thank you for the cover shot, bn.com)

(And *yes* the title is snitched from that certain song, in that certain movie, that ends with them sitting on top of the dining room table with a birthday cake in the center.  “Make a wish,” he says.  Oh, Jake Ryan, you silly, extremely hot boy...“But it already came true.”)

Now I’ve been a fan of Jen’s non-fiction books for a while.  They are the kind of laugh-out-loud books that make me feel like I’m chatting with one of my very cool best friends (preferably over a bunch of cocktails). I had zero doubt that her fiction debut would be great, but have to say it’s *beyond*.  It’s still the same chatting-and-busting-a-gut-with-your-bestie-over-drinks just with a buttload of 80s references, pop culture nods and John Hughes on top.  And if for some insane reason, you are reading this and scratching your head and saying Jen-Lancaster-who, then after you read this post, go here.  Then go out and pick up her books.  ("Get" as in buy the physical book.  Please!  Save our bookstores...don't go all Nook on me!)

The short version of the story line (or at least this is what I can recap so far) is it’s the story of Mia and Mac, a married couple living in Chicago who decide it’s time to get out of their townhouse rental, in a slighty very sketchy part of town and head for the ‘burbs.   They sort of accidentally get into a prank war with a not-as-badass-as-he-thinks-he-is kid in their neighborhood.  (Vanilla Ice pops to my mind.  Or maybe AJ from Backstreet.)  Hijinks ensue. 

Case in point…Mac hangs a giant sheet sign (think Greek Week banner or the “I assure you, we’re open” sheet Dante hangs outside the convenience store in Clerks, if you will) that claims this kid wears girl’s underpants.  (In all fairness, out of context of this book I trust anyone reading this is thinking…”WTF?  This isn’t hysterical”.  Trust me.  It is.)  Moving on, you can take one guess on how well this panties-banner goes over with the wannabe.  (“Can I borrow you underpants for ten minutes?”) 

So first Ice Ice AJ attempts a drive-by shooting.  Didn’t go so well. Then he tries to throw a fire-ball bottle at their house.  Essentially I.I.A.J. couldn’t hit water if he fell out of an effing boat. (Thank you, Crash Davis.)  The prank-war keeps Mac and Mia crying tears of laughter for a while, but they also know it’s time to go.  After weeks and weeks of touring the suburbs with a Realtor (specifically the town of Abington Cambs where all John Hughes movies are based), Mia finds the holy grail of dream houses – Jake Ryan’s house. 

Well, fancy seeing you here...

Now I waxed on in an earlier post about my love for Jake Ryan, aka The Most Perfectest Guy To Have a First and Forever Crush On Ever.  I love that he’s frozen in time (and in my mind), standing next to his Porsche, waving.  Swoon!  In the book, Jake’s house is also pretty much frozen in time, an eighties nightmare of unrenovated, termite-infested, horribly decorated disaster.  Mia and Mac face a ton of renovations after sinking a ton of money into Mia’s teenage fantasy.  (She too is a Jake Ryan/John Hughes obsessed kind of gal.)  Let more hijinks ensue. 

And that’s as far as I’ve gotten.

Now I realize I haven’t done the pitch-perfect humor and sarcasm of the book an ounce of justice.  But I swear it’s in there.  Plus any author who can find a way to work in references to Charles in Charge, Vince Vaughn, The Jeffersons, Alanis and every life-altering John Hughes movie, find a reason to have to explain why even a maxi pad stuffed in a Gatorade bottle wouldn’t have helped the wannabe thug make a successful fire bomb, while simultaneously completely relaying the emotionally and physically draining drudgery of looking for a place to live, packing and moving, in a pee-in-my-pants hysterical way is ahh-may-zing to me. 

Add in that Jen Lancaster’s main character openly bashes the crap out of Twilight and Stephanie Meyer and also affectionately refers to herself as “the second coming of Hasselhoff” and, well, she will forever be on my bookshelf and have a place in my book-loving heart.  Love.  Love.  Love.

Now I have to say that the John Hughes references alone were enough to make me happy.  Any excuse to relive the movies that completely defined my teen years is fine by me.  (I also, maybe, might have totally watched some old Dawson’s Creek eps this weekend.  You know the rule.  Don’t judge my TV watching habits.)  But everything in those movies…from to the characters to the music to the clothes to the very hope for the happy ending left such a mark on my little black heart.  Those movies gave me the hope that the happily ever after could be a reality.  More specifically, *my* reality.

Sixteen Candles made me believe that hot, cool guys did fall for the shy, not genetically perfect girls.  It also made me wish I had an amazing attic bedroom.

Pretty In Pink gave me the Rave-Ups. (When they played at the 90210 prom many years later I was the only one of my friends who knew them.  This is one of the songs from that ep, though I resisted using the actual 90210 clip.  But I still love you Brenda, and your dress with the giant bow that I may have possibly, totally tried to mimic for a college formal.)  

Pretty In Pink also gave me a short-lived feeling that maybe I could make my own clothes like Andie, made me long for a cool friend like Iona (love her pre-Terrence style), kind of made me want to work in a record store and once again, gave the very awkward teen (*me*) the hope that the girl got the supposedly ungettable guy.  (Though in hindsight I’m disappointed that Blane didn’t stand up to Steff.  The Andrew McCarthy who showed up in Lipstick Jungle as the ruthless bazillionaire businessman who was so cold and focused on his own success would’ve manned up for sure.   I’m also pretty sure Andrew M. played some kind of perv in SVU at some point and that guy definitely would’ve put Steff in his place.  And maybe locked him in his basement or in a secret room or something creepy.  Just saying.  Though James Spader did uber-asshole so very very well!) 

(Courtesy of IMDB.com)

The Breakfast Club made me long for a life-altering day in detention (I know…I was a nerd) and for the dreamy jock to see something in me that no one else saw.  I also really just wanted to rock out to Karla DeVito’s “We Are Not Alone” and then get a full-on makeover.  I must confess I stole some of Molly Ringwald’s dance moves and busted them out at many a junior high dances.  (Man, I thought I was the cat’s ass.) And I seriously lusted her outfit and tried to recreate it for many years to come.  (Still trying.  I mean such great boots!  And that skirt.  And the leather jacket.  And her hair.  LOVE.)

But I have to say, Some Kind of Wonderful blew me away. I’m sure part of it was timing, in that I was old enough to “get it”.  (A lot of Breakfast Club went over my head when I first saw it.  The whole smoking pot thing was so lost on me it’s not even funny.) Part of the SKOW lure was the feeling that I was always the *friend* and never the Amanda Jones.  I wished I could be as cool as Watts when I grew up - go to clubs to see bands like Flesh for LuLu and play the drums.  I had my hair quasi-cut like Watts (except mine was brown and I still had braces and a lot of baby fat going on) and I wished, hoped, prayed for a Keith (never really was into Eric Stoltz though, which I can probably blame on Mask)…but rather my own boy-BFF that I would fall in love with, to tell me that I looked good wearing his future.  Cue the soundtrack.

Best.  Version.  Ever.  And this entire album played endlessly in my teenage bedroom. (It took turns with Pretty In Pink.)  Sigh!  Listening to it now takes me right back.

So that’s my story.   Remembering that every once in a while, if you’re really lucky, you see a movie or hear a song or read a book that leaves a mark on you.  That defines a moment or helps remind you of a defining moment. 

I’m going to get back to reading, slowly, because I really, really don’t want this book to end.  The good news is I can always reread it.  Which I will.  Because just like the movie soundtracks it’s that damn good. 

And for my final trick...I just can't resist....such an amazing song.  Thank you, Rave-Ups!