Category Archives: name-dropping

Readers talk back.

A long ass time ago I said I would interview the 1,000th person to “like” me on on Facebook and I did and then I forgot to post it because I’m an asshole. Congrats to Hillary for being my 1,000th like and to Matthew for being my superfan. I interviewed them both. They’re hilarious. Thank God. I mean, of course they are!!! Why wouldn’t they be??

1. Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?

M: Well, obviously. I also often feel like one that is drifting through the wind. Wanting to start again.

H: Totally. Actually, not totally. Partially. Actually, I feel kind of like a paper bag sometimes. Like, a paper bag can’t really drift through the wind, but it can definitely roll around on the ground while it tries to make it’s way to some new life experience. Also, “Paper Bag” is my fave Fiona Apple song. Yes, Fiona Apple is still relevant to me. 


2. How did you find my blog?

M: Well you see, I know this poet person (she tweets like a tweet god @fartmaster5000, that’s not her real name. lol) and she posted a video of yours on her Tumblr, “How To Get Over A Break Up”, which is still my favorite video of yours. For a while, I only watched your videos and LOVED them. Then, I eventually found and read your blog religiously and told ALL my friends about you and your loveliness. 

H: If I’m remembering correctly, I found your blog through Filleosophy. I believe it was when you gals did that advice formspring thingy. Then I proceeded to read every single one of your entries. You think I’m joking? Is Mick Jagger your real dad? Yes. 


3. What do you order at Starbucks?

M: Tall Carmel Macchiato, because life is sweet!

H: Starbucks is so intimidating! It’s like going to a foreign country where you don’t speak the language and the locals aren’t very friendly. I’ve only been once, and that was for a meeting with my boss. I didn’t order anything. Instead, I sat there clinging to my purse for dear life and making note of all the exits. What in the hell is a venti? Sounds like a type of car to me. 


4. What is your dream job? (It doesn’t have to exist!)

M: At times, being homeless in New York seems like it would be my dream “job”. I actually plan on attending film school, so I guess my dream job would be a film directing job. Or, you know, being a bum on the street. I’ll take what I can get.

H: This is really tough because I think I’d be content with doing nothing my entire life. Literally. I could sit and do nothing forever. BUT that is no way to live, so I think my dream job would have to be a professional people watcher. Is that creepy? I don’t mean it to be. I just want to go all over the world and observe. I don’t need interaction, just observation. Is that creepy? I think it probably is. Whatever, this is my dream and you’re all living in it. 


5. Someone is visiting your city/town. Tell them where to go and what to wear and what NOT to do.

M:  Hahaha! Well, I live in this little town called Paulding, Ohio. I think the population is around 8,000. So, as you might expect, fashion and culture isn’t exactly busting from every corner. I guess I would tell them to go to the nearest exit, wear whatever you please, and to NEVER come back again??

H: Welcome to Raleigh, North Carolina! We have something for everyone in this fair city! Would you like to go to a place where all the dudes are named ‘Trip’ and wear Callaway visors? Natty Greene’s, it is. How bout a bar full of flannel-clad men with beards and Buddy Holly glasses? Raleigh Times, it is. Better yet, want to go somewhere where you can drink three Long Island Iced Teas and ask the D.J.(multiple times) to play “Diva” by Beyonce and can he turn the fog machine on pleazzzz? Downtown Sports Bar, baby. (Yeah, I did that once. I love Beyonce. And fog). What to wear? Stick to skinny jeans, a tank top, and heels (or black flats, if you’re me). If it’s cold, throw on a blazer. I’ve also seen lots of girls wearing fur vests lately. I used to want one until I saw that lots of girls are wearing them lately. What NOT to do? There’s nothing you can’t do! Just like NYC. I will say this, though: don’t be from any other state besides North Carolina. I’m pretty sure smuggling cocaine into the country is easier than getting into a bar with a Virginia license. You think this i.d. with the pretty dogwood flower background is a fake, man? OKAY. WHATEVER. This thing has RAISED PRINT, dude. 


Follow Hillary here and read her blog here. Follow Matthew here.


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How I met my boyfriend on Google+.

This isn’t me and my boyfriend but you can totally pretend it is, I’m fine with that.

Google+ is great for posting stuff that you’re too embarrassed to post on twitter and facebook, since no one uses it. What is the sound of one hand clapping? Google+. Where do good statuses go to die? Google+. Where’s the best place to hide a dead body? Google+. And so forth.

So who would have ever thought that Google+ would help me find my boyfriend? Most people don’t even know what Google+ is. I explain that it’s like Facebook if no one used Facebook. You connect with people, post statuses, and you would use it to procrastinate if it weren’t so horribly boring.

But that’s not important right now.

