Category Archives: celebrities


This comment on my last post, from Beat Of My Own Drum was so good I had to make a post out of it:

I hope feminists won’t hate me for an observation I’ve made. I’m all about women empowerment, after all. But I’ve observed that no matter how successful a woman gets in her career, it’s her personal relationships that she chooses to define her. It’s not true for all women, but it is for most, it seems. That’s probably why, even though we’re strong women, we wouldn’t mind being swept off our feet by a prince.

Or maybe it’s the Chanel suits and not having to work our asses off to earn enough.

Why did this never occur to me before? Is it like when you’re looking for your keys and you realize you’ve been holding them the entire time? Okay so who hasn’t known someone (celebrity or friend) by this description and this description only: _____’s girlfriend. Maybe some rockstars’ girlfriends/ex wives/whatever make their living by writing about their flings (which, shit, is pretty much what I do, fffffffuuuuuuu) and if that’s the way they wanna go, OK, you make that work like a factory. Is it just that their male partner’s fame eclipsed theirs? Let’s be real, no one was ever going to refer to JFK Jr. as “Carolyn Bessette’s husband.”

But even successful women of their own right can never dodge their relationship statuses: Marilyn Monroe AND Hillary Clinton both had trouble shaking off their man troubles, even though both women were powerful and famous. This is the one thing I really dig about Gaga right now: when she said, “Your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn’t love you anymore” she fucking meant it. We don’t hear about who Gaga’s dating (well, except for when she tried to convince us that she was bisexual; kissing your best friend at a crazy freshman NYU party DOESN’T COUNT I’M JUST SAYING). I don’t even care, come at me, if Gaga’s bisexual than I am part Batman. IT’S JUST SO FUCKING CALCULATED. EVEN MADONNA WENT THROUGH HER LESBIAN PHASE WHEN SHE NEEDED IT FOR HER CAREER. REMEMBER THE WHOLE SANDRA BERNHARD THING? WHY AM I SHOUTING? We hear about her career. And her outfits. But her career. It’s inspiring. Until she wears fake dinosaur bones in her face or whatever is going on there.

I don’t have any answers, but I now have a desire to define myself by who I am and what I do, not who I’m fucking. Or “dating.” Or “married to.” Or “divorcing.” Or “murdered.” Right???

I haven’t forgotten about my reader questions! In fact I am currently editing (with some rad people) my latest Apocalypstick video installment and this one is shot on nice cameras and with lighting that isn’t the glow of my MacBook! It looks great! We’ll probably have that done by the end of the month. I also have a new Betty Draper video to post so…you know, hold onto something, because that’s gonna knock you over. I’m also on vyou now but I don’t even know how to deal with that yet. I am drowning in Internet right now. AND I just started writing for The College Crush which is full of practical advice even if you are in high school or out of college.

Real Wild Child (Wild One) – Iggy Pop

MAD props to Robin for the gif!


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You guys, we did it! @johncusack is now following @juliagazdag. Thank you, @johncusack. Maybe now she’ll have 2012 followers!

I love the internet. Thank you! You guys did it! We did it together! This is the change Obama was talking about!

Let’s thank him by RTing this:

@apocalypstick: Thank you, @johncusack, for being so cool and showing us your true IDENTITY.


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John Cusack, WTF?

I have a really important issue here.

John Cusack.

John Cusack, for seemingly no reason, blocked my friend Julia on his Twitter. Julia is a huge fan. Here is what went down:

johncusack i may invoke twiiter [sic] rule 7439.8 ” if one fills feed with cap lock lines from one of my old movie he may be blocked without mercy

juliagazdag @johncusack what about twitter rule #243b: “thy tweets shall at least attempt some semblance of correct spelling and grammar.”

johncusack and your blocked! RT @juliagazdag: twitter rule #243b: “thy tweets shall at least attempt some semblance of correct spelling and grammar.”

johncusack i just viciously blocked someone who tweeted false rule about spelling_ was tough love but i had to do it

juliagazdag Most people find “sassy” charming. @johncusack apparently finds it offensive. Sass lost in typed translation? Either way, I am now sadfaced.

johncusack just blocked the wrong person i think.. oh well.. sorry!

juliagazdag Do you mean me? If yes, yay. If no, continuing with sadface. RT@johncusack just blocked the wrong person i think.. oh well.. sorry!

