Category Archives: fun times

I Talked To A Psychic Over The Phone And Treated It Like Therapy


I am very open to psychics, and astrology. Once, a woman stopped me on the street and hold me I HAD to call her for a reading, because there was something she just HAD to tell me. She gave me her card, and I was totally ready to call her until I realized that on the card, she had spelled the word “spiritual” incorrectly. (I believe she spelled it, “speritual.” That was it for me.)

So when I got an email asking if I was interested in a free “love reading,” I said yes, but asked instead if it could be a career reading, because for once, I am very satisfied with my love life and have no questions. They said absolutely, and arranged for me to do the reading over the phone.

I’ve done phone readings before, and to be honest, I kind of treat them like therapy. Therapists and psychics really do have a lot in common. They both listen to you, remind you of your finest qualities, and offer some form of advice. A common misconception is that psychics tell you what will happen. Not really. A good psychic will never claim to know exactly what will happen to you and when. They merely open the door to possible futures, based on what they know about you, which shouldn’t be a lot. And if you’re just as open to them, you might get something out of it.

Here’s what went down: I got a call from a friendly voice who asked me for specific questions about my career. (It’s good to prepare a list of questions to ask beforehand). I asked those questions and she then asked me to say my name three times in a row. Okay. “Almie…Almie…Almie.” I sort of expected some sort of Beetlejuice thing to happen, but, alas.

Here’s what she said about me:

“[You’re] not looking directly at something, [you’re] looking away from something, instead of being focused forward.” 

“[You’re] a perfectionist who doesn’t like to make mistakes.”

She added, there’s “an area where [you’re] being mislead in some way.” That, “someone is being less than honest with me (in the business world).” She proceeded to compliment me, calling me “very witty” and said that I have a way of “helping others feel comfortable with themselves.

Here comes the future stuff: “I see you taking a big leap forward, more on your own, as you’re the one running the show. The path is very straightforward and direct. Less turmoil around you, almost less of the side jobs. [You’re like a] subway, and it’s going really fast.

This is the part where she told me that I was going to write “three things.” Tangible things. She says I “need” to write more, and as a result of writing these three things, I was going to be “very successful”, more than I ever expected. (Yes, I did tell her I was a writer, but that was it.) She said by October, one of the things I was writing would be completed, and that I shouldn’t delay. “Don’t delay, you live in LA” — this was a phrase that was stuck in her mind.

She totally called out that I feel stuck a lot, and that when this happens, I need to “take a break” and “go to the beach” or “sit by the water.” She added, “I see you on a small stage with a mic and you’re holding one of your books and talking about it and people love it.

Okay, sweet. Then she said this:

There’s a man out there who is saying unkind things about [you], criticized [you]. This is an odd person.” I didn’t know who she was referring to, other than, you know, the entire Internet.

Overall, she was complimentary and oddly motivating. And when I asked her about a specific job interview coming up, she got specific too, saying I was, “one of the most qualified people. They’re showing [your] foot in the door, it’s a 3 step process. I’m getting a big push from a spirit with this job interview, but you’re going to outgrow this job.” In the end, I wound up not taking the job (but it had nothing to do with what she told me, I promise.)

I hope my great job still lies in front of me. She said I should get used to being backstage; that I, “really have creative life and you’ve got the ticket. Just hold steady.” As for what’s getting in my way? She says it’s — get ready for this — myself. (Twist!). “Just get out of your own way.” She really nailed that part, and also the part where she told me, “you didn’t start too late, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be…you did not miss any opportunities. you are right where you’re supposed to be.”

That warmed my heart.

So, we’ll see, Internet. We’ll see.


Do you believe in psychics? Ever had a reading? How did it go?


Photo by Nina Leen, via LIFE photo archives for Google.


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My New Book “I Forgot To Be Famous” Is Out!

almie rose book cover i forgot to be famous

SUPER EXCITING NEWS! I wrote a book! An e-book! It’s called I Forgot To Be Famous. It’s available for sale now on Amazon! It’s also available as an iBook on the Mac Apple digital book store Internet shop whatever it’s called. Here are some frequently asked questions about that book that may help you!

I Forgot To Be Famous.

Amazon and iTunes.

No problem, I don’t either! You can download a Kindle reader for free and read it on your computer (Mac or Windows). Amazon has a wide variety of free Kindle apps. With these you’ll be able to also read it on your iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, Windows Phone, and Blackberry. You will also be able to read it on your iPad, Android Tablet, and Windows 8.

It is available in (almost) every country that Amazon/other retailers have access to. So this means the book is available for download in:

— Austria
The United Kingdom
The United States

If you have to ask, then no, it probably isn’t about you. If you are mentioned, it’s by first name only…unless I felt the need to protect your name, in which case, I gave you a fake name.

Naw, you don’t need to be worried. It’s nothing insulting.

