the boy at ikea!!!

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not only is ikea a lifesaver, it’s a life enhancing people connector/amazing pick up spot! except for all the happy couples looking for furniture to start their new lives together. single people go there too, to look for ideas on how to save space in their one bedrooms! but please, if you can help it: do not date guys who live in anything smaller than a one bedroom. and no roommates either! case closed. whether you know it or not, I’m making your life BETTER!

here’s a totally cute, stylish man/boy i met the other day while returning something i bought for my new apartment! god i love corporate companies, they makes returns so much easier. have you met Luca? xo

boycrazy at ikea! from alexi wasser on Vimeo.


the blind leading the blind part 14:


1.if you are trimming your pubic hair with a scissors and you accidentally cut your labia and it is dangling from a thread……DON’T PANIC! i know it stings and sizzles and you can’t believe you did this to yourself, but you did. now get some neosporin and a band aid and say a prayer. it will probably join back together like they say worms do if you cut them in half. good luck.

2. exercise for the lazy asshole: hula hooping, whatever you’re supposed to do on those rubber balls, jump rope (but make sure your boobs are fully supported).

3. don’t do heroin. DRUGS ARE BADDDDD! THEY ARE A GATEWAY FOR EVIL TO ENTER YOUR BODY! remember what i said about monsters coming into your room if you leave your closet door open? well, it’s the same with drugs, except instead of your’s your soul. and the monster will totally eat it.

4. All the beautiful girls take the stairs. if you’re ever in a situation that presents you with the choice of taking the stairs, elevator, or escalator: ALWAYS take the stairs! at the airport, in the metro/subway stations, wherevs! It’s THE thing to do! It works the legs and the bum! skip a step with each leg, it’ll totally hit the problem areas faster and harder!

5. if you’re a girl and you run into another girl and she tells you how much she loves her new boyfriend, don’t nod your head and smile and tell her “yeah, oh that’s so great. i’m so happy for you!” and then go home and facebook the shit out of that girls new boyfriend and flirt with him or ask him why he’s ignoring your im’s! that is shady, unhealthy behavior. and makes you kind of cunty. yeah, cunty!

6. all we have is our stories.

7. if the choice of places for him to cum are a) in your mouth, b) on your boobs, or  c.) on your stomach – and you’re wearing a new bra, shirt, or jeans or whatever….. the choice is A! but don’t swallow, because it will totally make you fat.

8. first almond milk, then rice milk, then soy milk, THEN non fat real milk. and half and half when you wanna feel like royalty!

9. get over yourself and out of your head. except if you’re overly thinking where he should spoodge.

10. if you’re not watching NYC prep on bravo and hating it, but still watching it…. I’m kind of bummed.


alex olson is coming!

brace yourself for the interview of a lifetime. here’s a taste of the fun times that await: the man, the myth, alex olson!

ALEX OLSON: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

history repeats itself:


I’ve been in a really weird mood these past few days. I’m angry and frustrated most of the time. Why, I don’t know. This morning I woke up in a puddle of my own blood and thought ‘well, at least I’m not pregnant anymore.’ But, as I fully woke up, I realized I was never pregnant. I was just having my period. I was still laying in a puddle of my own blood though. Thank god I learned that hydrogen peroxide trick.

Does the more blood you bleed during your period, mean the crazier you’re gonna act? I hope so, cuz that would explain a lot. And I need an explanation. Because I’m not happy. I’m constantly tired, and for the first time in my life, can’t get the happiness and validation I crave- from a guy. which is making me hate the guy. am i only now noticing something I’ve already gone through, but never put my attention on? this is repeated behavior.

Shopping didn’t make it better, an epic walk didn’t make it better, a boy saying ‘I love u’ didn’t make it better, a trip to the therapist didn’t make it better, (old episodes of the ORIGINAL Beverly hills 90210 KINDA made it better). I need this to be hormones. Please let it be hormones. And if that’s all it is, it’s scary to think how angry, mean and out of control I can be just cuz I’m having my period.

