Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)

by Mindy Kaling

  “Okay, enough of this,” my dad said, and headed up the stairs to shuffle me off to bed.

  “We’re only on Friedrich! There are five more Von Trapp children!” I said. This fell on deaf ears. My parents were supportive of my creativity but did not have a lot of patience for whimsy with zero production value. They had stuff to do.

  The point is I learned nothing from this experience. Yes, if I’m at a party where I’m not enjoying myself, I will put some cookies in my jacket pocket and leave without saying good-bye. But when I’m having a great time? I like ’em nice and drawn out, Von Trapp–style. I could say good-bye all day. Like a guy putting on his shoes.

  Before I leave, I thought I’d answer any remaining questions you might have.

  So, you never won any childhood spelling bees? I was under the impression this was a memoir of a spelling bee champ.

  It is confusing, I know. Based on my ethnicity, the number of friends I had as a kid, my build, my eyesight, and my desire to please my parents, I should have been the reigning spelling bee champion from ages seven to fourteen. My best guess at an explanation is that my parents were worried I would be just too good a speller and a potential kidnap prospect for anyone watching the Scripps National Spelling Bee on CSPAN-3 in the middle of the afternoon.

  Why didn’t you talk about whether women are funny or not?

  I just felt that by commenting on that in any real way, it would be tacit approval of it as a legitimate debate, which it isn’t. It would be the same as addressing the issue of “Should dogs and cats be able to care for our children? They’re in the house anyway.” I try not to make it a habit to seriously discuss nonsensical hot-button issues.

  What will your next book be about?

  I hope my next book will be about my husband, my kids, my cool movie career, and sharing all the things I learned about since I wrote this book. Like, I’d love to know where my natural lip line is. I still have no clue. Maybe by then I’ll have figured that out.

  Anything else?

  Not really. I just, I don’t want to say good-bye.

  See you guys soon.

  Love,

  Mindy

  Acknowledgments

  I’D LIKE TO THANK my sweet and funny friends who helped me with this. They are: Jeremy Bronson, Danny Chun, Alexis Deane, Lena Dunham, Brent Forrester, Dan Goor, Charlie Grandy, Steve Hely, Carrie Kemper, Ellie Kemper, Paul Lieberstein, Danielle Moffett, Sophia Rossi, Deb Schoeneman, Mike Schur, and Deborah Tarica. Quick-witted Ava Tramer was an all-star of organization with the demeanor of a doe. B. J. Novak was a terrific friend and editor, giving me sound notes like “Hey, Mindy, I think you sound kind of racist here. I would be really careful about not sounding racist in your book.” Greg Daniels has been key to just about everything I’ve done these past eight years. He’s the best.

  Thanks to my dearest: Christina Hoe, Jocelyn Leavitt, Brenda Withers, David Harris, and my brother, Vijay, for letting me tell stories and share photos of them, which I suppose they kind of had to do out of love, anyway.

  I am grateful to Maya Mavjee, Tina Constable, Tammy Blake, Meredith McGinnis, and Anna Thompson for their support, hard work, and excitement about this book.

  Melissa Stone and Alex Crotin were sweethearts and badasses, which is very difficult to pull off.

  Without Howard Klein I would never have written this. Richard Abate guided me through this entire process with patience and love. I have both of their cell phone numbers, a privilege which I abuse.

  I love NBC, even though I have never gotten a GE discount.

  Suzanne O’Neill is a brilliant editor with whom I’ve had almost daily contact. Long ago, I blurred the line of professionalism with her, and there is no going back. She is my friend. Sorry, Suzanne.

  And finally, I want to thank Avu and Swati Chokalingam. I know I dedicated this book to them, but I guess I’m just one of those weird kids who likes their parents too much.