Category Archives: no i’m not drunk

We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes.

Remember that last post where I waxed poetically of the rain and the warm feelings it gave me? Yeah, I’m over it. I’m starting to go a little crazy. I only had work one day this week and one casting workshop and other than those activities I’ve been stuck inside this house. Cabin Fever is hitting hard and there’s no Rider Strong to keep me company, which sucks. However, there’s no flesh eating virus so I guess that’s a plus.

Are you in a similar situation? Are you getting stir crazy? You are not alone. Follow my lead and together we will cross the desert of ennui in an SUV with seat warmers.

Kanye.

Need I say more? Wait, yeah I probably should. Kanye West will always keep me amused. I love listening to his music but even more I love watching the wacky stuff he’s done and thanks to Youtube this is possible. I wish Don Knotts was alive so that he could be on hand to say, “Kaaaaaaaan-yeeee!” every time Kanye screws up. Who could forget this classic moment?:

What people forget is even before the glorious “George Bush does not care about black people” statement and Mike Meyers perfectly timed “The Office”-like reaction of shock is the moment before when Kanye first goes off script and Meyers is determined to stay on it. Thank you, Kanye, for telling the truth whether it’s about politics or Beyonce. To quote you from a few years ago: “If I don’t win, this award show loses.” Yes, yes how true, you delightful man.

Risky Ebay Bidding.
I have a list of favorite ebay sellers/stores (it’s all vintage clothing) and what I like to do is go through it, find pieces I really like, and put down my highest bid in hopes that someone outbids me. I don’t actually want to spend money but I do like picturing myself in the clothes. This is like gambling for me. Will I win and have to pay for it? Is there a bullet in the chamber?

Reading the message boards at imdb.
Some of the funniest greatest quotations I have ever found have been gleaned from the wastelands of user opinions on the IMDB message boards. Some examples:

(From the Mad Men boards):
“Pete’s far too self-involved to kill himself. He loves himself. That’s the last thing he’d do.”
“Suicide usually is the last thing someone does.”

Zing!

(From The Jurassic Park boards):
“And the mother of all gaffes–the T. Rex INSIDE the visitor center! What did it do, crouch down and crawl through the front door? It’s 30 feet tall for God’s sake! I guess it’s one of those magic, teleporting T. Rexes.”

AAGH THE INDIGNATION!

(From The “Blow-Up” boards):
“The fact that nothing gets resolved is my favorite element of this movie. Every time Hemmings discovers something he gets off track. Instead of pushing the story forward he has an orgy, instead of tracking down Vannessa Redgrave [he] goes to a concert, instead of taking photos of the dead body he goes to a pot party. Finally, when the body is removed, he forgets everything and watches college students play a fake game of tennis.”

Whoops, spoilers. Well, not really.

(From The Great Gatsby boards):

“F. Scott Fitzgerald was a big fan of Star Wars and was known to dress up as a Storm Trooper for Star Wars conventions.”

As I remember, someone asked why the Star Wars Cantina theme was played in the Great Gatsby film and thus this burn was delivered in response.

“Why is Gatsby great? [Because] in my opinion, Gatsby is an idiot, but apparently he’s supposed to be great, so can anyone help me out? What makes this guy great?”

I think it’s important to ask the tough questions.

(From The Kate Hudson message boards):
“I heard she broke up the Black Crowes when they met, a la Yoko breaking up the Beatles. But they’re back together now I think, the Crows not the Beatles, so I guess it didnt matter.”

I don’t know why I was on the Kate Hudson message boards either. And now, for my personal favorite:

(From The Man On The Moon boards):

“Andy Kaufman has made no public appearances since he died.”

Looks like somebody has a future as a publicist!

Contemplate Cleaning My Closet, Taking Out A Few Pieces, Staring At Them, Then Putting Them Back.
Yeah.

Looking At Old Photos Of Myself And Remembering The Good Times.
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I remember you. You used to be so full of optimism. Or you used to be so full of pessimism but was very good at masking it with fake optimism. You used to take pictures of everything you did everywhere you went. Then that got trendy so you stopped. You used to cover your walls with photos of Marilyn Monroe and would read every book on her you could find. You used to write plays. Or start writing them, get bored and/or frustrated, stop, and write a new one. I remember you.

How Dark Is Your Dark Side — His Name Is Alive

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Things You Need To Stop Doing Right Now.

YOU NEED TO STOP…

— Using the phrase “Alma mater.” Who the fuck are you trying to fool? Latin’s a dead language, buddy. Just say, “My former/old school.” That sounds real. When you say “Alma Mater” you sound like Ron Burgundy.

— Saying that you’ll follow someone on twitter and then not.

— Using sarcasm in text messaging because it’s really hard to tell when/if you’re being sarcastic through a text message. Beware the exclamation point. They’re the fine line between enthusiasm and sarcasm. “Sorry!” vs “Sorry.” Of course it’s all about context but if you don’t know the person very well then the one with the exclamation point can look very sarcastic.