I’ve been really up and down with a guy I’m dating. I want to feel something, so I’m trying to fight with him. But I feel nothing. I’m bored. I have my attention on other things. life and work etc. And I’m confused as to whether I’m bored with him or if the relationship is calm and should be left alone while I tend to the real stuff that’s making me excited/and inspired/and overwhelmed/etc, which-right now- is work. It’s like, I don’t want to admit tha I might not be that into the relationship RIGHT NOW, or that i’m pre-occupied with thoughts and panic and work, so I try to start a fight and pin it on him. that way, there’s a REASON we can’t hang out or be happy together. I am a monster. I make up reasons to fight with the guys I date. I make up fake scenarios in my head that I actually believe. I live in a dream world and blame the guy for stuff – even if he’s done NOTHING wrong. Just out of habit. Just to feel something, anything- to shake myself up. and/or to push him away. (on a side note- this is how i used to break up with dudes, cuz i was too much of a pussy to end it properly and confront the situation.) I don’t know how to stop. Because after I do that, I can’t shake the guilt and the shame I have of my bad behavior. I don’t like how I feel around the guy, even after the drama’s subsided, because I’ll never believe he’s forgiven me.

Unless I wake up and take responsibility for my behavior and stop sleep walking through life and falling into easy habits- I will repeat this over and over again and bring this behavior into the next relationship and the next. But habits are hard to break. I don’t know about you, but I exist in two parts: The logical, rational part and the crazy/baby/infant/trouble making/insecure/monster/mess part. I can even be BOTH at the SAME time during an argument with a boyfriend. Telling him that I’m about to say things I don’t mean, that are fucked up, and that I can’t stop myself.

I do all of this push and pull fighting bullshit so that the guy is forced to prove his love for me on a day to day basis. To reassure me over and over. This is so unfair to him. and eventually, he will run- to protect himself from me. And I don’t blame him. and yet, I still feel angry and unfulfilled- as if it’s all his fault. Maybe I should just stop dating seriously. Or maybe I should grow the fuck up and bite my tongue and force myself to have A LOT of self control. To show some restraint. In my case, a lot of restraint. I really want to be better. I’m going to try. I just don’t know if I can trust myself… especially on mornings when I wake up in a puddle of my own blood.

ps: if anyone wants me to break up with their boyfriend via a letter on my blog or maybe a video, I’ll totally do that for you. I’m in a strange mood, and this offer won’t be on the table forever. i love you.

the blind leading the blind part 13:

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1. adopt a personality and learn how to use that personality to make conversation when you meet people.

2. when going into a meeting, prepare. if it’s a biz meeting, look up the person you’re meeting with. have an idea of what you want to say, communicate, express. take charge of your life and how you present yourself. be clear on what is important to you.

3. start referring to everything you do as a meeting. lunch with a friend: meeting. Starbucks with mom: meeting. asking the produce guy at the market about apples: meeting. it just makes you sound super cool awesome important all in one!

4. if you have uuber fake bleach blond hair, and an orange (or ANY kind of) fake tan, and have moved to la from somewhere else to hit it big by acting or secretly getting preggers from a rich married dude you met at crunch and are now fucking… i don’t know why you are reading this blog. you don’t belong here. however, if you are naturally blond, but dye your hair brown, and like to think you are your own person… stay here. you’ve found your home.

5. boring is bad.

6.  if you ONLY reserve your smiles for babies, it doesn’t mean you’re good. nice try asshole. How about smiling at a grown up who needs a nice pick me up smile too? Babies can’t talk back and aren’t threatening or intimidating. we’re onto you, you stingy- control freak- smile giver THEN denier!  some babies are cute- I get it, but broaden your horizons why don’t you!

7. always knock first. It’s super rude to try the door knob first. Knock and then listen for someone to yell ‘it’s open’, or ‘I’ll be right there’, or ‘come in’.

8. sometimes if the wrong person calls on your behalf, it’s the same or worse than if you called on your own behalf or didn’t call at all. Watch whose hands you put your life into.

9. if you’ve never slept with a black dude, it probably means you’re racist. if you’ve only slept with a 1/2 black dude. it means you’re half racist.

10. so, you don’t have an electric toothbrush why?

sometimes it’s ok to be a loser:


Normally, I hate the word loser. using it to DEFINE someone makes me shudder. I don’t wanna say it or even be ASSOCIATED with it. I feel guilty if I describe someone as a loser, as if it’s harsher than the word ‘cunt’ or something.

in an attempt to keep people from being a potential loser, or even just a loser in training- I used to TRY to help people figure out what their purpose and contribution to the world could be. So that they could find their unique talent/gift, to bring to the table of life.

