Category Archives: i don’t even know

SHUT UP APOCALYPSTICK.

Feb

2011

I don’t know what’s going on with me lately, or if this is something I’ve always done and haven’t noticed, BUT I CAN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP. By which I mean, if you engage me, I will go on tangents like they’re a free trip to Paris. If I’m introduced to a group, I am shy, unless I start drinking or unless you engage me. And if you engage me, watch the fuck out. You know those movies where there’s that adorable quirky girl that is fascinating? Or is supposed to be, but actually she’s not quirky, she just has no filter and won’t shut the fuck up?

HI!!!!!!!!

Last night I was at a dinner and I felt the need to tell this guy about myself, but 90% of what I told him was totally unnecessary and not remotely interesting. Example:

DUDE: What do you do?

ME: Oh I’m a writer, I mean sort of, I have this blog, wait here’s my card! I don’t mean to be weird it’s just I have these cards and I really like them but I’m trying to get rid of them because I should have gotten them glossy but I didn’t, so now I want to get them glossy but I should give these out first. But you seem really cool so I actually really want you to have my card. (Takes out card, gives it to guy. Guys says card is cool, thus making the mistake of engaging me further.) Yeah, I love these, I love the people who made my blog, they’re called Shaterboxx media, you should contact them if you need a website or blog or something, so I have this blog, it’s about dating and relationships and living in LA, but I don’t really know, so I do that, and I blog for other sites, and I used to have a part time job but I quit that, and now I’m doing something else, but this ring I’m wearing was from my old job, but anyway, I write and oh I also have a column for this magazine, it’s called Genlux, it’s this fashion magazine, I don’t know, I have a relationship column in it. We just did this photo shoot, it’s in the latest issue, with Emmy Rossum on the cover, where we did this fashion spread on bloggers and I was in it, but I wasn’t crazy about my hair at first but I don’t know, I always have issues with my hair. I just got my bangs trimmed.

YES. ALL HE ASKED ME WAS WHAT I DO.

Dustin, if you’re reading this, thank you for not punching me in the face.

There’s a fine line between Annie Hall and Annie, Get Your Gun And Shoot Yourself In The Face. Oh my God, these puns, I’m like Carrie Bradshaw. I mean I think she’s awesome, but she had some pretty bad puns. Isn’t it weird how she’s such a big cultural figure that she’s become more famous than Sarah Jessica Parker?

AND THERE WE GO WITH ANOTHER TANGENT.

I guess most of my blog is tangents, but I hope that they’re somewhat related to each other, like some weird inbred family. It’s just that my brain is constantly rambling with anecdotes and things that I shouldn’t say out loud, but actually most of the time it works out. Something that you would say to a normal person would get you slapped but maybe it’s because I’m charming or because I hang out with awesome people, but they get it. They go with it. If they don’t go with it, it’s awkward. It’s usually awkward either way, but it’s especially awkward when someone is on a totally different wavelength. It’s like what do you talk about? You talk about Facebook.

Facebook has replaced weather as the default conversation topic.

It’s sad but true?

I don’t know, I’m just going to shut up and drink my wine.

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Heaven Is Overrated.

Jan

2011

Pictured: not Train.

If you’re a part of my generation then you are more than familiar with the hit sounds of Train. I’m not talking about that Train that Ringo made sure was on schedule, but that was a good show, I’m talking about Meet Virginia, Soul Sister, motherfucking DROPS of JUPITER Train. And I happened to score an exclusive interview with the lead singer. Because I made it up.

APOCALYPSTICK: Hi, lead singer of Train!
LEAD SINGER OF TRAIN: (breaking into song) HAAAA-AAAY. HAAAAAAAAAAAY. HAAAA-AAAY HAAA-AAAAY.
A: Oh yeah, like that song you guys have that’s everywhere. How are you?
LST: Train!
A: Right, sure. Let’s start with the tough questions. Who would win in a knife fight: you or Rob Thomas?
LST: I am a peaceful man and I don’t believe in violence.
A: Okay but let’s say you’re in a knife fight with the Smashmouth guy, who would win?
LST: I would. I would stab the shit out of that guy.
A: Excellent. We thank you. In “Drops of Jupiter” you sing that, “She checks out Mozart while she does Tae Bo”. What the hell does that mean?
LST: She works out in front of a bust of Mozart. He’s great thinspiration. I thought I made that pretty obvious.

