I love being married. I love my husband. I think married people always have that thing where they think that the grass is greener on the single side, but all my single friends are like, "Trust me, you don't want to have to actually interact with these people."

I'm the kindest, most supportive friend ever, probably to my own detriment, but I hope that I am toughening up a little bit.

Marriage isn't a carnival ride.

Karaoke is the great equalizer.

I like grown up comedy.

When one is undone—sprawled across the cold tile of a public bathroom in a pool of one’s own vomit, or shivering in the back of a taxi in a pair of urine-soaked skinny jeans with no money for cab fare and a dead cell phone battery—much like a wobbly toddler or an unhinged politician, one immediately looks for someone else to blame. God. Your parents. Ex-girlfriends. Undocumented immigrants. Marvin in Human Resources. China.

I am absolutely a Giants fan and I'm a Dynasty baby so I was a 49ers fan for a long time.