This is going to get messy. Come for the grilled cheese, stay for 2 new workshops, the retreat/massage giveaway, and a BIG Fat middle finger to popularity contests. Duh.

Your worth isn’t up for debate (but this weekend’s workshops are EVERYTHING & my amazing "what was I thinking giving away a retreat & a massage" giveaway ends Friday.

Hi, weirdos.

We have two experiences to come together again this weekend. Eww gross, get your mind out of the gutter. Fine, it’s my mind that resides there.

Keep on reading all the way to get to the details for the workshops. Work on those attention span muscles. Saturday’s writing experience is for paid subscribers only, but Sunday is again for everyone and becoming a paid subscriber is as easy as ordering my book. I feel that making it BOLD really drives the point home and makes you pay closer attention. Not. (Why do I even do these predictable things? When will I ever learn?¹)

I saw the meme strange weird meme below and was like It’s us!

You guys, This Is Us. (In real life, not the tv show. Duh.) Speaking of duh, I found a thing my son wrote at school and he actually wrote “duh” on it. Let me show you:

Duh.

I’ve been having all sorts of ghost feelings come up during this pre-pub part of the book process. I say ghost feelings cause I thought they were dead. Hold on while I laugh. Hahahahahahah. Anyway, watch the video below and let me know your thoughts? I really want YOU to get what I am saying. Do you?

This is such a vulnerable time, my gosh. I just want to crawl in a cave with some snacks but alas. I can’t. So again. thank you for being here.

The Cliff Notes version is: You matter and you matter for no reason. You matter simply because you do. Fuck that noise that says you matter MORE because of x, y, z or being a NYT bestselling author or having a hit movie or lots of followers or a kid or a house or whatever the gauge is. Nope. You are your own proof of life. See what I did there? But it’s true.

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Yesterday, I went to visit my son in his cooking class at school. There was this little girl sitting next to him who told me that she’d just gone to a water park to celebrate turning seven. She clarified, My real birthday was Sunday but my school birthday is today. She said she’s stayed at a five-star hotel when they went to the water park place.

They were putting mayonnaise on their white bread in preparation for grilled cheese. I had never seen done before, but as a mayonnaise aficionado I was pleased to witness this marriage of unlikely- or perhaps very likely- things. I mean, who gets to say really- what goes together, what doesn’t? What’s good, what isn’t? What has value? What doesn’t? Who gets to say?²

I asked her how she knew.

How did you know it was a five-star hotel?

I couldn’t hear her answer because I’m deaf and she was shoving cheese into her mouth. Lost cause.

As the kids all struggled to unwrap individual slices of orange cheese from the plastic they seemed permanently stuck inside of, she picked up a lone corner of questionable cheese that had fallen onto the desk and stared at it, as if contemplating my question.

Well, actually it was four and a half stars she admitted and then popped the dirty cheese bit into her mouth, before placing the rest of the slice in between the mayo slathered bread and onto the hot plate in the corner of the room by the pencil sharpener and posters celebrating Science! And Math!

I wondered how she knew it was 5- four-and-a-half stars? Was it because the bed was so comfortable? Or because the bathroom products were worth stealing, but not stealing stealing, because when you pay that much money, the least they can do is let you take a few extra shampoos and shower caps.

Perhaps she’d heard an adult: They could include breakfast at a five-star hotel. With what it costs, it should have come with a car for Chrissakes? Before another corrected their mistake: Four and half stars, not five.

As I write to you today, I’m thinking about how delicious that grilled cheese looked even though I hate white bread and that plastic excuse for cheese. I’m thinking about how the kids flipped their sandwiches gingerly and with such a nervous excitement.

How I wanted to cheer each time one of their creations didn’t fall apart and how I silently prayed to each kids grilled cheese Don’t fall apart Don’t fall apart-

so that they’d walk out of that class with some kind of inherent grilled cheese confidence in their bones that would stay there forever, even though they probably wouldn’t recognize it as something that was born on a Monday in April during their childhood as they stood over a hot plate watching their effort add up to something miraculous.

I’m thinking about the idea that someone is always “praying” for us. Maybe it’s not exactly Don’t fall apart, don’t fall apart (or maybe it is), but imagine that there is always someone wanting us to make it. Whatever make it means to you. There’s always someone going you got this and I got you.