A: You seem to have an obsession with women working out. In “Meet Virgina” you sing about a girl who, “Wears high heels when she exercises.” You know women don’t do that, right?
LST: It’s a metaphor.
A: For what?
LST: For… (long silence) …America.
A: Okay. So back to “Drops Of Jupiter”–
LST: Are you going to keep asking me about “Drops Of Jupiter”?
A: From this point on, all questions will be about “Drops Of Jupiter” and “Drops Of Jupiter” only. Did you know that of this song and your performance of it at the Grammy’s a few years back, Kanye West said, “I liked when Train did ‘Drops of Jupiter.’ That was the first time I’d heard that song and I was like, ‘Oh shit, this is great!’”
LST: Yeah, Kanye and I are really tight.
A: Really? How so?
LST: I follow him on Twitter.
A: Uh…well, I mean…so do I. So does everyone.
LST: Yeah but I follow him really closely.
A: It doesn’t sound like you guys aren’t that close.
LST: We’re close. I always know exactly what’s on his mind.
A: So does everyone else. He’s Kanye West. He makes it known.
LST: (Pause.) Can we go back to “Drops Of Jupiter”?

A: Please. That song defined my high school years. Well, not all of them, just one. It wasn’t really the full year, it was maybe like six months. Or maybe it was in middle school, I have no concept of time. Then I kind of forgot about it, because I stopped buying those “Now That’s What I Call Music” CDs but then I got to that point where it was cool and fun to reminisce over 90s music and then I remembered the song and got in stuck in my head for another six months and now I think it’s the greatest pop song ever written, but my friend Dave says it sucks. What do you think?
LST: I think your friend Dave is a dick.
A: Oh snap! Now let’s talk about that key change, because the key change is what really makes the song. (I’m referring towards the end of DoJ: “did the wind sweep you off your feet“).
LST: That was my idea, that was all my idea. I have ideas.
A: Was the line about the soy latte your idea too? And, hey, what’s the best soy latte you’ve ever had?
LST: I don’t drink coffee. I just put that in there because it rhymed.
A: …It did? With what?
LST: It rhymed with this line we had before it but then we took that line out.
A: “She acts like summer and walks like rain.” How does one do that?
LST: Summer was this bitch I dated in high school and Rain is an exotic dancer with a limp.
A: You look so good and you’re in your 40s, how do you do it? You’re legit hot.
LST: Trains!!
A: Thank you for this made-up interview. I can’t wait for your next hit song that will nestle in my brain and play in a car commercial.

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Typical Apocalypstick Post.

Jan

2011

This is what we call, “phoning it in.”

Photo of Faye Dunaway/Brigitte Bardot/Jane Birkin/Audrey Hepburn/Veruschka/other celeb whose style I adore here.

Summation of my life thus far here. Pop culture reference here. Quoting myself and/or others here. Discussion of a guy I did things with/dated/whatever here. 90s pop culture reference here. Agonizing over said guy here. Giving advice here. Pop culture reference that doesn’t quite work as well as the others here.

Description of a party I went to here. How much I hated the party and everyone there here. Pop culture reference both here and here. Dialogue here. Rant here. Possible description of what I was wearing here, but probably not. Recollection of something said at the party here. My reaction to it here. Literary reference here. Possible name-dropping here. Pop culture reference to try to win you back here.

Looking on the bright side here. Strides towards positivity here. Sentences ending in exclamation points here! Uplifting words here. Obscure pop culture reference here. Passion here. Joy here.

Depravity here. Sinking feeling here. Twenty-something angst here. Realization that when I am in my thirties I will miss my twenty-something angst here. Joke that I do not want to make it to thirty here. Pause to wonder if it is really a joke here.

Then giddiness here. Promises of and for a better future here. Reference to drinking here. Possible description of what I’m drinking at the moment here. Joke here. David Lynch reference meets something else here. Talk of a failed relationship here. Advice here. Quote from a celebrity/musician/song/film/whatever here.

More exclamation points here!!! Lots of them here!!

Satisfying wrap-up or mystifying wrap-up here.

Song that I have been listening to or really like that usually has nothing to do with the post here. Most likely it’s a mash-up here.

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Clooney and Deadwife.

