Tuesday, September 25, 2012

That Time Steve Harvey Wanted Me on His Talk Show

I thought I had made it. I really had. I got an email from a producer at NBC who said she had read my blog. I immediately thought to myself: They want me to write for SNL! I should quit my job! I need to get an apartment in New York! This is all happening so fast!

He knows what women want.

In reality, the only thing that was happening so fast was my thought process. She was actually writing on behalf of the Steve Harvey Show, which is apparently a new piece of daytime television, and "doing extremely well!" Whatever that means. According to its website, it's been on air for approximately two weeks.

Anyway, she asked if I would like to be on the show for one of their new segments called, "United Dates of America."  I'd be set up on three dates and they'd be filmed and then Steve Harvey would critique them. I'm assuming she thought I might be a good fit for this segment considering much of my blog consists of dating and also not dating and also what it's like to have a cat.

The problem is, she left out something really important, something I discovered when I went to the website for more information. What Steve really wanted was to feature me as ONE OF THE WORST DATERS IN AMERICA.

Apparently Steve is a relationship guru, and he wants to HEAL me. Cheese and crepes! I mean I know I'm single and whatever, but like, worst dater in America? I don't think I would go that far.

So, after much deliberation, I decided that I didn't really want to be humiliated on national television, especially by someone, who I can only assume is a sexist asshole:

(Spoiler alert: gay men aren't real.)

Anyway, I imagine his advice on dating would be something along the lines of "keep your mouth shut and look pretty." We would have gotten along really well.

(Note: A few weeks ago I also thought I made it because someone at a Jewish online newspaper also found my blog and asked me to write for them. As it turns out, they thought I was Jewish. So that didn't work out...)

Friday, September 21, 2012

A Very Merry Un-Birthday

Today is I'm Your Katie Qué's 1st birthday! I can't believe it has already been a year since I started writing this blog (technically, it's been longer than that: I wrote a few posts in 2008, but no one cared about them). After years of saying I'd start a blog, I'm so happy that I finally did. Sharing my life with you all has been pretty fun for me, and hopefully for you as well. If nothing else, you now have a cache of STUNNING CAT PHOTOS at your disposal.  

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I've put together a list of some of my, and some of your, favorite posts from the past year:

As always, thank you for reading and sharing my blog, and also for not shitting on me in your comments (this does not pertain to anyone on Reddit, most of whom hate me). It means so much to me that you like what I write (or at least that you click the link; Google Analytics determines my self-worth). I hope you stay tuned for more. Hearts and stars!

[Special thanks to Friends for help with this post.]

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Just making sure you guys know I go to the gym.

In an ironic turn of events, I went to the gym this morning and then couldn't button my pants in the locker room. This made me panic for 2 reasons:

  1. I did not have time go back to my apartment to get a different pair of pants before work, and
  2. I worked out and then got fatter.

Then again, I did just buy a Reese's pumpkin for an afternoon snack, so that could explain number 2.

Anyway, I know I've talked about this before, but women do the most ridiculous shit at the gym. For example:
  1. Holding onto the treadmill while they run. This is dangerous and dumb. If you need to hold on to something to be able to run, you're not doing it right.
  2. Looking at my RPMs during spin class. Bitch, eyes on your own paper. Am I right?
  3. Bringing their entire life with them and spreading it all over the locker room. This will never cease to annoy me.  First of all, half the reason I pay to go to my gym is because the locker room is not only nice and clean, but also equipped with everything you'd ever need: towels, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, Q-Tips, hair dryers, etc. etc. Yet, so many members pack up their whole fucking bathroom and bring it to the gym with them. No, I'm sorry you cannot use this counter because it's occupied by my wet loofah and every other toiletry I've ever purchased. This morning I watched a pair of girl friends try on MULTIPLE outfits for each other and then pick out necklaces from the JEWELRY BOX one of them brought with her. JEWELRY BOX.
This type of crap drives me crazy. Obviously, when I go to the gym, I do it perfectly in every way. That is why I have this perfect body. And why I can judge everyone else's behavior. 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Alice in New York City

I'm pretty obsessed with Alice in Wonderland.  I own multiple copies of the book and took a class in college mostly because it was on the syllabus (and because I was not so secretly in love with the professor).  When I was little, I watched the Disney movie almost every day and can still recite the whole thing.  I also used to spend hours alone in the woods looking for a white rabbit. I was an interesting little girl. Sadly, my childhood was DESTROYED when Tim Burton made that atrocity in 2010. That movie was not Alice in Wonderland, my friends. It was more like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe meets the Mad Hatter. I think Tim Burton got Lewis Carroll and C.S. Lewis confused. I know they have similar names but they're pretty different, Tim.

Showing how much I care about the Sox this season
by wearing an Alice shirt to Fenway.

I had a very Alice in Wonderland time when I was in New York last week. Patrick had to work for a few hours one of the days I was there, so I had time to explore the city on my own. My primary objective was to find the famous Alice statue in Central Park and instagram the shit out of it. Luckily, I also found a British girl with the coolest hair ever and asked her to take a picture of me. She had an awesome camera, so I assumed she would do a good job. And she did:

I also went to Alice's Tea Cup, where I met up with my internet friends, Kim and Katie. Let me just say that I love telling people I have internet friends. They usually give me concerned and shameful looks when I do so, but that's only because they don't understand how cool it is to have internet friends.