And that was it. HE IGNORED HER SAD FACE PEOPLE. HE. IGNORED. HER. SAD. FACE. All she did was point out a minor spelling mistake in a cute, lighthearted way, because she is a huge fan. AND HE THREW A TWITTER TANTRUM AND BLOCKED HER.

We cannot let John Cusack get away with this. I think we can all agree that this is the most pressing issue of the year. Join me, friends. Join me in the fight. Here’s how. I tweeted this:

Hey, @johncusack , Why did you block my friend @juliagazdag? She didn’t even SAY ANYTHING.


Together, we can do something really big. And by big, I mean get something popular on Twitter.

And Mr. Cusack, I am more than willing to hear your side of the story. I can interview you for my blog. If you say no, I will likely make up a fake interview like I did with the band Train.

(On a totally unrelated note, here’s something I wrote for This Recording called “The Dark Side of Audrey Hepburn.”)


I Will Follow Him — Little Peggy March


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The Time I Blew It With That Actor.

I’m in a fashion shoot!! Whaaaaat??!! Check out the latest issue of Genlux!

Recently I got the chance to meet That Actor from this popular cable TV show. And I completely blew it.

Here’s how: vodka gimlet + two Moscow mules + approximately three shots of vodka + talking to That Actor = my own personal Titanic.

I watched his show occasionally but I mostly remembered him from this wonderful little indie movie he did when I was in college. I thought it would be a great idea to talk to him, never mind the fact that I was drunker than Ulysses S. Grant when he won the Civil War.

Neither of us knew who the guy was who the guy was who introduced us. Basically I grabbed this guy who was flirting with me and said, “INTRODUCE ME TO [THAT ACTOR] OVER THERE.” And he did, but for all I know he could have said, “Hi, I’m with the FBI, this crazy girl wants to kill you, I’m just going to need you to pretend to engage her so we can stand by ready with our guns.”

What did we talk about? I have no idea. I can barely remember. I know that I talked about Arby’s. Why? I have no fucking idea. I’ve never been to Arby’s. Maybe I have a secret deep passion for Arby’s and I’m hoping that one day I tell this to the right person who exclaims, “ME TOO!” and all will be well. Who the fuck knows.

I remember he told me that he liked my necklace. I said, “I think it would look good with your outfit,” and promptly pulled it off of my head. I then went to put it around his head and said, I swear to god, “I think your head is too big for this.” I told him I wanted to burn down the decorative swimming pool in front of us. I may have made a “That’s what she said” joke. I said, a few times, “Wait, can we start over? I’m Almie” and shook his hand (on the bright side, he sure didn’t forget my name by the end of the night….if that’s a bright side.) I told him, I’m not crazy. (Which is really great, that’s how you really convince people you’re not crazy, you know, by putting that idea into their heads in the first place. That’s like if a cute little ten-year-old-girl came up to you and said, “I’m not evil.” You would think, “Holy shit, this girl is evil.”) He said I didn’t need to say that. Then, to officially claim my place as the biggest loser of all time, I told him my story about how my friend interviewed him in college and how that should have been me and how he owes me an interview. He asked what for. I said, “My blog!” and gave him my card. He asked what my blog was about. I think I said, “Dating, living in LA, and feeling awkward kind of like this.” I joked about my card, saying that the “actress” description under my name was “theoretical.” He was a complete gentleman this entire time. I don’t know why he didn’t immediately get up and say, “Excuse me…I have to go stand over there…now” and leave. Maybe he thought I was entertaining in an R2-D2 kind of way. Like, oh look at it beeping! Look at its lights! Look at it spinning! Neat!

