Which Side of Rock Bottom Are You On?

I’m obsessed with that Hailee Steinfeld song, Rock Bottom. In fact, I’m going to listen to it on loop until I finish this post. So I will probably hate it by the time I’m done if things go according to inevitability. I’m gonna try to help you decide whether or not YOU are on the right side of Rock Bottom.

If you’re anything like me, you’re constantly skimming along the gravel of Rock Bottom, barely avoiding a complete crash. It’s like that episode of Spongebob where they accidentally take the bus down the steep hill and are trapped with creepy-ass bottom dwellers who spit between every word they say. That’s where I live. I’m that one fish with the cool lamp on its head. Alright kids… Time to find out where you stand.

 

1.) Have you ever overdrafted using your debit card on drunk pizza? 

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. Your priorities are in order, you know the importance of nourishing the drunk soul. You might have to pay a fee at some point, but if you call your bank and explain the situation they will likely be understanding. Because what were you gonna do? Not get drunk pizza?

 

2.) Have you ever thrown up into your mesh baseball hat, forgotten about it, woken up, and found it cleaned in your dish rack? 

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. That’s disgusting.

 

3.) Do you ever go to the bathroom at work and pretend to take a massive shit just to swipe on Tinder and Bumble so that your coworkers don’t see you and judge you? 

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. You gotta do what you gotta do, not like you’re doing work anyway. The longer you can sit in there without people wondering if you’re okay the RIGHTER side of rock bottom you’re on.

 

4.) Have you spilled a whiskey ginger on your cold leftover fries (during a date) and still decided to keep them and eat them, despite them tasting like absolute shit, because you don’t want to waste them?

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. That’s disgusting. Throw that shit out, they’re gonna be soggy as FUCK.

 

5.) Have you accidentally eaten weed candy, gotten higher than you ever thought possible, and not told anyone because you were afraid you were going to die? 

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. That’s hilarious and totally something that everyone can relate to. You are probably a stronger/better person for having gone through that experience.

 

6.) Do you keep a spare set of clothing in your car because you never know where you’ll be spending the night since you don’t have a home? 

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. Get a home. No one wants you living on their couch. They say they don’t mind, but they do. They want you out of their apartment. They’d rather throw you out on the streets, they just don’t want that negative karma in their life.

 

7.) Have you ever licked peanut butter off your iPhone screen? 

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. No one should ever waste peanut butter.

 

8.) Have you ever told a potential employer, in a job interview, that you would kill yourself to work for them? 

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. There’s a reason you never got that job. They probably reported you to a hospital clinic as soon as the interview was over and said “This fucker needs HELP.”

 

9.) Have you ever eaten your lunch at 11:00 am because you need the happiness that food brings you, ASAP?

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. Food fixes everything. You might need a second lunch. But that’s okay, you deserve it.

 

10.) Do you regularly share YouTube videos and memes on Facebook? 

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. And there might be no saving you. You’re stuck there. You actually might have already been living there. Maybe you can translate their language for the rest of us.

 

11.) Do you consider yourself a member of the “Bey Hive?” 

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. It’s cool if you’re a fan of Beyonce, a lot of people are. But why do you need to be a self proclaimed member of the Bey Hive? Which is essentially, from my understanding, a bunch of teenagers on Instagram who threaten murder on anyone who speaks negatively of Queen Bey… Also please stop calling her Queen Bey.

 

12.) Have you ever burst out sobbing in the middle of the H&M Coachella section over something that happened weeks prior?

IF YES: You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. If there is any good place to cry, it’s the Coachella section at H&M. If for no other reason than the fact that a Coachella section exists in a prominent clothing establishment.

 

13.) Have you ever drunkenly gotten an enormous order of McDonalds, including but not limited to, McMuffins, McGriddles, McNuggets, Snack Wraps, and two large orders of fries for you and your friends, only to go home and eat most of it before they can have any?

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. You should also go to a cardiologist and check to see if there are chicken remnants lodged in your arteries. Also maybe go see a priest and ask for forgiveness and confess to your sins. What you did was unforgivable on so many levels.

 

14.) Have you ever told three people you could hang out with them on the same night, then at the last minute have to cancel with two of them because you spent all day debating who you wanted to hang out with the most?

IF YES: You’re on the wrong side of Rock Bottom. You’re a dick.

 

15.) Have you recently started following a “Falling in Love” playlist on Spotify to listen to in the car, even though that’s the furthest thing from what is currently happening in your life? 

IF YES:  You’re on the right side of Rock Bottom. You’re Katrina Nicholson.

