friday loverly

Hey, guys!! Today I am so excited for you to meet my good friend Katie, who is without a doubt one of my favorite people I've met here in NYC. Katie is brilliant, hilarious, and CRAZY SUPER TALENTED when it comes to writing. As soon as she gets a job at The New Yorker, I'm signing up as her first groupie. Check out her blog, Long Story Short, at http://www.katemcneil.com. Take it away, Katie!

I'm really flattered (and slightly embarrassed!) that Andrea wanted to feature me on her blog. Here goes nothing:

1. You've got an incredible ability to capture the humorous/ridiculous in such a witty way. What's your writing process like? Are you immediately struck with an idea for a piece, or do you need time to review a day's events?

I try to find humor in the everyday. (Jerry Seinfeld is my hero in that regard.) Most often an idea will strike immediately. You know what I'm talking about: you're in a bathroom stall, buying flowers, or singing a song on the radio and you think, "Oh, this is so blog worthy." When that thought pops in, I'll whip out my phone and jot down the idea in a "to blog" note. If it's a really good idea, I'll start writing sentences in my head. Often inspiration comes late at night too. I never, ever write just because I feel a nagging need to update my blog. Those posts are always so obviously forced and sterile. But if you're not taking life too seriously, you'll always have something funny to write about.

2. You've got a hilarious husband. How does being married to Cameron influence/inspire your writing style?

Not a day goes by that I don't laugh with Cameron. And with 4+ years married, that means a lot of material! His easygoing attitude is the perfect balance to my neuroticism. Some of my favorite posts about Cameron are the one about the swimsuit issue, the one about his fleece jacket, and the one about the little league world series. I love that guy.

3. Guilty pleasure?

Candy, sleeping in, YouTube-ing French bulldog videos, following Internet memes on The Daily What and Buzzfeed while working, never leaving Uniqlo without buying something, and last but not least, Don Draper! The thing is, I never feel guilty about doing any of this.

4. What was teenage Katie like? I was nerdy girl, so....would we have been friends? Or would you have been totally making fun of me for my navy blue wide-leg shorts and hair-sprayed bangs?

Teenage Katie was very shy and insecure and some of that still lingers into adulthood. I didn't have my first kiss until I was 17! Reading back through my journals I was pretty angsty and confused and often wrote about the pressure to measure up to my siblings. I gained confidence through sports (volleyball) and writing (school newspaper). I was really lucky to have some very, very close friends that stuck with me through high school.

If I wasn't at volleyball practice, you would probably find me in front of a computer, downloading songs on Napster or chatting on AIM. I always loved the Internet. My shyness never hindered my online personality. I could be creative and witty through chatting and emailing in ways I could never be face-to-face. To this day I feel much more myself writing an email or blog post vs. talking on the phone or in person.


5. Strangest New York sighting?

So many! I saw a pirate walking out of the new Trader Joe's in Chelsea just the other day. One time I saw a homeless guy eating paint on the subway to get high. Literally, white paint dripping down his mouth and beard. That was really sad. I saw a chicken cross the road in Brooklyn. I've seen lots of public urination. A guy wearing a thong and heels at the Village Halloween parade. Countless old women with crooked drawn-on eyebrows and lipstick extending almost to the base of their nose. Lots of lap dogs in strollers. Rats, rats, more rats. New York = more blog fodder you could ever need!

hip hip hooray!!!

Hey so guess what?

You'll never guess.

WE'RE APPROVED FOR ADOPTION!!!

(WHAAAAAAAA, HOOOOOOOOOO, AHHHHHHHHH, CLAPPING)

Now, give us a baby.

Thank you.

it's tired in here

Sometimes when you're a productive member of society, you get tired.

Just saying.

a productive member of society

I got a job.

Remember when I told you about my perky and adorable friend Sarah, the Workout Genie? Well, I got a part-time job as a receptionist at Physique 57, the workout studio she instructs at.

I've been training every day for the past week, which explains the whole lotta nothing that's been happening on Bloggy Blog. Crickets chirping. Tumbleweeds rolling. Sorry, blog.

Hooray for being a productive member of society!! When I get my first paycheck I'm taking that Paul Boerem out for a real nice meal.

two weddings and a brawl (best. party. ever.)

WE'RE BACK!!!!!

I had a ten day fling with California, and now I'm all ready to be faithful to NYC, even if it is like a million degrees and super humid out here.

There's just no place like hot, stinky, humid home.

