Category Archives: jealousy

On Jealousy


Hey, writers: you ever have something you really want to put out there, but you’re afraid of how it will be received? This is one of them.

Sometimes you’re riding through life in a convertible and the sun is shining, but isn’t too hot, it’s just right, and your favorite song is playing, and you’ve got your babes by your side (yes, babes, not babe), and you’re thinking, “Wow, life is wonderful.”

But sometimes, it is too hot, and you’re sweating, and your ass is sticking to your fake leather seat, and the radio is playing a bunch of bullshit and you’re alone, and you’re thinking, “Wow, life sucks.”

And you look over in the other lane and you see an asshole who is just cruising, and you think, “Screw that guy, I’ve got a convertible, too, I’m a good person, too, why is he having fun and I’m not? I hate him.”

(That long-ass, long-winded analogy is about jealousy, in case you didn’t you get that.)

And my point is that, I’m usually pretty good at not even looking in the other lane and if I do, I nod my head, and reluctantly let the driver merge. Uh, this is also a metaphor, because when I’m actually driving, I definitely check the surrounding lanes, and I always let people merge, because I am a safe driver, and my insurance company will tell you that.

You get what I’m saying? Okay, if not, here it is: I’m usually really good with keeping my jealousy in check.

But sometimes, I’m not. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because, to go to the default, “I’m human.” Maybe because I feel the world owes me something it doesn’t. Maybe because I’ve had too much to drink.

And when this happens, I go into a real gross, ugly place. I think, “Why is ‘Sally LeAwesome’ killing it, and I’m not? Yeah, Sally LeAwesome is my friend, and I’m totally happy for her, but I remember a point where I had way more Twitter followers than she did, and now not only does she have more followers, but she sold a pilot, and has great abs! Fuck Sally LeAwesome!”

When this happens, I feel terrible, for two main reasons: 1. because jealousy is a terrible feeling, and 2. because I feel petty, and I hate feeling petty (unless it’s TOM PETTY, am I RIGHT??? HA. A HA HA HA. A HA HA HA HA HA!)

So what do I do? I get over it. How? I remind myself that their success in no way detracts from mine, and they’re my friend who worked hard to succeed, so good on them. And if they’re not my friend? I shrug my damn shoulders and eat a sandwich and then usually feel better after that.

But as lame as jealousy is, I still feel it’s important to discuss. I’m totally over pretending like I never get jealous. I don’t think that’s healthy, or remotely helpful. I think if we all just admitted that we get jealous, we’d have a much better chance at succeeding for ourselves. Because if you say, “Hey, I’m jealous of Sally LeAwesome, but that’s okay,” you can move on with your damn life and work even harder to be good. But if you deny it, you just let it fester, and the next thing you know, you have to have your leg amputated and your convertible needs a car wash.

I’m sorry, those metaphors got away from me there.

Hopefully, you get my point.

My confession: I get jealous. Sometimes, checking Facebook hurts my soul. But I’m okay with that. There’s nothing wrong with me. I want my friends to succeed and kick ass, but there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you know what, I want to succeed and kick ass, too.

How do you conquer jealousy? What makes you jealous?

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Photo by Nina Leen via LIFE photo archives for Google.


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Our lives suck.

january jones met gala

Unless you're January Jones, then it's perfect. For now.

“Your life is so glamourous!” People tell me. Yes, it is. On Instagram. On Instagram my life looks as fun as Disneyland inside of another Disneyland. But I don’t think my life is awesome. It kind of sucks sometimes. I think all of our lives suck sometimes. But if all of our lives suck then why is it that we think other peoples’ lives are great? We all complain and we all wish we had better lives. We say, “Crispin Jones has such an awesome life, why can’t I be Crispin? Crispin hangs out with Quentin Taratino and gets invited to all the Nylon parties and works as a full time blogger and owns a cologne business, Crispin has it going on and I feel bad.” There’s a Crispin in all of our lives. This one is made up, but I bet someone out there knows someone with the exact descriptions that I just gave this fake Crispin.

Everyone’s lives look better than ours but our lives look fantastic to other people. It’s true. If there is someone out there who thinks their life is awesome and amazing and cannot be topped, please tell me. Not so I can try and argue with you or prove you wrong but because I want to praise you and learn your secrets. It doesn’t matter what your job is in life or who you know; there are people out there who lead average lives but love them. That’s what it’s about. Not about looking glamorous. But about feeling glamorous, for real, even if all you do is work a 9-5 job and the thing you look forward to most in life is the Thursday night line-up on NBC. I can think of hundreds of people who would envy that life.