 

This list contains only SOME of the qualifications for visiting Rock Bottom. It is not all inclusive. Some of them happened to me. Some of them happened to people I know. Some of them apply to people I’ve interacted with. Some of them apply to people I hate. Rest assured, if you can relate to anything on this list, you’ve visited Rock Bottom. The challenge is not to EXIT Rock Bottom as fast as possible, it’s to be on the RIGHT side of Rock Bottom.

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What NOT To Do When You’re Trying to Get Laid.

We’re parting from my standard rant format, this post is a list. A list of things that men have done either to me, or my friends. A list of things I would think are common sense in the dating game, but apparently, nope… Enjoy basking in the incompetence of the modern single twenty-something man.

Here is what NOT to do if you want a girl to get schwifty with you:

 

  1. Bring her home with you, play Tic Tac Toe with her and force her to watch music videos with you for two hours.
  2. Ask her what she wants to eat- then deliberately don’t order it.
  3. Tell her sternly, on the first date, that if she ever disrespects you, you’d punch her in the face.
  4. Ask her if she still wants to go for a hike with you when she just (lied and) told you she needs to leave to be with her friend who is having a mental breakdown.
  5. Reveal your weird Nightmare Before Christmas paraphernalia during what is clearly a one night stand.
  6. Tell her that she reminds you of Amy Schumer’s character from Trainwreck
  7. Repeatedly send her “?” when she doesn’t respond to you telling her that you’d like to see her posing naked around your home.
  8. Stare intently during awkward silences during dinner, scowl when she tries to diffuse the situation.
  9. Talk about your flourishing acting career.
  10. Talk about yourself as a serious actor at all.
  11. Eat Chef Boyardee raw, straight from the can, without using a spoon or utensils of any sort, while she watches in horror.
  12. Start talking to her about your girlfriend at 2:00 am when you’ve already wasted her time and ruined all of her other prospects.
  13. Tell her that you’ll “give her her cardio” when she says she needs to go to the gym.
  14. Leave her to pass out on the couch with your sexually aggressive dog while you smoke a bowl in your room by yourself.
  15. Complain that she has the “wrong contact solution” and then scream like a little bitch because your eyes burn.
  16. Ditch her to go to a strip club.
  17. Tell her that her hair looks like “the hair that comes out of a horse’s butt”
  18. Tell her that she “sounds like she has a lisp” on the phone.
  19. Buy her a drink, get your card rejected, then force her to pay for both of your drinks.
  20. Roll a joint in her car, smoke it, and then drop the remainder of it on the floor. Make no effort to find it.
  21. Ask her if you can try on her thong.
  22. Lean in for a kiss after you just hit a cat with your car…
  23. Create a playlist with all of her favorite bands (which you found on her Facebook) and play it for her on the second date.
  24.  Make it abundantly clear that you haven’t showered in four days. Even though she didn’t ask, or suspect it.
  25. Eat firey buffalo wings, forget to wash your hands, then get intimate…
  26. Bring her home, ask her if she wants a drink. When she says yes, open your refrigerator to reveal a lone head of broccoli and nothing else.
  27. Talk to her about how you’re going to hang out- then instead of actually hanging out with her, be inexplicably mean to her every time she attempts to communicate with you.
  28. Bring her and her friend home with you and your friend. Let them lay on your bed, offer them a box of graham crackers, then stare at them. When they ask why you’re staring, tell them you “just like watching them interact.”
  29. Tell her your favorite animal is a squirrel.
  30. When a girl on Bumble asks you why you moved to Los Angeles, let her know that you moved here for your girlfriend.
  31. Bring her to a Dave Matthews Band concert.

You think I’m kidding, because I like to kid. But these are all real stories. This should serve as a cautionary tale for those of you out there in the dating world. You truly never know when you’ll encounter a man who loves squirrels… but it does happen. They exist. There is a man out there who really LOVES squirrels. Just be very aware that when you agree to meet up with an almost stranger, you’re playing a game of Wheel of Fortune that has a VERY high probability of Pat Sajak going rogue, drenching you in gasoline, and lighting you on fire.

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I Almost Exploded//Got Burnt Alive

In honor of Fearless Friday, I am gonna go ahead and nominate myself. Because the world is out to get me and it’s Friday the 13th.

I don’t know how to put this lightly, but my car caught fire yesterday. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, I almost died. The mechanic who saw the burnt up fuse box inside the hood of my car told me I was “lucky to be alive.”