But the truth is, they didn’t need my help or anyone elses- because they didn’t WANT it. some people just aren’t ambitious and they never will be. They weren’t born with a built in drive or passion. they don’t have a gift or a hidden gem tucked deep down inside their people soul. And that’s ok.

now I APPLAUD the mind set of the casual, hanger outer, fun haver, non go-getter, with no plans/vision for the future. I’ve realized/accepted that the world actually NEEDS losers. without losers how could we define the winners?  how could we separate the creators from the consumers? whose heads would we use as stepping stones to glory? we’d be knee deep in a puddle! a puddle! In fact, this is my new religion: To inspire NON producers and a general rule of non-productivity in any way, shape, or form. Just DONT do it! use this in ALL aspect of your life. From working out to paying your bills,  getting a job to combing your hair (even though the bed head chic look CAN work on dudes AND girls)!

We need losers to continue on their loser path to nothingness, middle ‘age’dom, old age,  and to keep from getting in our fucking way! We need them to continue to be lazy, get nothing done, acquiring and spreading stds, snorting peanut butter crank, smoking pot, hanging out, shopping all day with someone elses money, partying too much, leaning against walls, avoiding phone calls/not returning phone calls, borrowing money, putting things off, not making plans, living in a trailer, surfing all day,  eating too much, sleeping in too late, celebrating achievements they’ve yet to/and will Never achieve!

Let people NOT aspire to be their best, because it will make rising to the top much easier for the go getters and the people with drive/ goals/ hopes/ dreams/ and the energy to realize them. so stop trying to change your lump of a friend, neighbor, or acquaintance! instead, enjoy him/her for the jokes they tell and the space they waste. have fun with them in your free time. share a dance at a club. and if the sex is great, keep having it. just make sure you get dressed after, go home, and get some fucking work done when you’re back in your own apartment. i love you!

the blind leading the blind part 12:


1. keep your eyes open! even if you’re in a relationship, be aware of who’s around you and what your options are. don’t live your life asleep at the wheel. I’m NOT saying you should cheat. not at all. just pay attention to the people who are attracted to you and friendships or relationships you could have. you are never trapped and it’s important to know you have options and are desirable.

2. how about you answer your FUCKING phone? I KNOW you can see your phone. i KNOW you know it’s me.  I mean, you’re constantly checking it when we’re TOGETHER. i guess you just don’t wanna talk to me. and that’s FINE. as long as YOU’RE fine with the fact that YOU’RE DEAD TO ME. unless you’re busy working, then i totally get it and it’s fine. just call me back.  xo

3. it’s ‘Asian’ when referring to people and ‘oriental’ when referring to objects you racist jerk!

4. don’t talk back to your boyfriend in public. It just looks ugly. it’s also an instant hard off and clitoral downer. Unless the dude is dangerous or threatening your life, keep it together, remain composed, PLUS you can always walk away. I love you.

5. one on one hangouts are much scarier than three people hanging out. i wish this wasn’t true, but it is. 

6. go shopping alone. the chitty chatty banter causes you to use the clothing, or whatever merchandise you’re shopping for, to serve as a defense or distraction- and impulse buys are much more likely to occur. it’s YOUR wallet, but I’m warning you.

7. when real shit is happening, it’s time to drop the snarky front/facade and be a good person. call your friend back. forget the fight, or the petty differences the two of you have. in a perfect world, people would ALWAYS act the way they do after riots or an earthquake. they push the bullshit aside. if a friends/enemies/or acquaintances mom or dad dies, call them/visit them- even if you have NO IDEA what to say. bring flowers and martinelli’s apple cider. if you don’t like a person cuz you thinks they’re a nerd or a dork and it would hurt your cool to be seen with them, or they just get on your nerves- that’s FINE during the superficial rigmarole of the day to day…but if this said ‘dork’ was hurting (emotionally or physically) and needed someone to talk to, would you be able to drop the shit and be there? even though it’s not your ‘job’?

8. going to target will ALWAYS make you happy.

9. there’s a difference between a vaginal ‘yeast’ infection and a ‘bacterial’ infection. know your body. don’t make assumptions. and for the love of god, see a gynecologist!

