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Also by Ellen DeGeneres
My Point…And I Do Have One
SIMON & SCHUSTER
Rockefeller Center
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Copyright © 2003 by Crazy Monkey, Inc.
All rights reserved,
including the right of reproduction
in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON & SCHUSTER and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Designed by Jaime Putorti
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7432-5366-6
ISBN-10: 0-7432-5366-3
Visit us on the World Wide Web:
http://www.SimonSays.com
Acknowledgments
This book is not only a labor of love but a legal, contractual agreement. Writing a book is not like writing for an HBO special. It’s different. There’s punctuation:-!?, spelling, and grammar. It’s hard work, and this would not be the book it is without the following people.
First and foremost, Rob Weisbach, my editor (for two books now), and still a friend. Eric Gold, Eddy Yablans, Harley Neuman, and Kevin Yorn, my peeps and my posse. Karen Kilgariff, Karen Anderson, Andrea Levin, my muses. Alex Herschlag, my longtime friend and supporter. Craig Peralta, my savior. Betty and Elliott DeGeneres, my creators, and Alexandra Hedison, my inspiration. And all of my fans for the love and support.
Thank you all.
Table of Contents
A Message from the Author
The Brunch Bunch
That’s Why Prison Wouldn’t Be So Bad
My Most Embarrassing Case Scenario
God, What a Day!
Gift Exchange,
or, The Art of Believable Acting
Silence Is Golden
Making Your Life Count
(and Other Fun Things to Do with Your Time!)
This Is How We Live
Penny-pinching for Today’s Gal, or,
How to Land a Man
Working It Out
Smartishness
The Things That Are Bothering Me This Week
My Dad Was Like a Father to Me
The Serious Chapter
The Controversial Chapter
The Chapter of Apologies
Dear Diary
A Scientific Treatise Regarding a Matter of Great
Entomological Concern to All of Us
It’s Just an Expression
Clothes I Have Regretted Wearing
Naming My Book: The Odyssey
That Was Then or Then Was That or Anyway,
It Was Before Now
Ellen’s Personal Home Tour
Things to Be Grateful For
My Self-Conscious,
or, Check Me Out!
The Last Chapter
Bonus Chapter
A Message from the Author
Hello, and welcome to my new book. Please make yourself at home while you read it: Take off your shoes, loosen your pants, make those funny at-home faces that we all make. Be comfortable. On the other hand, if you’re reading this in a more public place—a plane, a train, a jurors’ box during a trial—it might serve you better to be a little less comfortable. Oh, and if you’re reading this while you’re driving, PUT THE BOOK AWAY! YOU’RE DRIVING, FOR PETE’S SAKE! But wherever you’re reading this book, please remember to turn off your cell phone and that the taking of flash photographs is strictly forbidden.
Now, you may want to know why I’m writing this book. Well, there are a number of very good reasons, most of which I forgot the moment I sat down to write. I have a vague recollection of losing a bet to Al Roker, so that may be one of the reasons. Also, I don’t have anything to do for a year as I wait to start my new talk show. People have suggested that I simply enjoy the time off—I’ll be wishing for this next year. People (different people—not the same ones) have also suggested I read books.
The fact is, I’d rather write a book than read a book. It’s like reading, only you get paid for it. Otherwise, it has all the same elements. I don’t know what’s on the next page. It’s suspenseful, yet I can control where it goes. It’s like interactive reading. Besides, I’ve already read books. A lot of them. Well, definitely more than seven.
One thing that you should know if you ever get tired of reading books and decide to write one on your own (I would suggest doing this only and I mean only after you finish this book): writing a book is hard work. You can’t just sit there staring at the computer screen and wait for words to magically appear. Believe me—I tried doing that for five months and I didn’t get a single word.
Suddenly, all this talk about “writing a book” is making me feel overwhelmed. I need to take a break. Excuse me.
Okay, I’m back. I went to brush my teeth (just three of them—I never do them all at once). That, by the way, is an excellent way to pass the time. Hygiene is important anyway, as we all know. So take your time and brush, then floss. Flossing is key. You must floss. Don’t even think for a second that you can get away with not flossing. Always floss. I can’t stress it enough. If you get nothing else from this book, I hope you not only think to yourself “I must floss,” but pass it along to loved ones and acquaintances—floss, floss, floss. Now, what was I saying?
Oh yes, Why another book?
Seriously, why? There are so many books already. What could I possibly have to say that needs to be read by millions or at least hundreds of people? Perhaps you’re reading this to get never-before-revealed insights into who I am as a person. If so, here’s a good one for you, right off the bat: If anyone knows me at all, they know I enjoy the smell of a freshly washed monkey.
Or perhaps you’re hoping to learn a thing or two. I have no brand-new words to put out there (unless you count “fuzlart,” which between you and me is a made-up word), no insights on the meaning of life or even how to be content most of the time.
I have been interested in some deeper meaning of this existence for a long time. I assume we all are, judging by the sales of books devoted to helping us find the answers. I have all of them, but I haven’t found one that says anything very different. They all sort of say the same thing.
I suppose I could put down my own ideas of what I think would be at least a good start for happiness, if you’re interested. Oh, you are? Okay then.