What can I say? One moment you’re sitting at a shitty valley Car Wash during your lunch break innocently texting your best friend about her farts and the next second you’re walking out of the office to move your street parked car. You see it from afar, realize the headlights are on for no reason and you are 100% fucked. You then maybe turn your car keys to try to start the car and it makes the desperate clicking sounds of a tired battery. At this point, you’re sweating because you wore inappropriate clothes for the Southern California climate… You realize you are a sheltered white girl from the Midwest. You realize you know nothing about car maintenance. You don’t even know how to spell maintenance without using spell check.

Luckily, I looked like a damsel in distress. Even though I was wearing an oversized men’s thermal shirt and Chuck Taylors. A vaguely attractive man in his mid-thirties pulls over in his massive white pick-up truck to help me jump my piece of shit car. He just so happens to be a professional electrician. This sounds like the start to a bad porno. Sorry to disappoint, he was a little too short and it didn’t go in that direction.

He put the jumper cables on my car, sparks flew up… He said my car smelled like shit. Good thing I can’t smell!?!?!?! He told me the battery isn’t the problem. In his professional electrician opinion, I was fucked.

Triple A showed up this morning at my place of work. (I have one of those now, I have a job.) This time they think THEY can jump start it. He opens the hood of the car.

“Wow, this smells like shit!”

Thanks bro. He asks me to have a sniff.

“I can’t smell. Uh, I… I don’t have one-” I offer

“Nah don’t worry it’s nothing crazy just stick your face down in there.”

“Sir, I was born without a sense of smell.” I reiterate

He laughs his ass off.

He fucks around with various car parts that I don’t recognize, eventually frees open what I now know as the “FUSE BOX.” It’s where all the electrical shit in your car goes down. When he opens it up, we quickly discover that part of it was burnt to a crisp. Literally fried the fuck up.

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(IMAGE OF THE INFAMOUS FUSE BOX)

“This shit caught fire!” He essentially says “You’re lucky the whole car didn’t explode.”

Am I lucky sir? Am I lucky that the entire car didn’t explode? Because part of me thinks the car should have exploded and left me with third degree burns… I’d be an unrecognizable husk of a person and I’d finally have to discover my “inner beauty” and stop living off the benefits of being a young attractive white woman. Maybe, sir, the car exploding would have been the best thing to ever happen to me.

So we’ve established that I’m lucky to be alive, my car is fucked, and neither Mediocre Looking Electrician Bystander nor Triple A Man can do a thing to help me. Time to get the Tow Truck Man.

Tow Truck Man has to disassemble my gear shifting mechanisms so that he can put the car into neutral to get it onto the tow truck and to the shop. Tow Truck Man caught me taking a picture of him for Snapchat and definitely thinks I’m into him. I must reek of pheromones.

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So I left my car in the care of a complete stranger who vowed to take it to the auto repair shop. I called the auto shop to see if they got my car, because I can’t go there because I am a WORKING CLASS CITIZEN. The men at the shop laughed their asses off and told me they’d need to do at least “15o dollars worth of labor to figure out what the fuck is wrong with it” and that they’ll have to “tear shit apart.”

I’ll tell you what, I just got settled into my new apartment on Wednesday. I never even SAW my apartment yesterday because I am trapped in the San Fernando Valley of Death and Despair. My cat thinks I’ve abandoned him. I have bruises all over my body from moving furniture (and various other extracurricular activities.) I look like a giant parasitic worm attached itself to my anus and is sucking out every cell of my shit covered soul, little by little, growing stronger with each bit of me it consumes. It continues to use that fecal power to destroy my life. IN ADDITION to eating my soul via my butt.

I’m just kidding. But I think it’s pretty hilarious that my car caught fire and I didn’t die. Big shout out to David Valbuena for rescuing me from the valley today. Still no word on my car repairs. But the good news is that my dad did some research and found out that there were some factory recalls because the Buick LaCrosse caught fire and killed people a few times. Might have been a good thing to know. I’ve been driving around a fucking ticking time bomb for the last 3 years. Glad that the lord himself and satan almighty chose Friday the 13th of 2016 to attempt murder. There is a GOOD CHANCE my car is UNSALVAGEABLE. Which is super convenient considering I spent a good chunk of change that I don’t have repairing it last month.

In summary, who wants to help me buy a new car? I’ll let you pet my poopy death worm.

 

 

Anne Hathaway in Les Mis

This isn’t a movie review. I just really want to talk specifically about the scene in Les Mis where Anne Hathaway is dying of scurvy and slowly spiraling into the colonial version of rock bottom. It isn’t the cute type of rock bottom either… It’s like… HOLY shit you are not clean. You are literally filthy and you have really fallen far from the specimen of fertility you once were. imgres.jpg

For those of you who haven’t watched this movie, Anne Hathaway is beautiful at the beginning. She works in some clothing factory run by Hugh Jackman. All the other ladies hate her because she’s hot af and they’re homely af. She’s also just really good at her job, which in typical woman fashion, makes everyone jealous. God ladies, why can’t we be more industrial?