I blame the bloggers. The bloggers look so freaking cool on their little Internets. People think I’m cool but guys, I’m not, and I never claimed to be. If you look at the header of this blog you see that I think I’m awkward and I am. I met my celebrity crush and told him his head was too big. That’s fucking awkward and totally uncool. And I look at other bloggers who are part time models and full time awesome and I have to suffocate my jealousy “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” style. And honestly, I know that my life isn’t terrible and there are wonderful moments and I’m lucky for what I have. But I’m also great at being a selfish and superficial jerk who complains that her apartment is too big for her wireless router’s signal.

Why does your life suck? Tell me, maybe we can have a contest about whose life sucks more.


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Whatever happened to the teenage dream?

justin bieber wrapping paper

I mean this is what instagram was made for, right?

Why did I hate being a teenager so much? Being a teenager is awesome. Nothing you do matters. Nothing. Teenagers, I’m not trying to put you down; on the contrary. I’m trying to empower you. Don’t you realize how awesome it is when nothing you do matters? You can do anything. Anything! Go to school, don’t fuck up your grades, and then do whatever the hell you want. Stay out late on a school night. Wear something stupid. Be ignorant. Don’t try to be an adult. Being an adult kind of sucks, I’m gonna be real. There are a lot of great things about my life, like I get to legally drink (even though I still get carded which is both flattering and extremely embarrassing), I don’t have to tell my parents what I’m doing all the time, and I can basically say, “Fuck this shit, I’m an adult!”

Now here are the downsides: as an adult, drinking takes a harder toll on my body, I actually miss my parents telling me what to do because now I have to make those decisions for myself, and if I say, “Fuck this shit, I’m an adult!” I have to deal with the consequences, good or bad. And guys, my knees hurt. I’m in my twenties, not even my late twenties, and my fucking knees hurt after a workout. Which reminds me, does anyone have a good workout DVD/whatever other than The 30 Day Shred? Because The Shred works but it kills my knees every time. And as vain as I am, I don’t think it’s worth it. So yeah, your stupid knees hurt and you have to find a job and keep it because you have to pay for boring shit like bills, and sometimes you cry in the corner of the shower thinking, “LOLOLOLOL” in your brain. Because being an adult can be absurd.

I didn’t appreciate being a teenager because as a teenager I felt ugly, hated that I looked so young, and wished I didn’t have to go to school. Those were my problems. Those aren’t problems. Those are, “Shut up you’re not ugly, one day you will LOVE being told you look young, and get your shitty body to school you idiot it’s a lot easier than real life.”

Teenagers: have some fucking fun. I mean it. If not for you, then for Uncle Almie.


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I suck at everything.

Good news, everyone! I suck at everything! I want to cry and throw things and scream and laugh all at the same time, but I can’t. And you know why? Because I suck!

I usually talk about how even when things suck you have to find a way out because the more you say and believe they suck, the more they will.

SUCK SUCK SUCK EVERYTHING SUCKS I DON’T CARE, COME AT ME UNIVERSE. WITH YOUR MAGIC SUNSETS. I DARE YOU. Throw a sunset in my face, see if I give a fuck. I don’t. Spoiler alert GONE because I just said it. I DON’T GIVE A FUUUUU

How many times have I written that it’s okay to feel bad and it’s okay to suck as long as you realize it and then you can rise above it? So why can’t I? I am terrible at taking my own advice.

It’s so much easier to suck at everything than to try hard at anything.

The frightening truth is that I am not happy or okay with who I am, and I may never be. I was drifting along, like a plastic bag in the LA River, when I felt hate and loathing slowly pulse throughout my veins. For myself. People are like, “Shut up so many people would love to have your life” and I’m like, “So what who cares” and they’re like “You’re acting like a child” and I’m like “Nu uh I’m an adult” and then my mom hangs up the phone.


I keep trying to work on my book. I take one step forward and two vodka shots back. It’s hard! It’s hard you guys! And what’s the point, anyway? Who cares? “I would rather watch somebody buy their underwear than read a book they wrote.” – Andy Warhol (true story).

There are so many people out there who are so much better than I am. And by better, I mean famous.

Guys life is hard. These are worse than White Girl Problems. These are Apocalypstick Problems. Or even Uncle Almie Problems.

Why do you suck?


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Yeah, Fuck It. Seriously.

Fuck you, guitar man. Fuck you for looking beautiful as you got on stage with your guitar. Sure, you were dressed like a bartender and before you got on stage I thought you worked here, but now it’s all different. Fuck you for singing and playing the guitar so well. I don’t even know if you’re playing it well or if your general attractiveness is just translating through everything, but fuck you anyway.

