Well, actually, no. That's not quite what I mean.
Cries inside while laughing and nodding in understanding while wincing because you know what's next and falling in love with the author while you know the author is just a piece of yourself that's crying.
Does that make sense?
Read this blog post by Joe Peacock. (Who, as I type this, may be a Michele of sorts to my inner 18 year old)
And once you read it, share it if you feel the urge. I know I did, so I am.