When I was about seven, my grandparents accidentally sent my brother and me a postcard from their trip to London with two punks in leather jackets holding up their middle fingers straight to camera-we teased them about it for years. Real mail leaves an impression because it’s an event-the surprise of receiving it, the examining of the envelope, and the reveal when you open it. I’m talking real mail-a handwritten note or postcard from a friend, a small care package from my mom or dad or grandparent. I’d never seen a few weeks’ worth of mail at once, and immediately got excited-I love mail, and with a stack like this, the chances of me getting something good were higher. When I returned, I trudged up the stairs of my third-story walk-up with my luggage to find a large, neatly stacked pile on the kitchen counter. I sublet my apartment in Greenwich Village to a friend of a friend while I was away, a sweet guy who watered my plant (hard T) and collected my mail. I had been out in Los Angeles for a few weeks, compiling the writers’ room for Broad City and gearing up to start Season 1. In February of 2013, I received a love letter from 1944. With some original illustrations by the author. In this collection of anecdotes, observations and reflections–all told in the sharp, wildly funny, and relatable voice that has endeared Abbi to critics and fans alike–readers will feel like they’re in the passenger seat on a fun and, ultimately, inspiring journey. As she spent time in each city and town on her way to Los Angeles, she mulled over the big questions - What do I really want? What is the worst possible scenario in which I could run into my ex? How has the decision to wear my shirts tucked in been pivotal in my adulthood?

When Abbi Jacobson announced to friends and acquaintances that she planned to drive across the country alone, she was met with lots of questions and opinions: Why wasn’t she going with friends? Wouldn’t it be incredibly lonely? The North route is better! Was it safe for a woman? The Southern route is the way to go! You should bring mace! And a common one… why? But Abbi had always found comfort in solitude, and needed space to step back and hit the reset button.

Abbi jacobson i might regret this