At one point someone tore him away for a press photo and he told me it was his boss and he would be back. My friend swooped in, said we had to go because she was tired, and I said OK and then teetered off to the bathroom. When I came back, the glaring brightness of the bathroom lights clashed with the darkness of the club and I couldn’t see a fucking thing. I put on my glasses. I think black glasses work really well with a little black dress and vintage necklace, and fuck whoever disagrees, I’m awesome. I wanted to say goodbye to That Actor, and at least I knew this time I could see him, and who knows when I would see him again.

I found him and said goodbye. He told me he didn’t recognize me with my glasses on. I think I may have shouted, “YEAH, GLASSES!” and high-fived him, but I can’t be sure. However I’m pretty sure that once again, for the love of God, I talked about Arby’s. He told me to get in touch with his people regarding the interview and I said something like, “Pssshh, you have my card, you get in touch with me.”

First impressions are everything. When guys meet me, in any situation, they either think I’m a manic pixie dreamgirl, like Annie Hall meets Ellen Paige meets every girl who works at a vintage store in Brooklyn, or they think I’m the manic crazy sullen girl who stands outside of 7-11s shouting at some guy named Brian or Jimmy. I can’t control that. But I think everyone needs to know that I am never that drunk. Earlier in the night I was absolutely charming. We all go a little mad sometimes. Actually, quoting a line from “Psycho” is probably not my best defense. Putting this on the internet may not be my best defense. But I think it’s a pretty great story about how really all we need to be is ourselves. We don’t need to get drunk. We are good the way we are. We have nothing to prove.

Though I have to say I’ve been dating This Guy right now who finds my drunken shenanigans “hilarious/adorable” so maybe it’s all about finding the person who not only accepts your awkwardness, but gives it a high-five.

Now please tell me your personal tales of drunken destruction.

If You Want It — TV Girl


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It’s Okay.

All right everyone! We are turning a corner! Happy days are here! I loved reading your confessions in the last post. Thank you for opening up with me. It reminds me that we’re all in this together. Everyone has a shared human experience. Unless you’re a psychopath (which I think is now called Antisocial Personality Disorder, but I’m not sure. Please feel free to correct me!) Is weird that I’ve always wanted to be a psychopath just to know what it feels like?

So anyway. I am dispelling my own belief that life is harder than it is easy. There is no reason why my life should be hard. I am going to approach all aspects of my life like I’m the luckiest person on Earth. What is luck anyway? Isn’t it just a state of mind? Because who ever heard of miserable people who are lucky? No. Luck and happy people have been tighter than Nicole Kidman’s face. We’ve established that everything sucks. But now we need to embrace the part about how it’s okay. Follow my lead. If you have to, tie a string around your wrist to remind you to be positive. Or buy yourself a Cartier watch, whatever.

Last night in acting class we talked about Keanu Reeves. We talked about how every role he plays is him getting lucky in some way or other. Keanu is “the chosen one.” And yet, in his real life, he is the most unlucky person ever. Everyone he has ever loved, everyone who is close to him, has died in some freak accident. Kind of like Kelsey Grammer. I think his sister was killed in a robbery or something and then someone else who was related to him was eaten by sharks. Sharks. But Fraiser’s life is pretty good. Sharks!

You just have to find what your thing is. Like our acting teacher told us that Tom Hanks’s thing was he always plays someone who isn’t prepared for something. “I’m not prepared to be a kid in an adult body.” “I’m not prepared to date a mermaid.” “I’m not prepared to become the poster boy for AIDS.” “I’m not prepared to live in a world where I have an IQ of about 56.” “I’m not prepared to be stranded on an island.”

(THIS IS ALSO THE BEST PARTY GAME EVER. Someone theorized that Leonardo DiCaprio’s thing is that he always has to escape from something. Feel free to play this game in the comments!!!)