Fuck you for looking like a more grown-up version of my ex, who I hope has been attacked by bears and after the bears attacked him they left him for vultures and the vultures did what they could and then a shark joined in, it actually got up out of the ocean and hobbled over, and then the bears came back because they decided they weren’t done (you know how bears are). Fuck you for looking like him and doing a really great cover of a great classic rock song mixed with another great classic new wave song. Bitch.

Fuck you for that glimpse of wedding ring that I didn’t catch until your very last song. Fuck you for being married. Fuck everyone for being married.

Fuck everyone who has ever let me down. You will never make your way back. You’re on my list. There is no getting off of this list. All of the pizza parties in the world will never get you off of this list. Oh, you don’t care? You don’t care that you’re on this list, guitar man? Too bad. Because I am an amazing friend. Once you’re my friend I will remain loyal to you with a ferociousness that is both admirable and a little scary. I am generally a good person. I am kind, generous with money, will show up to your Facebook events, and I fuck like a champion. So fuck you, guitar man. Fuck all of the guitar men of the world. And fuck you, Prince. I don’t even have a reason, but fuck you.

How Dark Is Your Dark Side — His Name Is Alive


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What To Do When You’re Jealous.

If you’re like me, then you’re a jealous person. And if you’re more jealous than I am that makes me jealous. Does that give you some idea of how jealous I am?

Unfortunately it’s not cool to be jealous. If it were I would be like Chuck Bass…or…Brian Setzer…or whoever the fuck kids think is cool these days.

Therefore here are some tips on what to do when you get really, really jealous:

1.) Laugh. But not loudly like, “HA HA HA LOUD NOISES I LOVE LAMP!” More like, “Chuckle chuckle oh silly person so funny you should think I would even care about this information.”


“Did you hear? David just got signed with CAA!”

Your response: Smile, as sincerely as you can. Take a sip of your martini (P.S., now would be a good time to start drinking martinis, if you don’t already) and say, “That’s fantastic. David must be so excited! ” Then from here you can either:

a.) Change the subject like it’s your fucking job or
b.) Casually drop some unfortunate news about the aforementioned piece of news.

“Oh my God, have you seen the new Woody Allen movie?” is a line that works really well, if you’re going to go with option a.), because it doesn’t matter if you’ve actually seen it and he’s always cranking out movies. Or you could go with, b.), “I heard CAA just did a massive round of cutbacks; I hope David found a secure agent!” The more concerned you can sound the better you’ll look. Remember, you want people to think that you actually care.

2.) This is an oldie, but you can always bring up something awesome about yourself to counter something awesome that you friend brought to the table.


“My boobs got huge! Isn’t that weird? I had to go up 3 cup sizes!”
“Wow, Jennifer, that’s great! By the way did I tell you that I ran into Ben Stiller yesterday and introduced myself and now he’s hired me as an assistant? It’s crazy! Out of nowhere I got this awesome-paying job! I guess that’s LA for ya, huh?”

Also, I recommend lying. Think about it this way: would you rather look like a jealous maniac, or soothe it all over with a silly little lie that makes you feel better? You got it space dogs, go with the lie.

P.S. From what I may or may not have heard from a few sources you do not want to EVER be Ben Stiller’s assistant.

3.) This one is tricky to pull off, but here goes: be really, really happy for that person. But not deliriously happy; again, we’re going for realism. I’m talking about this kind of happy:

“Tom I am so happy to hear about your new record deal! Really, I am. Let’s celebrate! Why don’t you buy me another drink and I’ll spot you for the rest of the night? You rockstar, you!”

And there you go: you’ve got a free drink and hopefully after that drink you’ll feel much better about the whole situation and won’t wind up texting your mom while crying in the bathroom thinking that you have no prospects in your future.

If none of these works and you still feel jealous as hell, think about it this way: life is all about luck and numbers. Don’t let people tell you shit like, “You just gotta really want it.” That’s asshole talk. That’s lazy advice. It’s like, Oh really, asshole, you mean I have to actually *want* it? As opposed to not wanting it? Gee, thanks!

Most of life’s big breaks come about by being in the right place at the right time and not being a total moron. And when that fails you, look at the statistics. Statistically, you will at some point in your life get a steady job and a loving partner of your own. It’s not brain surgery (or rocket science, haha gosh I’m silly) — it’s just looking at it from the point of view as life as a series of percentages and probabilities, not as a great cosmic entity. Because numbers don’t lie.

And yes, I am very jealous of Jayne Mansfield, even though she’s dead.


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