One would think that with her impressive list of bestselling self-improvement memoirs Jen Lancaster would have it all together by now. One would be wrong. After all, she’s no Martha Stewart. And that’s why Jen is going to Martha up and live her life according to the advice of America’s overachieving older sister—the woman who turns lemons into lavender-infused lemonade. By immersing herself in Martha’s media empire, Jen embarks on a yearlong quest to take herself, her house, her husband (and maybe even her pets) to the next level—from closet organization to party planning. Maybe Jen can avoid food poisoning if she follows Martha’s dictates on proper storage. Maybe she can rid her workout clothes of meatball stains by using Martha’s laundry tips. Maybe she can create a more meaningful anniversary celebration than getting drunk in the pool with her husband. Again. And maybe she’ll discover that the key to happiness does, in fact, lie in Martha’s perfectly arranged cupboards and charcuterie platters. Praise for Jen Lancaster “A modern-day, bawdy Erma Bombeck.”—Lisa Lampanelli, New York Post “A laugh riot.”— Chicago Sun-Times “She’s like that friend who always says what you’re thinking—just 1,000 times funnier.”— People  "Readers will find it easy to root for the frank and funny heroine of this winsome, whimsical tale. Lancaster’s downright fun novel is chick lit at its best." -- Booklist (starred review) “Jen Lancaster has a sense of humor as sharp as the teeth of those little alligators on her beloved Lacoste shirts.”— The Charlotte Observer “Scathingly witty and lots of fun.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review) “A perfect summer read.”— USA Today “Rapier-sharp wit.”—Joshilyn Jackson, New York Times bestselling author “[Details] what it’s like to be large, in charge, and totally hilarious.”— Metro “A bittersweet treat for anyone who’s ever survived the big city.”—Jennifer Weiner, #1 New York Times bestselling author “The woman is nothing if not spunky.”— The Washington Post “The funniest new author from the blogosphere.”—Jessica Cutler, author of The Washingtonienne Jen Lancaster is the New York Times bestselling author of eight books inluding Here I Go Again , Jeneration X , If You Were Here , My Fair Lazy , Pretty in Plaid ,  Bright Lights Big Ass, and Such a Pretty Fat. She has appeared on Today , The Joy Behar Show , and NPR’s All Things Considered . She resides in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband and their ever-expanding menagerie of ill-behaved pets. ONE Resolved Welcome to Holiday Central! The candles are lit, the Christmas carols cranked, and the buffet is laden with each of my best dishes—pasta with Bolognese sauce, of course, short-rib ragout, Italian brisket with rosemary horseradish, both Caprese and kale salads, the kind of antipasto platter that would bring Mr. Frank Sinatra himself to his knees, a traditional three-meat lasagna, and a roasted-red-pepper version, because my friend Julia “doesn’t like cow.” The desserts I’m serving require their own separate table, stacked high with apple pies from the elegant Farmer and Blue owl (an Oprah’s “favorite thing”), Kahlúa cake, and ten varieties of homemade Christmas cookies. The wine’s flowing, the guests are mingling, and all the dogs are dancing around in their festive jingle-bell collars wearing perma-grins because ain’t no table scrap like a party table scrap ’cause a party table scrap don’t stop. (Ten points for you if you caught The Office reference.) The house itself couldn’t be more festive. Each mantel is decked with piles of greenery and lights, and the tree is so big and lush, it takes up a quarter of the living room. Outside is a veritable winter wonderland, with enough LED strings to almost, but not quite, cross the border into Christmas Vacation territory. I’m overcome by the miasma of Fraser fir, San Marzano tomatoes, and the spicy cinnamon tang of the rose hips in all the potpourri bowls. In the dining room, a couple of guests are laughing so hard that the walls practically shake. This is the perfect holiday dinner party. And yet all I can think is, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE . Let’s take a step back—we have wonderful friends and we love entertaining. We bought this house (gun cabinet notwithstanding) because we knew it would be the ideal place for gatherings both great and small. When we left the city, we moved away from ninety-five percent of our social circle, so every time our peeps actually RSVP yes, we’re thrilled to have the opportunity to host them. Plus, tonight’s extraspecial, because our buddies Beef-free Julia and Finch are up from Atlanta. The problem definitely isn’t the guest list. The problem is that my ambitions are greater than my abilities, so in order to get this shindig together, I put in three eighteen-hour days in a row and now I’m freaking exhausted. As I watch dirty plates stack up and wineglasses multiply, I just feel weary. I don’t ha