Nov

2010

Lately whenever I can’t sleep I turn on “Solaris” (the one starring George Clooney). What scares me the most about this film is that it was made in 2002, which makes me want to wring my hands and wonder what I’ve been doing with my life. The rest of this post is going to contain spoilers, and if you haven’t seen this movie that came out eight years ago that was based on a film that came out in the seventies then it’s really not my fault oh and PS in The People Vs. Larry Flynt, Larry Flynt won.

SOLARIS. George Clooney, for reasons I still don’t understand, is apparently the only guy in the world can go into space to save astronauts from themselves. Head astronaut dude says something like, “Something weird is happening and we’re fucked” and Clooney says, “Where are the security people?” and they said, “We sent them but they apparently never made it, no big deal” and Clooney says, “SIGN ME UP!” He doesn’t really ask for more details, which baffles me. It would take a lot more to get my ass into space.

Off Clooney goes into space. Once there, he walks around the ship in painful long shots and doesn’t float or anything. The who played Daniel Faraday, from Lost, is there, pretty much playing Daniel Faraday. I like the guy but something about his acting always makes me think, “I bet this is how he did in the audition.” I’m not sure what that means…something about his gestures, the way he trails off and leaves his hand figuring something out in midair, it seems so done, it always says “audition room” to me. Anyway that dude is there being all weird and disconnected and bearded.

By the way I’m still not sure what Solaris is, is if it’s the name of the ship, the mission, or the weird purply thing that I thought was the sky around them. Oh but the important thing is that Clooney’s dead wife randomly shows up on the ship. He freaks out at first. It’s not like he brought her body and it got reanimated. It’s like her, but not her. I’m not sure if this thing that is her was ever alive. It’s solid and visible but beyond that who knows. There’s also a little child running around. I think Solaris is doing this. But I wouldn’t know because no one has the courtesy of shouting, “GODDAMN IT SOLARIS!” to let me know. But the head ship lady is all like, “This thing is not your wife” and Clooney gets sassy and is like, “YOU’RE not my wife” and she’s like “We’re not bringing it back” and he’s like, “SHE’S GOT NOWHERE ELSE TA GOOOOOOO” except that was Richard Gere from that movie I’ve never seen, I only know this because of VH1’s ‘I love the 80s’ part 600. Again, if someone around this point could just frustratedly shout, “ARGHH, SOLARIS!” that would have been really helpful.

This movie is not a comedy. But it’s funny. When Deadwife first shows up, Clooney leads her into this little getaway pod, and she’s all wondrous and happy climbing inside, and then her face falls as the pod pulls back into space and Clooney has this expression on like, “Ahhh Solaris what have you done to me” and “I wonder how long we’re shooting this fucking thing tonight” and it’s all very funny in a David Lynch does cowboys sort of way.

This movie is haunted and strange but it’s also muddled and boring which is maybe why I’ve never seen the end. I keep falling asleep and then I have to watch what I missed as I was falling asleep to try to ease the confusion of it all, but I still don’t know what’s happening.

Sometimes it’s clear, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it’s weird. But ultimately it’s probably not as bad as I think it is. And that’s when I realized that sometimes, life is kind of like a weird movie like Solaris. (Except with life the great thing is, if I don’t understand something, I can ask for clarification. I don’t have to just sit back and view and wonder how many David Lynch movies Steven Soderbergh saw before he thought, “Yes, this is the style I will dress my little movie in.”) As with life, stuff happens and you think, huh that’s weird. Maybe it’s not finding dead Daniel Faraday in an over-sized overhead compartment bin. Or maybe it is, I don’t know what you do in your free time. But things happen that we can’t explain and there is a certain orchestrated beauty in this. I am starting to find this beauty and I am starting to look for the good before I look for the bad. I have to put more good out there than bad if I want to get more good than bad in return. And with life, as with Solaris, I can take it in pieces and I don’t have to know how it’s going to end.

I don’t know if I even need to see the end of this film. It’s probably going to turn out that he was dead the whole time, or he never existed, or he dreamed the whole thing, or it cuts to the cast of ER back when they were in their choice time slot and thinking, “Fuck you, Clooney.” I don’t know. I love Twin Peaks with all my heart but honestly? I’ve never seen season two. I have it. But it’s unopened. Because if I watch it, then the whole thing is over, forever. I don’t want Twin Peaks to end. Perhaps though it’s finally time for me to grow up.