So the bitches of the clothing factory conspire against her to get her fired. It isn’t very difficult. They sing the entire time they do it. That’s the weirdest thing to me about musicals, they sing jaunty tunes as they do horrible things. Like in Rent they’re just singing about how they’re all dying of AIDS? I can’t handle that.

So anyway, Anne Hathaway gets fired from her job at the clothing factory. She’s thrown out onto the streets. Sucks. Worst part? She’s a single mother and her crazy sister and her husband are taking care of the child. She has to send them money or the child dies. Seriously, these people are so nutso that they would just let the child starve and wither away into a dried up raisin.

So Anne Hathaway wanders into what I will call the Dirty District. You know, that street that mom says not to go down because drug deals are happening and people are getting shot left and right? This dirty district looks like various shipwrecks. Dirty ladies hanging from windows and screaming this “Lovely Ladies” song. Anne Hathaway goes here to make her money, because she’s fucking beautiful. Selling yourself to the night is every beautiful woman’s plan Z. Not speaking from experience.

So this all happens very fast… First Anne Hathaway sells her hair… Her beautiful shiny brown hair. They cut it off with a rusty shiv and then do god knows what with it? Were they making wigs? Why are they paying for hair? Are they going to fashion it into a coat? This is the colonial times, they didn’t pay for extensions and weaves etc. I can’t imagine why they’d pay for her hair. Maybe they just really wanted to see how much she’d be willing to do it for, in a drunk frat party way?

Next up, infinitely more horrifying, she sells her teeth. They just sit her down, Sweeney Todd style, and rip out her teeth with rusty tetanus infected pliers that they probably also used to surgically remove a fat sweaty pirate’s hemorrhoids. Poor Anne, that one definitely hurt a lot.

So she’s crumpled up in the fetal position, wasting away, sending every penny she makes to her child. And then all the other Dirty District ladies are like “Wanna be a prostitute too?” And Anne is like… Fuck it. Yeah. So then some gross Pirate Ship Captain has sex with her and throws a couple quarters at her. JESUS ANNE, CHARGE MORE FOR THAT KIND OF SERVICE!

This is the part where I usually start crying. Anne is crumpled up in this weird coffin looking bed situation. She sings my favorite song of the whole movie, because I’m a dark and brooding bitch.

“I Dreamed A Dream” Is a nice tune about how men break our hearts time and time again, leaving us on death row with an incurable disease and nothing to our names. It leaves me wondering what happened to the man who impregnated her? Where the fuck did he go? She’s singing about how she loved him and they had a great time together and then he ran the fuck away from her. Dude… Don’t ghost in the colonial days… She has literally no way of finding you. It’s not cute. You can’t just GHOST someone you have a child with. You truly ruined her life. That’s what this song is about.

Last night as my Dad and I were winding down after the long day of moving. We’re drinking beers, channel surfing, Les Miz was on FXM at the hotel. This scene just started and I go:

“Dad, this is the most depressing scene in the movie!” In an excited tone, for some reason.

So he leaves it on, in its entirety.

Proud to say this is the first time I’ve watched it without crying.

I challenge anyone with a soul to watch this movie by themselves in a dark room, preferably when you’re already feeling sad about something going horribly in your life. Bonus points if you’re a menstruating woman. If you can successfully make it through this scene without crying, I’ll take you to In-N-Out. If you don’t live in California, I’ll mail you In-N-Out.

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She’s still so pretty somehow.

 

 

 

 

 

The Dreams You Die In

I’m not sure if it’s stress related, but I keep having dreams where I die a violent and painful death. I know it might sound like I’m kidding, but it has happened at least 5 times in the last month. And before that, I don’t think it ever happened to this graphic and vivid extent.

If you’re not a fan of dark, morbid and graphic stories… you might want to just stop right here and go back to whatever you’re supposed to be doing right now. Otherwise… I’m about to show my true colors, enjoy.

DREAM ONE: THE BUS ACCIDENT

I was coming back from a field trip with various people from my life. We’re on an enormous school bus. When I say various people from my life, I mean a truly odd assortment. The dude who stood behind me in line at Davy Wayne’s and is now randomly on my soccer team, my mother, nondescript people from BU, Chris Farley… yeah I don’t know.

