Category Archives: new york

FUCK YOU, KOREA MAN.

This post was written last Friday around 10:30 PM.

bob dylanHave you felt that moment when you look up someone you had a crush on and they have a girlfriend and live in fucking KOREA I AM SO FUCKING LONELY? What the hell and why do I ruin everything? This was in college and I had my moment and I didn’t resist the shining adventure and we had sex in my bathroom while my friend was sleeping on the couch, it was a studio apartment, I’m not really sure what you want from me, and it was New York (!) and I was young and blonde, I mean, that’s just going to happen. He wanted me, I wanted him, and then, the way things happen in New York City when you’re on your own for the first time, he became a bisexual drug addict and left school.

AND, BECAUSE HE DELETED HIS FACEBOOK ACCOUNT, I NEVER HEARD OF HIM AGAIN. Until now. Until this sad moment, when I stuffed my face with meat and cheese and chocolate and then almost did Wii fit but stopped to look up this ASSHAT on Google and now I’m sitting here in a push-up bra and sweatpants BECAUSE THAT’S HOW I WORK OUT, FUCK YOU, and I discover that he still exists, has a girlfriend, and lives in Korea. This is the same boy who once adored me. The same boy who once came into class, excited, and said, “Last night was crazy. I slept in an arm chair man,” the same boy who couldn’t afford to buy a GAP shirt so instead he went the a thrift store across the street and bought a GAP shirt from there.

FUCK YOU, DUDE. FUCK YOU FOR MOVING ON WITH YOUR LIFE AND BEING HAPPY AND MOVING TO KOREA. Even though I only remembered your existence about 20 minutes ago. How could you do this to me? How could I let you do this to me? What is this? Why am I so sad and lonely and pathetic and undesirable to those I desire? DAMN IT. WHY DO YOU LIVE IN KOREA???

HERE’S A PICTURE OF MAYOR STUBBS, FUCK YOU.

cat mayor

AND FUCK THIS, I’M GOING TO A PARTY.

Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

You’re in a new town.

empire state building nyc

Photo by me.

I am now certain that I miss New York city, though it’s sweaty as monkeys in a suitcase out here. Before I can even make it outside I’m all balmy and my hair is limp. I love this city, but jeez New York, calm your tits.

Here’s where my inner Patrick Bateman comes out: you’ll know I’ve given up on life if I move to Brooklyn. I do not adore Brooklyn. It’s far and empty and spooky at night and nothing is open and there’s no cabs. And hark, nature’s cruel joke — all of my friends, save one (love you Kelly) have moved to Brooklyn since I was last here. Which was only a year ago. All of them. Just the whole lot, off to Brooklyn. My dad lives in Manhattan. Do you not understand my unyielding pain here? I’m faced with a long subway ride or a $20 cab fare. This is debilitating and even thinking about it makes me want to place one of my childlike chubby fingers to my temple and let a single tear fall from my sweaty cheek.

I get it — Brooklyn is cheaper than Manhattan. At least that’s what you’re all telling me. Though I’m not convinced. But some of you insist that you live in Brooklyn because Brooklyn is better, which is hilarious. That’s like insisting that “Home Alone 3” is the best of all of the “Home Alone” films. Don’t insult me, comrade.

Yes, I am an asshole. I totally get that. But Oh My Kanye I hate having to haul ass to Brooklyn. You’re all worth it, I’m not saying that. But there’s nothing nearly as awesome where you live that we couldn’t do here in Real New York. Trust me, we can find your beloved independent vegan coffee guitar store here in the city. Your homemade soda shop/tattoo parlor. Your 80’s themed organic whiskey bar. We have those here too. I swear. And we have more. And we have transportation that will take you there.

Again, I’m an asshole.

And I live in Silver Lake/Los Feliz so I get it. I get wanting to live in a cool area where you can walk everywhere, where all your friends live, and where rent is cheaper than somewhere else more glamorous. I’m being a dick and a half, because where I live I can rent a one bedroom for half of what you rent in NYC for a studio. New York rent is crazy. So we all do what we can, and we’re all lucky to live in any of these places.

It’s really hot here.

I’m all not all cynical snobbery though. I’ve had some very lovely evenings in Brooklyn since I’ve been here. Very wonderful. Magical, even. Like Truman Capote shit. I love all of you BK friends. I just wished you lived closer. So, literally and figuratively, come at me.

 

 This post is brought to you by UMoveFree. See UMoveFree reviews for testimonials.

Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Living alone in LA.

Decorated by David Lynch.

 

I moved into my new apartment and started being a badass adult. Or maybe I’m just a bad ass. I am trying to figure this all out. There are still boxes everywhere and certain things remained unpacked and some walls are bare and it makes me anxious. And there are cords and wires everywhere from connecting various electronic necessities like Internet and television. I know, the horror. The struggle. The sleepless nights.