— Praising Michael Cera for acting. You could swap the guy with a house cat in any of his films and I guarantee you will get the same performance but with less fake, “Oh, I-I guess this thought is, ah, j-just coming to me” stuttering.

— Selecting “reply” on a facebook message if you’re not the only person it was sent to because then we all get your stupid response of, “Thanks for the photos, Nikki, the kids look too cute!!” or whatever. Just reply to the person who sent it to you. My God old people ruin everything.

— Wearing boyfriend jeans. I don’t know what asshole came up with this, but it’s not flattering on anyone. Anyone! Anyone. Katie Holmes, you look like you are on your way to paint a goddamn house. It’s just sloppy looking and stupid. (If this were a text message I could say, “Wow I am really awed by boyfriend jeans! They’re so great!!”).

— Making the same mistakes. “Always crashing in the same car” (Bowie). Learn from your mistakes, don’t repeat them. It’s like George W. Bush said: “Fool me once…shame on you. Fool me twice (long pause) you–you can’t get fooled again.” It’s exactly like that. That is a perfect mistake about making mistakes.

I think I’m falling asleep here, so I’m going to do to bed. I hate when you can’t tell if you’re sleepy or just over it.

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Interesting Ways To Kill Myself.

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INTERESTING WAYS TO KILL MYSELF:

1.) Go to Universal Studios, get on the tram ride; once on ride wait until the tram comes to the part of the tour with the “broken bridge”; as tram crosses “breaking” bridge, wait for tour guide to give the spiel about how the bridge is out; scream, “THE BRIDGE IS OUT?? WE’LL ALL BE KILLED!” and dive out of tram into the shallow lake below.
2.) Train for my big wrestling comeback; when doctor tells me that if I wrestle my heart could go out, do it anyway, in a blaze of glory to “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”
3.) Drive a convertible off of Mulholland Drive, Thelma and Louise style; hope for freeze-frame before plummeting to death.
4.) Get trampled in a flashmob gone horribly wrong.
5.) Swallow one of every kind of pill in the house, along with assorted change found in the bottom of my purse.
6.) Eat brie until I explode.
7.) Die of second-hand embarrassment while watching January Jones host Saturday Night Live.
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Things That I Am Sick Of Doing.

THINGS THAT I AM SICK OF DOING:

1. Everything.
2. Shaving my arms. Why do I do this? I don’t know, Jerry. I shaved them one day because I realized that I was a girl and that most girls did not have arms as hairy as mine. I’m Italian, these things happen, how was I to know? (Similarly, guys, don’t ask girls if they shave their arms. Yes, someone actually asked me this last night.)
3. Scanning the room for the hottest guy there.
4. Talking him up, bitch should be talking to me, I’m fabulous.
5. Trying to convince myself how awesome I am.
6. Washing my hair.
7. Dealing with assholes on a regular basis.
8. Apologizing.
9. Staring at my suitcase that has not been unpacked since I got back from New York on Tuesday.
10. Trying to make things happen.
11. Being normal.
12. Dealing with peoples’ needs.
13. Going to nightclubs and not being famous while there.
14. Dealing with my own needs.
15. Texting.
16. Resisting the urge to just fucking punch everyone.
17. Telling people what I do for a living, because it’s more like telling them what I don’t do. Really, we’ve been on this earth so long, and we still haven’t found something to replace “So what do you do?” as small talk? Someone get on this, we sent someone to the moon, goddamn.
18. Convincing myself that wine is a fruit.
19. Networking.
20. Telling TiVo to stop recording every goddamn episode of “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia” that airs, ever. I only want the new ones. What don’t you fucking understand?

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The Great Paradox.

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This beautiful card was sent to me by one of my beautiful internet friends. Thank you BB.

Now let’s get to the part of the post where I complain about men, totally ignoring the beautiful sentiment of the beautiful card.

Here is something that I don’t understand. You 20-something men don’t want to be in relationships.

SO WHY IS IT THAT EVERY 20-SOMETHING MAN I MEET IS ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP??

Case in point: I just got back from a certain singer’s party, in which Lance Bass was a guest. Oh yeah, I can name drop some serious shit. Anyway. “What does it feel like to be one of the most attractive guys here?” I asked one of the most attractive guys there. Apparently, it felt good. And drunk. “I have a girlfriend,” he finally admitted. “She’s in Mississippi.”

What? WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS? Why is your girlfriend in Mississippi? What the hell kind of good is that going to do anybody? He then informed me that he is flying her out. GREAT. I HOPE THE TWO OF YOU GET MARRIED ON A GODDAMN STEAMBOAT.

And when the hell did every 20-something guy stop falling in love with me? Guys used to fall in love with me all of the time. I used to be the greatest. I won’t sugarcoat it. But now they instead look right over my head. I know I’m short, but I’m still pretty. What happened? Maybe it’s because my personality kind of sucks. I mean honestly I am a huge egomaniac. And I’m kind of an asshole. But hot guys pull this shit off all the time! Why can’t I?