Kim is only sort of an internet friend, though. I've known her for a long time but hadn't seen her in years until last weekend. However, if it weren't for Facebook and our mutual interest in Game of Thrones and cats, we may have never met up again. Katie, on the other hand, is a legit internet friend. We read each other's blogs and sometimes tweet at each other, but had never seen each other in person until our brunch date at Alice's Tea Cup. I have to say, after countless internet dates, meeting a blog friend in real life felt totally normal. In fact, it was much better than an internet date, since I didn't have to worry that either of the girls would try to have sex with me. I generally spend the majority of any date worrying that the guy is going to try to touch me at some point. So, that's something.

Internet friends!

But yeah, my platonic internet brunch date with Kim and Katie was fantastic. Alice's Tea Cup is adorable (although not as well-decorated as Upstairs on the Square) and makes a damn fine scone. I chose the pumpkin scone in honor of September 1st and my love for all things pumpkin and fall. We also drank approximately 4 pots of tea and got kicked out of the restaurant because we were there too long. See how much fun internet friends are? You should get one.


After brunch, Kim took me to ride the "tram" over to Roosevelt Island. Now, when Kim said "tram," I thought cute little trolley thing that might drive over a bridge but is always, always on the ground.  Had I known that I would be traveling THROUGH THE AIR over a body of water, I probably would have said, "no thank you." Instead, I spent the ride trying not to cry and holding on to one of the poles in the middle of the tram just in case it broke off the cable and we plummeted into the ocean, since, of course, holding onto the pole would protect me.


Tram ride and hundreds of dollars later, I said goodbye to my friends and got on a bus to go back to Boston, where I am currently living like a peasant in hopes of rejuvenating my bank account.  At least when Alice got back from her adventure, she wasn't poor. I should go back to playing in the woods. That shit is free.

SpaghettiOs in an Alice bowl. Water. Poverty.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Bunnies & Cheese (Part Deux)

Last week, I went to NYC to visit my dear friend, Patrick. Whenever I'm with Pat, we eat (and drink) the most delectable things, including, but not limited to:

Romance & cheese.

In fact, that's pretty much all we did while I was there -- eat and drink. I think I gained 10 pounds in 3 days. I also blew hundreds of dollars during that time.  (Please note, that I in no way can afford the lifestyle I forgot I couldn't afford while on vacation and in NYC. My bank account is crying.)

In a rare moment when we weren't consuming something, we took a walk along the High Line in Chelsea where we met a New Orleans native named DISCAUX (pronounced "disco") who told us his life story and then took photos of us. Weird. What made it even weirder was the fact that Pat wasn't fully dressed. Please keep a look out for us on the World Wide Web.

Thanks, Discaux.

After that, we came across an Asian man playing harmonica next to a small table on top of which sat an adorable little bunny. Again, pretty fucking weird. Of course, since I have no self-control, I HAD to pet the bunny, and, while doing so, the Asian man picked it up by its scruff and thrust it into my hands. I then held the bunny like a baby. It all happened so quickly.  And it was awesome.


It was also sort of sad -- this man pimping out his bunny for spare change. I felt bad leaving him there, but I also felt a dire need to wash my hands. We were also on our way to get zucchini fries and beer. Priorities. So, I gave the man all the change I had in my wallet and told him to "please buy him some nice lettuce." I sure hope he did.

Oh, and in case you missed it, here's Bunnies & Cheese [Part 1].


me: Boo round house kicked me in the face once. I had a fat lip. True story.
Kathleen: That's kind of amazing
me: If you're wondering how that would happen... it was the result of me trying to BLOW RASPBERRIES ON MY CAT'S STOMACH

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Math Problems

I've been noticing a lot of people struggling with math on Facebook. These are professional adults who I'd like to assume have a fairly good grasp on algebra, but they're getting it all wrong. Publicly.  For example:
  • "Glass of wine + sushi + The Notebook = best night ever"
  • "Sandy feet + ocean = bliss"
  • "Day off + long run + dog + sun = toned and tan pet owner" 

Some equations are even more complicated, such as:
  • "Cold morning + sweatshirt + coffee + pumpkin muffin + snuggles = one happy girl"


Now, I'm no mathematician, but I think what these people are trying to say, in a very convoluted, not-so-cryptic ways is:
  • "Simple things bring me joy!"
  • "I love sitting on my couch and eating!"
  • "I work out!"
  • "I went on vacation!!!!!!" 
  • "Even though I don't know how to add or subtract, my life is awesome!" 

Here's the thing, I'm really happy that you're happy and I'm sure your life is way better than mine, but I'm also incredibly bored. These algebra problems are becoming way too prevalent on my newsfeed. I'd be more interested in your mundane life if you had a new way to talk about it. Maybe try a foreign language. Do you know calculus? How about a haiku!

Sitting on a couch
Watch TV in pajamas
Wine, cat, beautiful

I urge you to consider a different format. And, most importantly, please always remember that coffee + a muffin does not equal anything except coffee + a muffin. Somewhere, your high school math teachers are crying for you.