Can you let yourself imagine that? I’m going to. Starting right now.

I’ll tell you what, each one was a five-star grilled cheese and I didn’t even have to taste any of them to know this.

With his mouth full, my son said This is the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had.

I said I know, isn’t it? Things always taste better when made with love.

He said It always tastes better when you know you made it.

And I thought

I better remember that and I better keep making and making and making and making and making and making and making and making and making and making and who cares if it’s four-and-a-half or five stars or The NYT bestseller list or a Michelin grilled cheese.

Who cares when you make the thing, who cares when you make it with love.

Who cares.

That’s not a question.

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Now, onto the workshop shenanigans.

Free for paid subscribers: we have the one and only

Courtenay Hameister

, author of Okay Fine Whatever: The Year I Went from Being Afraid of Everything to Only Being Afraid of Most Things on Saturday May 3. I don’t care how shitty a writer you think you are (highly doubt you are anyway, that is your Inner Asshole talking) or if you even want to write- sharing time with Courtenay is nothing short of magic. Just come. Listen, laugh, learn, write (if you want to.) And probably cry. Look, she is a master. I do not say this lightly. I told you, I’m all about the perks for you guys. I am so grateful to you. We are in this together. I mean all of THIS. Yes, this pushing my book out into the world, but also this life.

I live this way: The I Got You Effect.

Courtenay’s is only for paid subscribers but if you want to upgrade from FREE to paid you can, or…. simply preorder a copy of my book and send me the screenshot and I will give you 6 months free. You can get the book anywhere. If you get 2 copies, I will give you a year and if you get 3 you get a lifetime paid subscription! Just email and send me screenshot. Here’s a list of places to get it from. I have more surprise workshops coming too. Just you wait!

Sunday, we are doing another virtual brunch because last week was so damn great. Weirdos unite! Come get to know each other, especially if you’re like real awkward. We will be diving into the notion of how we lie to ourselves. Yay! Bagels and lies! And Zoom! Sunday’s brunch is for everyone.

What else?

Well, the giveaway to end all giveaways ends Friday May 2 at 6:30 pm pst (winner chosen live here on my Substack at 7 pm pst by Charlie Mel.) I am picking TWO winners to attend my oct 2-5 Ojai retreat (!!) and each winner also gets a massage (!!!) while there. That alone is worth over $3,360, plus you immediately get a lifetime paid subscription here (to this magical Substack place we call home for weirdos) just by entering.

It’s win win win win winny winnerton time. If you care about bookstores and you have the cash, do this!

Do what?

This:

Pre-order 5 (5!) copies of my book from Vroman’s (they’ll be signed) and send me (jennifer@jenniferpastiloff.com or reply to this email) a screenshot of your receipt. That’s it.

Vroman’s is a darling indie bookstore in Pasadena, Ca, where I will be in convo (in-person) with my partner Henry Czerny (who is about to star in the new mission Impossible!!) on July 9. July 8 is Diesel Books in LA with Shannon Watts. I will give you all the info on my book tour soon. I am still working it all out. It’s so much to juggle, friends. (Exhale, Jen. Exhale. Oh yea, inhale too.)

If you can’t swing 5 but want a signed copy- get it at Vroman’s. That’s who I am doing the signed copy campaign with.

Otherwise, get it anywhere books are sold. Especially, if you don’t care about it being signed.

I love you, you delicious weirdo. I can’t wait to celebrate with you after it publishes in July AND this weekend.

Saturday’s Zoom info is below the paywall. Again: Sat is for paid peeps only but Sunday is for ALL: free subscribers included. (Remember how easy it is to become a paid subscriber though. For now.)

Please note: Sat starts at 10 am pst but Sunday starts at 11 am pst. Time zones fuck me up, so make sure you saw I said Pacific Standard Time and go google that nonsense if you are easily confused like me.

Sunday’s Weirdo Brunch Zoom Zoom

Time: May 4, 2025 11:00 AM Pacific Time (US and Canada)

Join Zoom Meeting (if you’re awkward only)

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/86967262305?pwd=ybYgf5siTGPb13QCjZ4rVRaKM5jj47.1

Meeting ID: 869 6726 2305

Passcode: messy