One of those things where you don’t know exactly what you’re getting into, but you love the subject so you jump in anyways. 
My love for Diane Keaton far outweighs any liking for this memoir. It was semi chaotic and attempted to be philosophical, but more often than not just dragged on without much plot or know where the final destination would be. Some stories were funny , but it was hard to tell on audiobook what was a random quotes and what was finally her reflex. It would have been less if she hadn’t narrated it.
Would have never guessed she collected so much stuff, bizarre amounts of 8x10’s, paintings, photography, shoes, hats, turtle necks, houses, and the stories to fill them with several times over.