So, the main reason for our visit to Cali were two weddings: a co-worker of Paul's, and MY LITTLE SISTER WHO I CAN'T BELIEVE GOT MARRIED OH MY GOSH I SWEAR SHE'S STILL LIKE TWELVE WEARING A PURPLE CASIO WRISTWATCH HOLY COW WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN I TOTALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IT.

Right.

So, to give adequate attention to each event, here I will focus solely on the nuptials of Paul's co-worker, Alli. Who is one of the sweetest, hardest working, and prettiest girls ever.

To start with, this wedding was SUPER CRAZY FANCY. I'm not sure if the capital letters adequately convey just how fancy this soiree actually was. I mean, it was at the BEVERLY HILLS BAY RIDGE COUNTRY CLUB. THERE WAS A BEACH LIKE RIGHT THERE. LIKE WE WERE PRACTICALLY ON THE WATER. LIKE SHE ALMOST GOT MARRIED ON A BOAT.

Yes, that fancy.

So, Paul and I were all dolled up and we watched Alli get married and it was sweet and beautiful and then we ate lots of appetizers and they were delicious and then we were eating dinner and THAT'S WHEN THE BRAWL STARTED.

I mean, we're just sitting there, eating our fancy fish and our fancy steak and drinking our fancy water and talking about fancy wedding stuff and then there's this HUGE CRASH and we turn around and there's this man at the table next to us and he's got blood dripping down his face because the lady sitting next to him SMASHED A WINE GLASS OVER HIS HEAD.

Uh huh. Smashed. Glass. On the head.

And then people are yelling and rushing at each other and some do-gooders pull them off each other and everyone rushes outside except for this one guy who stays at the table and finishes his dinner which I totally don't blame him for because that fancy steak was really, really good.

I'm pretty sure as all this went on I was staring, open-mouthed and grinning. I don't think I even tried to stop myself.

We then spent the rest of the night attempting to get the back-story, which goes something like this:

Democrat. Republican. Mean words. More mean words. Even more mean words. Glass smashing.

And the cops come and handcuff the lady (who did the smashing) and they take her away to the clink and the dude who got smashed just keeps hanging out at the reception, with his head all bandaged up like he just had brain surgery or something.

And then, you know, they cut the cake. Business as usual, right?

BEST. PARTY. EVER.

out to lunch

I'm being a sporadic blogger because I am currently on vacation in beautiful, sunny, non-humid California.

We'll be out here until the end of the month.

I am in love with California right now. Ssssshhh, don't tell New York.

i best a toilet

The toilets at the the Lincoln Center Loews Movie Theater are out to get me.

I'm not being paranoid, I swear. It's true. Every time I walk into the restroom there, one of the toilets yells "WE GOT US AN ANDREA BOEREM. CODE RED. THE OWL FLIES AT MIDNIGHT. STAT."

They're organized, these toilets. I thought my parents were great at presenting a united front, but these toilets give them a run for their money. I mean, THE SAME THING HAPPENS EVERY TIME. I walk in, I select a stall, close and lock the door, and proceed to prep the area. I hang my purse on the hook, check for any unsanitary evidence that could change my choice of stalls, and I remove a paper toilet seat cover from the dispenser on the wall.

And that's when the fun begins.

I place the cover on the seat. I begin to, ah, ready myself for seating, and then the automatic flusher goes off and the cover is promptly swished right off the seat.

So, I stand back up, remove another seat cover, place it oh-so-gently on the seat, go in for landing, and, once again, the automatic flusher flushes.

GHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! AAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!

This sequence of events then repeats itself until I either get fed up and practice being a hovercraft, or until I get fast enough to beat the automatic flusher. You guess which option usually wins.

Well, yesterday Paul and I took ourselves down to Lincoln Center to see the movie Inception (which was visually stunning, by the by) and I drank like five gallons of water on the way there on account of it being like a million degrees outside and by the time we got there...well, I had to, uh, go.

I choose my stall, (closest to the wall = less room for strangers to peek through cracks) pull out a seat cover, and take a huge breath.

Gently, ever so gently, I place the tissue over the seat. Nothing. The breath I've been holding whooshes out. I am about to

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!GHAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHH!!!!

And then that porcelain devil laughs, I tell you. Laughs right out loud.

So, I muster all my speediness, grab a cover, and in a movement so precise, so sharply timed as to be almost invisible, I place the cover and sit, triumphant.

I laugh. Right out loud.

And then I step up to the podium to accept my gold medal in Olympic Bathroom Speediness.