My friend posted a status of a ridiculous iphone cover that looked like real sushi. I wrote about it on Hello Giggles, but that’s not what this story is about. And now I’m hungry. Why does everything bad happen to me? Anyway. He posted this photo of this sushi phone and I commented on how awesome it was and then found other awesome things on that website and posted those on his Google…circle…wall…whatever, as well.

Then a message from someone else popped up. Because Google+ is as dead as any graveyard, the bones of interactions past still remain. Here is exactly what I saw:

“Is this the Almie that went to Emerson for a little while back in ’03? I think I may know you.”

Rather than say something like, “No you must be thinking of another Almie who went to Emerson in ’03” I decided not to be a sarcastic jerk for once and responded that yes, it is the same Almie:

“You’l [sic] have to forgive me, my time at Emerson is a blur. Did we have the same classes or something?

 Fucking suave, Uncle Almie.

I want to add that my time at Emerson was very brief and very blurry. I was going through a serious depression at the time. We’re talking Kirsten Dunst, can’t bathe for herself, “It tastes like ashes” Melancholia depressed. I was there for one semester. I did manage to be pretty involved in the community. I auditioned for and got one of the two newscaster roles for the SNL Weekend Update type show EVVY Update to be aired on the Emerson school channel. We would report on what students were doing for the EVVYs which was some kind of student run award show for students and I don’t remember what EVVYs stand for or what we actually did but I do remember that Chloe’s dad was kind enough to film a “Congrats to the EVVY winners!” clip for the show, that I’m wondering if they ever used, and Chloe’s dad has a secret bathroom in his office, where the bathroom door looks like a wall and you don’t know it’s a door until he presses it in and then you’re like, “Holy shit, Chloe’s dad is Batman.”

But that’s not important right now.

I also managed to get on the writing staff of the comedy magazine. It was here that I met my friend Dave Horwitz — but I don’t remember us being friends at all. Years later we connected back in LA (via MySpace, MY LIFE IS THE INTERNET) and he told me, “Don’t you remember me? We were on the comedy magazine together.”

I blinked.

“…We sat next to each other every week.”


“I saw you doodling pigs wearing top hats.”

“Oh yeah!! I remember those!”

My point is, I sat next to this guy every week for months and I didn’t remember him at all. This is important to the story. The story of how I met my boyfriend on Google+ not how I met Dave Horwitz on MySpace. That’s a good story too, but I kind of just told it. Oops.

So. My future boyfriend just told me that he remembered me from Emerson and I told him, basically, “Who the fuck are you?” [“Did we have classes together?”] He said:

“I don’t think so, actually. I think it was even vaguer than that. Like we were both commuter students and met at a commuter event or something maybe…”

I wasn’t a commuter student. Like, not even close. I decided it was time to kick this shit into full gear. It was time to take this to Facebook.

I contacted him on facebook and we exchanged flirty messages back and forth, the kind where I would be giddy to see that little “1” in my inbox and I would ask my friend Katie, “How should I respond??” and she would say something and I would ignore it and then do whatever I wanted.

So we arranged to meet. We met at a trendy wine bar on the border of Los Feliz/Silver Lake/Narnia where the bartenders had old timey barbershop quartet mustaches and the patrons were loud and recorded themselves having fun on their iphones. We had a wonderful first date, and I will tell this story at some point, if anyone cares.

A few dates later, he confessed that we had indeed met before. We’ve since determined that it was likely outside a showing of “Lost In Translation” near my dorm. Apparently, we stopped to chat and we even exchanged numbers. And I don’t remember this. By the time he called me, I had already dropped out and moved back to LA, which I told him on a message I left him. And again, I don’t remember any of this. But through the magic of the internet, we found each other again.

Aw you guys, right??

So without Google+ I never would have (re?) met this great guy. Thus, I can never leave Google+. I will go down with this ship.

How did you meet your sig other? Do you believe in fate?



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Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?

Photo of my friend Chelsea as Edie taken by Lisa.

I do, sometimes. (I’m quoting Katy Perry who sings, “Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind wanting to start again?”). I cringed at first with this simple “American Beauty” inspired lyric, but now when I’m feeling down all I have to say is, “I feel like a plastic bag” and my friends just get it.

Things are pretty much super in my life right now, so of course I wish it was different.

You want a rocket ship and then you get a rocket ship and suddenly you panic and think, no I don’t want this fucking rocket ship I want a boat. It’s something like that. It’s the feeling you get when everything is going right.

Contrary to what you’d think, it rarely feels good to feel right.

It’s like, this is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife. How did I get here? Where are my keys? I lost my phone.