What is your thing? What human quality is consistent in your life? What keeps popping up? Embrace it and use it. Maybe you don’t like what your thing is. But you don’t choose your thing; your thing chooses you (instead of “thing” our acting teacher calls it “myth.”) This whole conversation blew my mind. If you know who you are and you’re comfortable with it and you believe in yourself, there’s nothing you can’t do. You need to look at what you have and not lament over what you don’t. I’m not Charlize Theron and who gives a fuck.

Does it mean I’m “cured” from years and years of putting myself down? No. But it means that I’m going to view every day in a different light. Light! Not darkness! You are meant to have a happy life! You are allowed to feel good! You don’t have to doubt yourself! You don’t have to wait in anticipation for the hammer to come down! Good feelings bring more good feelings! We’re going to be okay, you guys!

We Are The Champions — Queen


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That’s The Power Of Love.

Who do these bitches have in common (aside from important people)???? ME!!

Is “Back to the Future” the most important film of the 80s? Of course not. IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT FILM OF ALL TIME.

My Lea Thompson Story:

It was another day at work in which I was probably trying to move things with my mind from behind the counter (because when it’s slow, what else are you going to do) when a woman in my glasses came up to make a purchase. They weren’t literally my glasses of course; mine were in my purse. But they were the same classic, I’m an artist goddamnit but I also love money Ray-Ban glasses. At the store we are required to ask for I.D. for any and all purchases. I asked this young looking woman for I.D. and when she slid it over I saw Lea Thomp– and then my brain went, “Oh shit, it’s Marty’s mom!!” and I blurted out, “Oh, I don’t need this, I know who you are” and gave it back to her.

She laughed and said, “I wish I knew who I was.”

I didn’t recognize you with your glasses,” I said. “I have the same ones! I just got them.”

She seemed excited by this and asked me where I got mine. “Lens Crafters!”

“They had them there??” She exclaimed. “I probably paid way too much for mine! How much did you pay, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I didn’t mind, but my brain pretty much froze. I’m bad with remembering numbers, I’m better with words/phrases. So I sort of stood there, saying “uhhhhh” and mumbling numbers, gradually getting quieter and quieter, like the Tin Man rusting. It was probably very weird. She cheerfully said, “Never mind”, trying to save me from myself.

“Sometimes I worry I’m not cool enough to wear them,” I said. She laughed and said something like, “I know right? But If I am, you are. Believe me, you are.” Then she went off on her way and I had to fight every urge to yell, “THAT’S THE POWER OF LOOOOOOOVE!!” as she left.

My Michael J. Fox Story:

Full disclosure: aside from Captain Hook, Michael J. Fox was my first serious celebrity crush. I have “Back to the Future” to thank for this. Then in middle school, “Spin City” came out and my love for him was only intensified. I watched all of his crappy 80s movies. Even the weird one where he and Sean Penn are fighting in Vietnam and Sean Penn rapes a woman in the jungle and MJF is like, “Wait what” and my naive self was like, “Wait what?”. In college our school had The Actors Studio and all New School University students were allowed to go to the tapings. I went to the MJF taping and watched James Lipton try to be stoic and say things like, “I own a cave in Malta.” (Seriously.) After the taping I waited out back for MJF to come out so I could tell him how awesome he was and how we had a friend in common (the founder of my high school) and etc but I waited at the wrong entrance. My friend Sean, who I always referred to as “Moondog” because he seemed like a surfer but wasn’t, told me that he happened to run into MJF as he was leaving and shook his hand. I said, “How nice for you, Sean” and quietly seethed. Surf’s up, bitch.

A couple of years ago I had an assistant job for a really nice director. I did things for him and his wife, like go to Fred Segal. It was on one of these Fred Segal excursions that I saw him. Michael J. Fox, chilling out max and relaxing all cool. I couldn’t even look at him, he was so awesome. I slid inside the store, made the exchanges, and then got into the bathroom to collect myself. “If he’s there when I come back, I’ll say something” I told myself. When I got out, he was gone.

But he wasn’t! He was sitting outside! I had to do it. I came up to him, trying really hard to turn down the crazy that I give off naturally.