Copy/pasted from Amazon: What do you do when your ex leaves you for his A-list actress ex girlfriend? How do you land a musician boyfriend? What’s it like to make a total jackass of yourself when you meet that actor you’ve had a crush on for years? What would When Harry Met Sally… look like in 2013? Am I hungry? These questions and more are answered and explored by Almie Rose in I FORGOT TO BE FAMOUS, essays and how-to’s about dating, relationships, living in Los Angeles, and how they all crash into each other, like the car chase scene in the mall in the Blues Brothers movie, which she hasn’t seen, but is not at all opposed to.

I can’t tell you that.

I don’t want to. And I don’t want to get sued.

I can’t tell you that either. I think I left enough clues though where you would be able to guess.

It’s $2.99 in the USA and around that price everywhere else. 

Monday, July 1.

It’s slightly over 50 pages. It’s really short. I’ve vomited longer than it takes to read the book.

Sangria. Never again.

You can email me here, follow me on Twitter, or add me on Facebook.

You already asked that, but it’s okay. You can download a free Kindle reader to read the book on your computer, phone, or tablet. The book is also available on iTunes.

Here on this blog. Also Hello Giggles, The Frisky, Thought Catalog, and many other places that you can find on my website, And I post videos at

I would really, really prefer if you didn’t.

Comment on this post!

I DON’T KNOW! BUT YOU ARE! YOU’RE SHOUTING, YOU’RE SHOUTING, YOU’RE SHOUT— (gets hit on the hand with a candlestick.)


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Malibu Wedding.

sunset beach malibu

Once I accidentally went to a Malibu wedding. Sort of. My friends and I decided to spend a day at the beach. Living in Los Angeles, one gets spoiled and treats the beach as though it was another Starbucks; a sort of, “Oh, yeah, it’s everywhere, it will always be there.” At least my friends and I do, not being surfer types and not having beach houses of our own. So one day we thought, right, this exists, let’s hang out there. We sat on a Harry Potter blanket and discreetly drank wine coolers while we watched a fat man play volleyball with another fat man. They seemed to be having a good time.

After that, we all got stuck on the idea that we simply had to go to Moonshadows. Moonshadows is the restaurant where Mel Gibson famously got arrested and let a beautifully horrendous tirade spew forth. The infamous “The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world” and “What are you looking at, Sugar Tits” the greatest hits of Gibson all happened just down the beach from us. We thought perhaps we’d get a drink from their lounge but as the responsible and decent adults that we are, because we are not Mel Gibson, and if you are around Mel Gibson and he is around alcohol, you should just save everybody time and call the police. By the time you hang up the phone he’s going to be cursing Jews and stomping on houseplants like he’s King Kong all the while panting and screaming.

We made it into Moonshadows, feeling very grown-up, which is different from feeling very adult. We didn’t feel, “Ugh I wonder how much valet is going to cost and how much these drinks are going to cost” or anything of that nature. We felt, “Man, we look so cool. Are we allowed to even be in here? This is like being in a Bret Easton Ellis novel.”

And then it really got into Bret Easton Ellis territory. We’re sitting at a small booth and to the left of me is a very cool old woman. Cool in a different cool than we were. She was an established, kooky, “Fuck it, I’m old” cool. I noticed the owl pendant hanging around her neck. I told her much I liked it. She seemed thrilled by this. I really adored her. I thought she looked familiar but maybe I just wished I knew her.

Then it started. That beautiful pop new wave sound, with bittersweet undertones, all in earnest, of “The Promise” by When In Rome. And a bride and groom were dancing. It all happened very suddenly. The song, perhaps a dimming of lights, the swelling of joy — this was their moment, they must have planned it. And they’re dancing in the middle of this lounge, mouthing the words to each other, blissed out of their minds. I stared at them, respectful, slightly confused, but quietly enthusiastic. They saw me and smiled. The groom looked into my eyes, and said, with more joy in one sentence than I’ve heard in hundreds, “I’m marrying my best friend.”

My cynicism halted. I smiled back. I promise you, I promise you I will was all I heard and all I saw. Later my cynism about marriage would return, replaced with a bitterness once I watched helplessly as divorce took another marriage away, all the while with me stubbornly refusing to ever get married, ever.

I do want to get married. I don’t know if I want to marry my best friend. I’m still unsure about that idea. That the person you marry should also be your best friend. But that’s not important right now.

Ever since that night, I’ve fallen in love with that song. I hear it and even though I’ve forgotten what the couple looks like, I see them dancing, laughing, holding onto each other, have an occasional goofy moment, lip-synching, smiling endlessly.

I was so full of joy that I asked the kooky old woman next to me if we could take a photo with her. She seemed shocked and said, “Really?!” I said definitely. “Let’s go outside,” she said. She had a friend with her. “Do you know who that is?” she asked me. I paused. Yes, I knew now. “Phyllis Diller?”


And yes. She was.

“You made her night,” her friend told us. “She made  ours,” I said.

We took more photos, got into the car, and drove with the windows down back to where we once belonged. I looked at the ocean and in my head, over and over, If you need a friend don’t look to a stranger. You know in the end. I’ll always be there…I promise you. I promise you I will.