1. Be nice to everyone, even though you don’t want to and you may not like certain people. Be kind, friendly, and respectful even if people are not nice to you. That way, you’re not dragged down to their level. Also, there’s nothing that annoys arrogant jerks more than people being nice to them.
2. Floss, every day floss. As discussed. In addition to aforementioned perks, flossing encourages healthy gums and makes your teeth feel secure when they’re eating something difficult like apples or corn on the cob.
3. Try to have some quiet time every day. I know it’s hard, don’t tell me. It’s getting to be near impossible to find silence, what with the TV, radio, kids, leaf blowers, helicopters, traffic, birds, dogs barking, your grammy yelling from the back of the car, “Stop flossing, you’re going to get us all killed!!!” (Seriously, when I told you not to read while you were driving, I didn’t mean you should floss instead.) But try to put time aside to listen to “you.” It’s easy to forget what “you” want, who “you” are, with all the noise. Check
in with “you” every day (or at least on New Year’s Eve).
4. Exercise. Any form of movement will do. Stretching keeps you limber, young, and energized. My favorite exercise is walking a block and a half to the corner store to buy fudge. Then I call a cab to get back home. (There’s never a need to overdo anything.)
5. Drink lots of water. I can’t function unless I drink a lot of water. My favorite way to drink water is to put it in a tray, make ice cubes, then put one of those cubes into a big ol’ glass of scotch. Let’s have some now, shall we?
Thinking back (a good thing to do while drinking scotch), I knew I wanted to write this book because I’ve always loved writing, especially cursive. It’s so pretty, all the loops and whatnot. I thought about having this entire book printed in capital letters, so, as the narrator, IT WOULD SEEM LIKE I’M SHOUTING THE WHOLE TIME. I LIKE THE IDEA OF ME SHOUTING INSIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S HEADS. IT MAKES ME FEEL POWERFUL.
You know, it’s hard work to write a book. I can’t tell you how many times I really get going on an idea, then my quill breaks. Or I spill ink all over my writing tunic. No wonder I drink so much! Then I get so drunk, I can barely feed the baby.
That’s what I call myself when I’m drunk, “The Baby.”
Okay, I’m putting the drink down. Back to the happiness list…
6. Know you are special. How do you know that? Because you bought this book. You are already two steps ahead of the losers who didn’t buy this book. They aren’t special. When they finally do buy this book, then they too will be special because they have chosen this book, but you will still be two or three or even more steps ahead. Just know when you buy this book, you’re ahead. Imagine being the last person to buy this book. I pray that doesn’t happen to anyone. If word keeps spreading about the magical powers of this book, the joy it gives, the wonders, the life-affirming, the life-changing results of reading this book, no one will ever be last. It will be sold forever and ever and that will make me happy.
7. The key to life is balance. Think of a seesaw. On one side is Give, the other side Take. If you just give and give and give, you’ve got nothing left. You’re empty. Which means you don’t weigh anything because empty equals weightless; so Take is just sitting on the ground bored out of its mind saying, “I’m bored, I can’t take anymore of this,” which is a pretty strong statement since that’s what Take’s job is. It is to take. And if Take can’t take anymore, then well, I think you see my point. And the same goes for taking too much. If you keep taking and taking and taking, you get loaded down. Taking equals heavy. So Give is stranded way up in the air saying, “Hey, I’m way up in the air.” And then Take is like, “So?” And Give is like, “I hate you. All you do is take.” And Take is like, “You’re the stupid poopoohead for giving all the time.” And Take gets off the seesaw to leave and Give goes crashing to the ground and then Take feels bad and rushes over to see if Give is okay and then they hug and start crying and both apologize for being so selfish. So you see, it needs to be balanced.
8. Minimize stress. When I’m stressed out, I get so stressed. When I’m relaxed, it’s a whole different story. I find that life can be difficult. Also, when certain events occur, it can bring on stress. Small things—a car accident, let’s say—can change your whole mood. Everything can be going just fine. You’re at home feeling cozy, watching TV. You suddenly remember you’re running low on ice cream, jump in your Cutlass Supreme, and you’re singing along to some classic Hall & Oates song, and Bam!! Right into the back of some idiot’s car. What are they doing stopped there anyway? It’s a stop sign, not a red light. You’re not supposed to sit there forever. And all the questions start flying at you. Do you have insurance? Have you been drinking? Why are you in your pajamas? Wow, people are nosy. No wonder I rarely leave the house. It’s a jungle out there.
9. Start thinking positively. You will notice a difference. Instead of “I think I’m a loser,” try “I definitely am a loser.” Stop being wishy-washy about things! How much more of a loser can you be if you don’t even know you are one? Either you are a loser or you are not. Which is it, stupid?
10. Don’t look in the mirror…ever.
11. Work, but have playtime. Recess. We lose our play, our fun, all of our joy. We used to say, “Mom, I’m going out to play.” Now it’s, “Honey, I’m going off to work.” We don’t see a forty-five-year-old man saying, “I’m going out to play.” If he did, his girlfriend or boyfriend would say, “What the heck does that mean? No you won’t.” You don’t see a grown-up squatting on the ground with a stick poking at ants. If you do, you cross the street. You walk far away from them. You don’t see adults lying in the grass staring at the sky saying, “I see bunny rabbits.” That is, unless they’re on drugs.