Everyone is having a good time, some people even suggest a game of bus truth or dare. Nothing sounds more appealing to me than playing truth or dare with my mom. Truly sounds like something we’d both not hate at all. Anyway, we’re driving in Minnesota in the winter.

We get to a certain point in our drive and there is an enormous soccer goal obstructing the entire road. Rather than stopping the bus and seeing if someone can move it, the bus driver decided to go off-roading on the snowy hill next to the road. This happened to be the same snowy hill from my elementary school growing up.

I quickly realized this was a bad idea and tried to vacate the bus. I somehow got outside the bus and was running alongside just as it struggled through the snow and tipped over on its side. Right on top of me. I was hoping for a surge of adrenaline or something where I could lift the bus, but unfortunately this situation played out pretty realistically.

I laid face down in the snow as the bus slowly crushed me to death. I laid helplessly, hearing the screams of the other passengers. The air deflated from my lungs and my entire body caved in, liquids of all sorts oozed from my body. I heard the sound of that. The last thing I remembered before startling awake next to a beautifully sleeping Talya.

Tipped Bus

DREAM TWO: NATURAL DISASTER

I actually fared a lot better in this one than in the bus accident. I became an icon of the apocalypse. Talya, Alyssa and I were recently talking about how we’re all going to die in the massive Los Angeles earthquake as soon as it happens. Good chat, ladies. I dreamed about it.

I don’t even remember how it started. I just remember being in the midst of chaos and wind and objects flying around. For some reason people looked to me for guidance? I don’t know why… I had the whole Mad Max mechanical arm girl vibe though. I tore up my clothes and was ready to fight the undead. I don’t think I looked Charlize Theron sexy though, I looked more like a dirty mechanic girl with the weird mole on her face who you’d have to put a bag over the head of to have intercourse with. You know? Not saying that’s how I look now, but in this dream there was definitely something more rugged and masculine about me. Maybe excess arm hair? Not sure.

Things didn’t stay like the movies though. Pretty soon entire buildings were collapsing. And enormous pieces of debris took people out. Just as I was rallying the troops to push seaward, an enormous piece of debris whacked into me and knocked the wind out of me. My supporters gathered around me like I was some sort of Khalesi and I told them to press onward without me. I knew I wouldn’t make it.

My ribs were crushed and one of them pierced my heart so my heart just slowly leaked all over the rest of my organs until it couldn’t beat anymore. My supporters carried me to a shitty lean-to shelter and stayed with me until the very end. They probably died shortly after I did. Idiots.

Charlize

DREAM THREE: SET AFLAME

I literally burned alive. For whatever reason, someone felt that they needed to pour gasoline over my entire body then light a match and toss it at me. Of course I burst into flames. You know… Just burning alive not really knowing why you’re getting burnt alive? It’s fun. My flesh melted away and I swear I woke up feeling itchy as hell. The craziest thing about fake burning alive is that you’re super aware of it and it goes on for a while. I imagine if you burn alive in real life you go into shock and die pretty fast. But for me, I was like a flaming human being for a good half hour. I picture my flaming self as the red Morphix from Dark Rift 64… (If anyone besides my brothers gets that reference I will marry them. Not kidding, you can send me a message on Facebook or something and we can work out wedding arrangements.)

I think eventually my entire house/apartment set fire and I just laid down and watched all of my possessions burn away. I think the cat managed to escape because, you know, cats are always lookin out for number 1. Guaranteed my asshole cat would run out of the building and alert no one that I was burning alive. He’d just live on the streets without a care in the world. Dickhead would be happier as a street cat.

Satan is coming at me from down below warning me of the undead life ahead of me. I am absolutely going to hell kids. If there was not a sign before, the fact that someone set me ablaze for no reason in my dream. I’ll take that as a hint. Send me help. Send the Herbalife people to save my soul.

Morphix

(Unfortunately this was the only picture of Morphix I could find…)

I don’t know what exactly this all says about the current status of my life. I think my instability is sexy. Not having a home for nearly a month? Adorable. Almost taking a job I found on Craigslist that barely paid minimum wage? Sexy. Telling people that I’m an aspiring writer and comedian while unemployed? Seductive.

Periods of instability show you how strong you can be. I know that’s cheesed as fuck, and I know I admit to my cliches a lot and they’re almost becoming a cliche in themselves. I’m being serious though. The start of 2016 has been pretty hellish, but also pretty wonderful in a lot of ways. I struggled for a while with how to close this post, I don’t want to say too much but I also don’t want to shrug off the fact that my life has been in turmoil.

I’ll leave you with this: I went to the grocery store last night to buy ingredients to make something for dinner. I left with a carton of eggs, a package of bacon and a bottle of Smirnoff.