I don’t have a dining room table. I am okay with this. Do you have a dining room table? I don’t really dine. I eat. I haven’t started cooking yet. I keep threatening to do it, but I don’t. Do you cook? Does anyone out there lead a responsible life and can you tell me how I can do that too?

For now I am living alone and it’s good and it’s bad. I lived alone in college in NYC in a lovely little studio. I loved it, mostly. The great thing about New York is that you walk out of your building and there’s people and there’s people you know and you’re okay, everything is fine. Unless you hate people. Then you’re fucked, little sir. This is what I like about my new neighborhood. On Saturday I ran into the same guy twice. Once in the afternoon and once at night. At night it was in a restaurant (after my performance with Hello Giggles at UCB which I don’t really want to talk about because I am a perfectionist and wished I had done better. But that’s not important right now.) He was on a date and his mom was there. I think maybe it was not the best time to say hi. But I did. I am fearless. His mom and girlfriend are very nice. It’s nice when people are nice. It’s unpleasant when people are fake nice. But sometimes fake nice is better than being outright hostile.

My friend and new manager (yay!) says that my apartment is haunted. That would explain why the rent is good and why my landlord is so nice to me. I haven’t experienced any hauntings aside from when the record player started making noises like an alien spaceship in 1950s movies. I knew there was a logical explanation but I turned it off anyway.

Do you live alone and do you like it? And what does your apartment look like? Be honest with me. If it’s a mess I want to hear about every last beer can and pizza box.

 

This post was sponsored by U Move Free. Moving soon? UMoveFree complaints are few and far between. So, challenge accepted. Kidding.

Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Please Dress Me.

almie rose bonnie and clydeThis right here is my uniform. Red lipstick, lots of black, and this Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin tee when I’m not wearing a black dress.

Today I start a new job in fashion Exciting! I have no idea how I stumbled into the world of fashion (I also write for Genlux Magazine), it just kind of happened, and I love it. But I have a confession. Lately, I’ve sort of given up on my style. “I don’t know how to dress anymore,” I told my mom. Expecting her to say, “Oh of course you do,” she instead said, “Yeah you’re not really trying anymore.” Yikes. Let’s take a magical tour through my fashion history, shall we? (This post contains lots of photos so if your computer is slow, lollolol). Oh and

What is your daily uniform? What’s your favorite style, your favorite looks, your favorite fashion inspiration? And do you have any suggestions for me?

Continue reading

Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

The Village & SoHo Mix.

I admit it: I’m in a New York state of mind. (Thank you, poet laureate Billy Joel.)  Please enjoy this mix. It’s titled The Village & SoHo and it’s songs that remind me of the time I spent there. Some of them may not make any sense to you, but they make sense to me. I do hope you enjoy.

Art by the incredible Emily of Phraseless. Follow her on twitter for tweets like, “Just in case you forgot, #timcurry is a god.”

Download The Village & SoHo

What songs remind you of a certain place?

Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook

Thoughts from New York.

GUYS: If a girl thinks you’re gay, it means she thinks, “That man dresses well, has exceptional taste and style, looks like he showers, and is actually trying to talk to me instead of grabbing at my boobs.” It’s a compliment.

GIRLS: If you’re with a guy (or girl or anyone), stop getting insecure about their ex-girlfriends. They’re with you know. Sure, there’s curiosity and then there’s angst. I NEED TO GET BETTER AT THIS ONE.

EVERYONE: Can we just be kinder to each other? Being cynical is tired. Try something else.

BEN STILLER: I saw you on Broadway in “House of Blue Leaves” and you are an astonishingly good actor. Can you please cut it the fuck out with this Meet The Parent shit? Do you not have enough money at this point? Do you really need more cars? Boats? Cashmere underwear? I don’t know. Just stop it. This is why no one likes you. Stop it. Be good. Let yourself be good. I believe in you, Ben Stiller. I believe in you.

CAB DRIVER WHO DROVE LIKE THE COPS WERE CHASING US: I undertipped you on PURPOSE. THAT WAS THE SCARIEST RIDE OF MY LIFE. AND WHEN I SAID I’LL GET OUT HERE, YOU KEPT DRIVING. BETWEEN THAT AND YOUR MR. TOAD’S WILD RIDE DRIVING ABILITIES, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. WE ALMOST HIT 3 DIFFERENT CARS. THIS WAS NOT AN AVERAGE CAB RIDE, WHERE ONE HITS ALMOST 2 CARS. 3 IS 1 TOO MANY. 3 IS INSANE.

Bonus: Can we not wear backpacks and capris to the theater?

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Share

Follow me on Twitter | Facebook