So there you have it, your very own book on the keys to happiness, courtesy of me.
Whew, it’s a relief that’s over. I tell you, writing a book is a bear! Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. But before I say “good night,” let me—Oh, excuse me, that’s the phone. Let me get it, in case it’s important. So, I’m putting you on hold…now.
Okay, I’m back. That was my editor. Apparently they want this book to be more than eight pages. I guess I’ve got a little work to do. Suddenly I’m not so happy anymore. I’d better reread this chapter.
And perchance, floss.
The Brunch Bunch
I’m exhausted. Today is Monday, so of course that means yesterday was Sunday, which naturally means the weekly Sunday brunch at my house. I can’t even remember how or when we started this darn thing, but it is Ka-ray-zee with a capital “K.” You never know what’s going to happen, who’s going to say what, or who will show up with whom.
Everybody brings something, so I don’t have to do all of the cooking. It’s a big relief, especially since I can’t cook. I guess if I did cook one Sunday, that would end the whole tradition once and for all. But even though everyone brings a dish, it’s still a lot of people and a lot of cleanup. We have the regulars—Paula Abdul, Diane Sawyer, Gloria Steinem, Donatella Versace, Ed Begley Jr., and Eminem—but occasionally someone will bring a guest.
Yesterday Diane Sawyer showed up with Siegfried or Roy (I’m not sure which one). He was wearing something sparkly and kept calling me “darling.” He was sweet. One more guest would have been okay except that Paula brought her dry cleaner, who also called me “darling.” I don’t think a dry cleaner should call me “darling.” He should just call me what everyone else calls me: Miss Ellen. He brought Häagen-Dazs (which was completely melted, and you know you can’t refreeze that stuff or it gets gross).
Next, Ed walked in with Tara Lipinski, the skater, who was wearing a skating outfit, which I thought was weird. I made a joke, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have a rink.”
She said, rather flatly, “I’m not skating.” Then, after a long silence that made everyone uncomfortable, the dry cleaner asked if he could use my “little girls’ room.”
So Eminem said, “What are you, a little girl? Are you a little bitch?”
“Em.” (I call him “Em.” I even call him “Auntie Em,” like from the Wizard of Oz, and he laughs—sometimes.) “Em,” I said, “don’t start.” He went back to pouring his gazpacho into a soup tureen.
Ed apologized for being late and not calling to alert us that he was bringing an extra guest. He didn’t think it would be a big deal, not realizing that a few other people would do the same thing, which, in turn, turned it into a big deal. I just don’t have the seating to accommodate nine people. I have a table for six and if one extra shows up, we squeeze in. But now three people would have to eat at the coffee table in the next room, which was awkward, like eating at the kids’ table at Christmas or Thanksgiving. Who would it be?
Gloria said she would sit in the other room but not with Eminem. (They don’t get along.) Ed offered to join Gloria, but no one else offered. I was just about to volunteer when Diane said she would eat at the coffee table, but only if
I promised to play darts with her when brunch was over. I knew she’d say that. Diane Sawyer is really good at darts. Like weirdly good. We played once while we were on summer vacation in Scotland and she beat every man at the Hound and Strumpet pub in Glasgow. It was great in retrospect, but at the time, it felt kind of dangerous. Anyway, I was left to sit and eat with Donatella Versace, Siegfried or Roy, Paula Abdul, Paula Abdul’s dry cleaner, Tara Lipinski, and Eminem.
For the first twenty minutes we ate in silence, with the exception of the dry cleaner remarking, “This gazpacho is heavenly.” He pronounced “gazpacho” with a soft “g,” (“jazpacho”), not a hard “g,” the way it should be pronounced. I don’t care where you’re from (and I’m pretty sure he was from Canada), there’s no reason you can’t get it right.
Every time he said it (I think nine times in twenty minutes), I thought Eminem was going to explode. It was almost as if the dry cleaner was mocking Em’s gazpacho—and it’s his special recipe! He brings it every week. After the third or fourth time the dry cleaner said “jazpacho,” I said, “It’s good gazpacho” saying it correctly with the hard “g,” hoping he’d realize his stupid mistake, but he just kept on as if I was saying it wrong. Even Donatella Versace says it right and she says everything wrong.
Well, when conversation finally began to flow, it was not pleasant. It started harmlessly enough with Siegfried or Roy asking why Paula hangs out with her dry cleaner. Were they friends beforehand and now he just happens to dry-clean her clothes? Did they start chatting when she went to pick up her “outfits,” as he called them? And if so, why wouldn’t her assistant pick up her “outfits”? Paula just stared at Siegfried or Roy with this kind of knowing smile, like she was “onto him”—you know, the way Paula does. Well, this unnerved everyone and I think the dry cleaner got a little defensive on Paula’s behalf. He started questioning Siegfried or Roy on his own “outfits” and from there it led to why Tara Lipinski was wearing her “outfit.” Tara didn’t understand what he was talking about. It’s all she ever wears.