Excuse me, my decaf green tea is ready.

Anyway back to what I was saying: If no 20-something guy wants to be in a relationship then why is every 20-something guy I know in a relationship?

What fresh hell is this?

OK, now that that is out of my system, I will drink my tea and get back to being like Audrey Hepburn. Maybe men aren’t flocking to me anymore because they sense that talking to me is like playing Russian Roulette. (Let’s me honest, that’s one of those similes that sounds really good but on a second read it doesn’t quite make sense. I tried.) I should really though focus on more important things anyway: my career.

…Ugh.

The Greatest — Cat Power

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McLame

A while back I did this impression of Meredith Grey from “Grey’s Anatomy” to amuse my friends. I feel like we’ve all grown closer, readers, so I’m now sharing it with you.

Before you watch this video you need to know that I do not usually look this ugly. No, seriously. I really don’t.

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If I Had the Chance

Hey you. Thanks for meeting me here. Have a seat. No, not that seat. Don’t sit there. I swear to God if you sit there I will stab you in the throat. Oh, that seat? Yeah, that’s fine, you can sit there. I was kidding anyway.

I was thrilled to get your invitation. I can only assume that you’re bringing me here to tell me that those photos of you with that girl on facebook mean nothing. Yeah, I saw the ones of you in that canal in Venice. I guess it was very romantic but I’ve been in those canals and they smell like a house full of dumptrucks. Ok, fine, they don’t. I was just saying that because I felt like hurting you. Oh, that didn’t hurt you? Well yeah, I guess it wouldn’t. It’s not like you invented those canals. That was DaVinci. What? You’re pretty sure it’s not? Huh, that’s funny, which one of us went to college? Me.

I’m sorry. That was really, really mean.

Anyway you look well. I mean look at you, you’re fucking beautiful. You know it, I know it, that goddamn chair knows it. Look, I have no problem with the chair. It was a joke. This is great wine.

I just wanted to say that if you had a girlfriend you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have been hurt. It’s only now, after all this time of feeling like I’m in a cave with a single lit match, that I’m hurt. Oh, what I meant about the cave thing was that you left me in the dark. Yeah, that’s all I meant. No, I wasn’t implying that the match was burning my fingers. That’s dumb. That doesn’t make any sense. You’re an idiot.

I’m sorry, that was mean.

I’m just getting sick of this. All of this, stuff that you can’t even be held accountable for. I’m just getting sick of never being the girlfriend. I am always the girl on the way to the girlfriend. I’m Goodluck Chuck.

I am never the girl in photos.

What do I mean by that? Well, after a guy disappears from my life, lo and behold I see him on facebook with a new girl. They may not have even declared their relationship but it’s obvious. I always wonder, why isn’t that girl me? And usually I’m much more photogenic than these girls. I’m sorry if that shocks or upsets you but it’s true. But no guy ever wants to take photos of me and put them on facebook. No guy wants to have a photo tagged of us, of his arm slung around me, smiling at me with pure adoration. They save that for the girl after me. I am the girl the guy doesn’t show off.

This is what I mean when I say, I am never the girl in photos.

It’s OK, I’m fine now, I have Sven. Oh? Sven is my boyfriend. He looks like the guy in a 1960s ad for cigarettes. Sometimes. Other days he looks like a British guitar player. Sven isn’t exactly what you would call…real. Yeah, he’s my imaginary boyfriend. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Stop giving me a weird pity look. It’s fine. Really! Look, pretend I didn’t say anything. I was kidding. I was 80% kidding. Don’t worry about the 20%.

Never worry about the 20%.

Half of me wants to throw this drink in your face and the other half wants to kiss you. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? This is good wine, I don’t know if I should waste it on your face. Your beautiful, beautiful face.

I tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna buck up. I’m going to stop looking at your facebook photos. I’m going to have to leave my iphone at home. I’m going to be the strong person that is hidden somewhere inside me, like a grape in a goat. Shh, I’m not done. I’m going to admit that I am the cliche who doesn’t feel validated unless it’s from a guy. But I’m going to be fine. I’m going to make videos and put them on this blog (really, I will). I’m going to keep writing. I’m going to get cast as a co-star in something.

I will realize that you are not everything I think you are.

And I’ll even pick up the check for this.

I’m just going to go to the bathroom first. I am definitely not going to slip out the back. Really. I’m not going to leave my credit card here at the table though because I…need it…in the bathroom. Yeah. I’m just going to be right back. I’m not not leaving forever.

Sike.

She’s Not Me — Madonna
Hello Stranger — Barbara Lewis
How To Quit — Sam Phillips
I’m Not Down — The Clash
Bloody Motherfuckin Asshole — Martha Wainwright
Ring Of Fire — Amanda Jo Williams
Brown Eyes — Lady GaGa
If You Close The Door — The Velvet Underground

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