I’ll probably just read the wikipedia for “Solaris.”

update: The amazing Ginger tried to help everyone out and change the wiki, but alas, the changes did not hold. Many thanks for your inspiring efforts!!!

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FUCK YOU, NEW ZEALAND MAN.

Aug

2010

“Excuse me,” I overhear you ask, in your lovely New Zealand accent,

Yes? I wonder,

“But if my wife doesn’t like this hat, can I return it?”

FUCK YOU NEW ZEALAND MAN. FUCK YOU WITH YOUR HAIR AND YOUR FACE AND YOUR SHIRT AND YOUR JEANS AND YOUR VOICE. GUESS WHAT BUDDY? ALL SALES ARE FINAL! NO! YOUR WIFE CAN’T RETURN YOUR GODDAMN PRECIOUS GIFT!

I’m sorry. I want you to know, New Zealand Man, that when I say “precious” I don’t mean it in a sarcastic manner. I think that you wanting to buy your wife a vintage straw hat really is precious. It is a precious gift. It is kind of you. Kind like your eyes.

NON -REFUNDABLE, PAL. I HOPE SHE FUCKING HATES IT!!!! I HOPE SHE OPENS THE BAG, HER EYES WIDE WITH HOPE AND PROMISE, AND THEN UPON SEEING THE HAT, I HOPE THE SHARP DISAPPOINTMENT IS OBVIOUS ON HER (LIKELY) PRETTY, PRETTY FACE. I HOPE SHE COMES CLOSE TO TEARS. I HOPE THE HAT REMINDS HER OF EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP. BUT OF COURSE, YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS PROBABLY AS PERFECT AS YOUR FACE, NEW ZEALAND MAN.

You walk in, with your long hair, your boyish face, in your outfit that your perfect wife probably picked out for you, except you probably chose those shoes, and you make everyone want to know more about you and then with one simple request your ruin it all. What kind of husband are you, anyway? Aren’t you a little young to be married? Aren’t you a little young to be buying your wife a hat? Don’t you have to be in your 50s to do something like that? Who the hell are you, New Zealand Man? Where did you come from, aside from New Zealand?

AND WHERE IS YOUR WIFE, ANYWAY? SHE’S PROBABLY OFF DOING MISSIONARY WORK. SHE’S PROBABLY MODELING. SHE’S PROBABLY BUSY BEING FAMOUS. WHERE IS YOUR HOME, NEW ZEALAND MAN? VENICE? SANTA MONICA? ECHO PARK? WHERE DID YOU COME FROM? WHO ARE YOU?

I’m sorry, New Zealand Man. It’s just that you’re too perfect to be here. You’re too perfectly wrong. WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN A STORE ON A THURSDAY AFTERNOON? SHOULDN’T YOU BE WORKING? I KNOW WHY I’M HERE, BUT WHY ARE YOU? DON’T QUESTION ME, NEW ZEALAND MAN. I’LL ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE. I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY DO THINGS IN NEW ZEALAND BUT HERE IN AMERICA WE HAVE RULES, BUDDY. OUR RULES ARE THAT IF YOU LOOK LIKE YOU AND HAVE THE ACCENT THAT YOU HAVE, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A WIFE. LOOK IT UP IN THE CONSTITUTION. SEARCH FOR IT IN THE FLAG. IT’S PRINTED ON OUR MONEY.

I hope that you and your wife have a long and happy life together and I hope that she hates the hat. Really, really, really hates the hat.

“Sorry,” I hear her say. “All sales are final.”

You chuckle. CHUCKLE! A kind chuckle. A, “Aw shucks, I’m just happy to be here!” chuckle. You tell her that you’ll just have your wife come over and look at it then.

YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME, SPORT. YOU GO SHOPPING FOR YOUR WIFE WITH YOUR WIFE? NOW YOU’RE JUST SHOWING OFF. GET OUT OF HERE. GET BACK TO YOUR ART STUDIO. YOU’RE PROBABLY A PAINTER. OR A PHOTOGRAPHER. OR MAYBE YOU’RE A MUSICIAN. YOU PROBABLY HAVE LIKE SIX GUITARS AND YOU PROBABLY SING ABOUT WHY THINGS IN LIFE AREN’T SO BAD. I didn’t look at your wife before I left. But I can imagine her. I can imagine her crinkling her nose at the hat and waving it away. I can imagine hating her even more for it. But you probably take no offense.