And that’s how I accidentally went to a Malibu wedding. Sort of.


The Promise by When in Rome on Grooveshark


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Shit that I am so into right now (part 2).

1. Big Macs.

Chinese Big Mac
Look at this. Look at this damn thing. I want to paint my face with this. I want to use it as a moisturizer. I want to stuff my bra with it. A Big Mac is 550 calories. That’s without fries or a drink. If you’re taking in 1500 calories per day, that’s like…a percentage of it that is large but I don’t know how to do simple math because fuck that. If I could eat this every single day without any repercussion  I would. I don’t understand people who don’t like McDonald’s. I understand why they dislike it for its unhealthy factor but who really hates the taste of it, I mean come on.

2. Lions.

Lion on a tree
Look at this fucking lion. This lion is thinking, “Fuck you, I’m a lion, I’m in a tree.” I’m a lion here. And it’s sexy.

3. Gangnam Style.

Yelp's Nerdy Dancing II: Revenge Of The Robot
I really, really wish that I was not into this but I am. I blame “Dancing with the Stars” and the spoof “Mitt Romney Style.” Look, whatever, what’s your guilty pleasure song? You know? Hey let’s just hug and high five forever.

4. Feeling Giddy.

audrey hepburn roman holiday

It’s like, when the breeze hits you in the face but not too powerfully you feel like maybe your entire life is full of promise and a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you are not going to die a sad failure.

5. The X-Files.

My friend Liza turned me into the lady X-File for my birthday.

I’m going to just copy/paste my feelings on the show from a Facebook status I posted:

WARNING: NERD ALERT! I started watching “The X-Files” from season 1. I’ve never seen the show from the beginning; I was more of a casual viewer. Here are some things I’m realizing about the show:

1. Gillian Anderson was only 24 when she started on the show, but her haircut makes her look 6+ years older.

2. The show is so fucking Canadian. I knew it was shot in Vancouver for a while but it just looks so…Canadian, I can’t explain it. Just very low budget and…Canadian.

3. Mulder is right about everything. The show should be called “Weird Shit That Mulder Is Always Right About.” Why even doubt him 3 episodes in? He’s always right in this world. And everyone acts like he’s insane, but if he’s so insane then…

4. Why even have an X Files bureau? At the end of each episode no one believes Mulder anyway and if they do, they sweep it under the rug, so why even have the department?

5. They always take on cases that aren’t theirs. Either they take on a local police department case, or Mulder reads something in a magazine and demands that he and Scully investigate. And Scully is the one who has to do the work. So when she’s writing these reports, for cases they weren’t assigned to, and turning them in, why aren’t her superiors saying, “Nice work, Dana. You’re fired.” ?

6. This one makes me so anxious: they don’t get enough sleep. They’re always interrupted in the middle of the night with weird phone calls, or they’re driving through America all night. But they never seem fatigued so I guess it’s okay for them. Really rustles my jimmies though.

Anyway, I’m finally ready to join 1994. Good to be here.

Check out Shit that I am so into (part 1).


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Vegas life lessons.

las vegas sign

I didn't even realize there was a bride and groom behind me. Who photo bombed who?

I love Las Vegas. If I could go there every other week I would. This was my second year at the Bloggers In Sin City conference. The first one changed my life in that it was something I would never do: get on a plane to meet a bunch of strangers and share a room with one of them and hang out with them for three days. This time I knew more of what to expect. I even had the same roommate (Kelly! Here’s her blog).

And this time, I learned a lot more. About myself. About people. About life. Here are my lessons. I hope we can all learn something.

There is so such thing as a 24 hour buffet. This is true not in only the literal sense; that as much as Vegas loves its buffets, it doesn’t have one that is open all the time. And thanks to the concierge for scoffing at us for asking. Sir you work in Vegas, and this is the question that throws you? But the life buffet is also not open 24 hours. When you have a delicious buffet, you need to savor every moment and get seconds, if not thirds. There is so much to try. Don’t focus on only one item. And when it inevitably ends, have something to look forward to. Except when you die, then it’s kind of over. Unless you believe in the afterlife in which case, have fun talking to John Edward on his loser show.  Continue reading


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almie rose brokechella apocalypstick

Thanks to photographer Raymond Liu!

Coachella is not my idea of fun; it’s more my idea of let’s make Uncle Almie cry. There’s lots of people, dirty hot sweaty people, and you have to throw money everywhere. If you can rock it out there, by all means, have fun in the assy desert. But if you’re high maintenance and totally fucking annoying like I am, Brokechella is the chella for you. Not to say that Brokechella was annoying; it was crazy fun and chill at the same time. It was a bunch of people in a warehouse getting free stuff and getting photographed and dancing to random LA bands that should be crazy famous but aren’t and eating and drinking. Big thanks to Cartel: Collaborative Arts L.A. for putting together such a creative and spirited event.

Continue reading


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