The easiest thing to do in this situation is to take a deep breath and say, happily, “I don’t give a fuck.” Look at your watch and realize that it’s I Don’t Care O’clock. It’s freeing. I’ve also found that it actually really helps to listen to the Katy Perry song (“Firework”). When I’m stuck in traffic on the drive home I blast it 4 times in a row. My drive home is an hour and a half. If anyone wants to make me a mix and post it/has a mix already made, please link me. It would make my days. It’s in bold because it’s really important.

So what’s my problem? If everything is so good why does it feel so weird?


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Deepak Chopra and Donny Osmond.

Me with “Donny Osmond”

Hey everyone! I just got back from Bloggers In Sin City and I have a lot to share! If you want you can see a sneak peak if you friend me on Facebook (and you should anyway! You know, only if you want to.)

ALSO. I am a featured vyou…person. Which means I am on the homepage! Right under Deepak Chopra! So ask me anything you’ve ever wanted to know about me. I would prefer if it wasn’t relationship related but if you’ve got a burning question, go for it!

I love you all and I’ll have a proper update this week! xxo.


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High And Dry.

Photo of PrettyBoi by Ian Asbjørnsen

Hello everyone. I’m sorry I’ve been away. Like I mentioned before, I have a lot of insane things going on in my life right now. But not good insane, more like a “Let me tell my story on Oprah” insane or, to quote this dude Max, “Season finale shit” insane. I’m still not ready to talk about it, but I want you to know that I’m sorry I haven’t updated and I’m sorry I have responded to your emails. Don’t give up on me!

It’s very tempting to give up on people sometimes. We have all been guilty of that at some point in our lives. Maybe not Julie Andrews, but everyone else. And I am telling you, as someone who knows, please do not give up on your friends when they need you. Don’t assume that they’ll want to be alone or not want to be alone — just ask them. Ask them how they’re doing but really ask. Tell them to put on a party dress and take them somewhere, and it doesn’t matter if that somewhere is a party or a Supermarket, just do it.

My friend Kimme did exactly this. Despite the fact that she lives in Beverly Hills and I live in the valley and the restaurant was in Laurel Canyon and the party after that was in Los Feliz, she picked me up at my house. Now that is friendship. If you’re from L.A., you know that what I have just described is hardcore friendship. The theme of said party was psychedelic, post-apocalypse 60’s  esque pop stars or something, so naturally Kimme and I decided to dress in serious 80s fashion. She wore a boxy business suit with hair piled over to one side, and I dressed like a dancer from Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” video. We got to the party and Kimme introduced me to her friend whose mom actually was one of the dancers in the video. I apologized for accidentally dressing like her mom but thankfully she thought it was awesome. Then later I sat down next to this dude I’m pretty sure I’ve met like six times, who was wearing a jumpsuit and talking about how Prada’s new tan leather suit collection is “too mundane.” But it was exactly what I needed.

Reach out to a friend today you haven’t spoken to in a while. Call them, say hi. They’ll probably say hi, after a long pause. Then you’ll say, “How are you?” and they’ll say “…Fine. Is everything okay?” And you say, “Yes, why?” And they’ll answer, “You haven’t spoken to me in like, eight years.” And you can say, “This internet blog told me to call a friend.” And they’ll say, “What?” And you can tell them, “Yes,” And they won’t be able to hear that, so you’ll have to repeat it for them. You’ll have to say, “No NO. It’s A-P-O-C! CCCC-A-L-Y-P-S-T-I-C-K! K! LIKE APOCALYPSE, BUT WITHOUT THE E. TAKE THE E OFF. ADD ‘TICK’ TO THE S. IT’S REALLY NOT THAT HARD, CHRIST.” And they’ll say, “What is your problem?” And you’ll get frustrated and say, “THIS IS WHY WE NEVER TALK.” Then a few months from this you’ll get a text from your friend Cristy or something that says, “PARTY 2NITE!” and you go to the Party 2Nite, and guess who’s there? It’s your friend you tried to call and reconnect with. You’re going to pretend like you don’t see each other for the first hour of the party but then you’ll both me a little loosened up and you’ll hear Radiohead’s “High And Dry” play in the background and you’ll reminisce about that crazy middle school/high school/college trip and together you’ll join into the chorus, “DON’T LEAVE ME DRRRRRYYYYY-EEEYYYEEE” and you don’t even like Radiohead. And you’ll say it was good to see each other.

So do that and tell me how it goes.


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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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Aahh!! Enjoy this behind-the-scenes look at the blogger shoot for Genlux magazine that I shot and edited using the diabolical iMovie. I think this will be in the winter issue. Basically it’s a fashion shoot with L.A. bloggers instead of models, bloggers like yours truly, Molls (of Molls She Wrote! and general internet superstardom), Sara (of Waitin Round 2 B A Millionaire), Ami (of My Fashion Database), and Aimee (of Smashbox Yello!). I got to jump around in lace-up Yves St. Laurent wedges and feel important. A successful day, in my opinion.


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