Fuck you, gentle soul.

Get It On My Mind (Marvin Gaye vs. The Pixies) — Dj Zebra

Warning! This mash-up may change your life.

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How Am I Not Myself?

Aug

2010

I think the worst thing someone can do is dictate how you should feel. If someone tells you to calm down, you’re going to get angrier. If someone tells you to cheer up, you’re going to sulk. If someone tells you to move on, you’re going to punch them in the face.

Speaking of faces, I thought I’ve been putting on a good one. I go out and I think I’m OK. I think I’m myself. Then someone proves to me that I’m not. Someone will ask me if I’m upset about something. Or if I’m sedated. Then I realize that I wasn’t fooling anyone. My emotions, or lack thereof, were as obvious on my face as red lipstick. I hate admitting that I’m having a hard day, week, month (year I’llbethereforyouuuu) and I especially hate putting it here on my blog because I want people to think that I am indestructible, like Iron Man, at all times. I’ve never seen Iron Man but from what I’ve gathered from the posters, he appears to be indestructible. I think he wears a metal robot suit. The commercials let me know that he’s also really cool because he wears sunglasses and carries briefcases and smokes.

So, yes, I am not having the best time right now. I was for a little while and then it came crashing down on my foot. I also hate declaring that I’m not doing well, because from what I know and have seen and personally experienced, it could be a lot lot lot worse. I do have my health. I have my family. Those two things are the essentials in life, and two out of two is fantastic. It’s just my feelings that aren’t OK and what are feelings but things that annoy us anyway? It’s not real. It’s not like I can just check out because I have feelings. If I had malaria no one would fault me for avoiding life. But feelings?

It’s just a culmination of things right now. I’ll be fine soon. I’m supposed to be fine now. I’m not. Suck my balls. I’m sorry. I hope that one day I will be able to write something without cursing or being crude. I also hope that one day I’ll be able to write something and not make a pop culture reference. This is maybe my biggest goal after appearing on “Mad Men.”

In the mean time Ob la di. Ob la da. Sometimes I wish that this blog was a secret website where I could say what I really wanted to say. Then I remember that’s what diaries are for. I remember how I used to write in journals. Now the idea pains me. I don’t want to hand write everything. I’m not Abe Lincoln. I have a fucking computer. But I think my reliance on computers has weakened my handwriting. Do you remember when you were a kid and you would forge your parents’ signature on something? You would do it slowly and carefully thinking, “This is how she signs it.” This is how adults write. That’s what my handwriting looks like. Like a kid trying to write like how they think an adult would write. It’s ghastly.

To quote someone I never, ever thought I would quote earnestly: “[I] want to change my clothes, my hair, my face.”

87 Sundays — Ruth

This song is a lost gem from the 1960s. It is depressing but in the best kind of way.

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Titles Are Apparently Important.

May

2010

WORKING TITLES FOR MY BOOK

Apocalypstick

Apocalypstick: True Tales of True Mistakes

Apocalypstick: Stories of My Misspent Youth

Apocalypstick: By Bret Easton Ellis

Apocalypstick: I Don’t Even Know

I Don’t Even Know

I Will Get Drunk and Hit On Your Boyfriend

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing: Please Buy This Book

And It Was The Most I’d Ever Pooped: The Almie Rose Story

Did You Get My Text: The Almie Rose Story

Apocalypstick: Nonfiction from Someone Non Famous

I Can’t Tell Because I Left My Glasses In The Car: Is That Guy Cute?

I Was Drinking When I Wrote This

I Hate Pants: The Almie Rose Story

I Thought Of A Really Good Title This One Time On Gchat But I Can’t Remember What It Was and I Don’t Feel Like Looking Back In All of My Archived Gchats

I’m Just Sitting Here, Awkwardly

Ugh: Look At This Bitch’s Facebook Status

I’m Better With High Fiving: The Almie Rose Story

Apocalypstick: How Not To Date In Los Angeles

I Think I Saw You On The Cobrasnake

Apocalypstick: Boom!

Boom!

Exclamation Points: A Love Story

What Are You Guys Doing Later?

Pretend To Wave

I Just Remembered That I Have Spicy Ramen: This Night Got Better

I’m Going To Go Eat The Ramen