“Hi!” I said. “Actually, we have a friend in common.” I explained that I went to the same high school that was founded by his friends. “Will you tell them I said hi? My name is Almie!” He was very gracious. I don’t know why I asked him to tell them hi, I hadn’t spoken to them in years. We talked about what good people they were. Then to make things even more dorky I added, “In high school, I won an award named after [one of the founders] for being creative or something!” I said that because I am four-and-a-half and carry Play-Doh in my pocket. But he was very kind and at least feigned interest. “What’s your name again?” he asked, probably to make a note to tell them that a very disturbed individual who went to their school accosted him in the Fred Segal parking lot. I told him, I think he said my name was pretty, but unfortunately I can’t remember most of what he said because the whole time my brain was chanting, “MICHAEL J. FOX MICHAEL J. FOX MICHAEL J. FOX” like the “Charge!” chant at sports events.

“I just think you’re awesome” I blurted out, before running to my car. I think he smiled and thanked me. I got into my car, tried to keep it together, because I really didn’t want to hit another car in front of Michael J. Fox, and before I left I waved. He waved back. Then I got on my phone (hands free!) and called my mom. She picked up and I screamed, “IJUSTMETMICHAELJFOXAAAHFREDSEGALAAHAHH” and she thought I had gotten into a car accident.

Having grown up in LA I never get psyched over seeing celebrities, but “Back to the Future” celebs will always be exceptions (same goes for ‘Twin Peaks” celebs). Is there anyone you flipped out over meeting or really want to meet?


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Dear Luke Perry.




“Dear Luke Perry,

How’s it hanging, bro?”


No wait, that’s dumb, let me start over.


“Dear Luke Perry,

I’ve been thinking about you”


No that’s fucking creepy.


“Dear Luke Perry,

How are you? I know we don’t know each other so it may seem weird for me to address you like we do, asking how you are and such, but anyway I hope you’re well. Uh.”


I need to start over. Last time. I promise.


“Dear Luke Perry,

Look I’ll just put it all out there. I think you are criminally underrated as an actor. I don’t know who I would file charges against though. Not you. Maybe Hollywood? I don’t know. BH 90210 is a given but you’re so good in so many other things. Like when you appeared as a creepy dude on Law & Order: SVU, you deserved an Emmy. Or when you played that creepy dude on Oz. Emmy. Or even when you voiced yourself on The Simpsons and Family Guy. Emmy and Emmy. That’s like six Emmys. By the way, I’m not good at math.

I think you’re attractive, OK? Really attractive. I don’t know if we have anything in common aside from our mutual adoration of you. You probably like to read. I like to read. I bet you occasionally eat and sleep. I do those things too! I think you like to surf and I’ve never done that. But I would be willing to try. I would probably cry a lot and come close to drowning but I think that’s part of any relationship.

Whoa, I guess I’m moving a little fast. We don’t even know each other. And fan letters aren’t the best way of saying, “Hey I’d like to date you.” I get lovely fan letters but once in a while I get creepy ones. And it’s like, dude I’m not going to fly to Argentina to be your wife. I don’t know where you got that idea from my blog that that was even a possibility. But my readers, with the exception of that one creepy dude, are really fantastic.

But enough about me. Or maybe not, I don’t know. I’m pretty great. Not as great as you though.

Oh gosh, listen to me, gushing over you. Someone said they saw you on chatroulette. Chatroulette scares the hell out of me and I’ve never done it but I’d do it for you.

Why don’t you have a twitter? Is it because of people like me? I understand. I’m a little much. But on the plus side, I’m young, fun, smart, funny, and I love looking at things and talking and not talking. Also people have said that I have an almost crazy-creepy symmetrical face. I don’t know if that interests you. I’m just throwing it out there.

Anyway. I’d like to close with this: carry on my wayward son. They’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more. And–”


Actually, you know what, it’s probably best that we never met.

Ring Of Fire — Amanda Jo Williams


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