10. the next time a homeless person asks you for change (especially if he/she is wearing a better outfit than you) you could either give them some money OR do what I do and shout: “what do you expect me to do, give you my debit card? i don’t have any change! get a job you cardboard holding creep.” just giving you options. xo

the boy who taught me about hydrogen peroxide:


i had just gotten out of my five year relationship. i had a list of guys in the back of my mind i had always wanted to make-out with, maybe even have sex with. one boy in particular was a musician dude i had known forever- but more as an acquaintance, and who i shared about a million close mutual friends with. he never said much when i saw him, and i knew nothing REALLY about him… but i loved what his face looked like. I LOVED that he was taller than me. that’s not something easy to accomplish. i’m 5’10. he was so odd looking. he was American, but looked like an English boy from 1963. his style was simple. sweater, jeans, cords, button up shirts. that look. he was TALL and LEAN and stand offish, but not in a mean way, just quiet. an against the wall leaner. i couldn’t read him at all… but from what i had HEARD about him, from all my female friends who had slept with him… he had a crazy huge private. and by private, i mean d. i. c. k. i HATE that word. it makes me feel like how the word bologna sounds… moist and rubbery and cold and thick. yuck! but i was single now and i had to know if this was true. i wanted NOTHING more from him than sex. yes, i said it. just sex. i didn’t care to know what he felt, what his dreams were, or his thoughts. i was on a mission.

i ran into him at a show. he was with a mutual friend. i was shy. i stammered ‘hello’.  i was nervous to show him i liked him. i wasn’t in love or anything, i just didn’t want him thinking he was in high demand. he was wearing a red plaid button up and a look on his face that revealed nothing. i HAD to have him. but how would i do it? i started talking to my friend who owned the venue. i wanted to make sure it was obvious how popular i am, that i have important friends, ties, bonds, and can talk to people whenevs.. because I’m totally fun and interesting. i hope i didn’t blow my cool, as i looked over my shoulder every two seconds to see if he noticed how in demand I was. drat. he never seemed to be looking. oh well, the night was still young. even as i watched him flirt, laugh, and be touched on the shoulder and whispered to by a hot- slutty- red lipstick wearing ny chick who was much skinnier and skankier looking than me, i did not lose hope! instead i was fueled by an inner rage and determination. thinking thoughts like, ‘he has NO idea how amazing i am’. and, ‘i bet I’m WAY better in bed than that trollop skank bitch’. and yet, i thought she was cute too, but this was no time to try to bond and form a new female friendship. besides, she was visiting from outta town anyways and would only leave me heartbroken. plus i heard she was mean, had stds, and slept with EVERYONE- and i DO NOT need a friend like that. back to the lanky super tall dude: the show was ending, and i had to make a play. so i skipped up over to him as he was walking out the front doors and said “hey (insert name here), I’m single now and i think you should know…… we’re gonna sleep together…. soon.” he smiled and laughed “Alexi, you are funny”. “i know” i said, “i can’t help it.”

we laughed. i was glad he could handle and actually ENJOYED my braisen approach/sense of humor. everyone we knew was walking to a cafe down the street. we sat next to each other and barely flirted. i felt nothing for him. nothing. except that i wanted to check him off a list. he represented something i hadn’t been able to have while i was in a five year relationship… sex with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. from the cafe, a smaller group of us went to a bar. when there were only four of us left at the bar: me, my girlfriend, my lanky dude sex toy, and his annoying friend (i didn’t hate him, but my friend wasn’t his biggest fan- and she was the one we were trying to set him up with.) the four of us went back to her house, and twenty minutes later she kicked us out and whispered to me that she’s not my pimp and she’d rather not help me try to score by luring dudes back to her place for foreplay. i understood.

we jumped in my dudes car, went to his house. he dropped his friend off, grabbed some stuff inside, and we got back in the car. we looked at eachother for what felt like the first time all night. i leaned in, took his face in my hands and kissed him. we drove off  to his band mates house who he was house sitting for. his bandmate was dating a well known actress at the time.  her red lipstick was all over the white pillowcases. but i didn’t care. it made it neater! torrid sex in a bed that didn’t belong to either of us, with a movie stars crazy red lipstick all over the place? AWESOME! it was like that song: ‘those Hollywood nights, in those Hollywood hills’! this was gonna be epic.

we cut the bullshit/small talk, and i flopped onto the bed- giving him a look that said ‘get the fuck over here bitch.’ he jumped on top of me, and we made out forever- clothes coming off until we were both naked with the lights still on. ON! amazers! crazer amazers! i looked at his privates. they were big, but not as huge as i’d thought- but pretty impressive. as i looked down and then back up again, i smiled.

we had sex every which way possible! (except bum sex, cuz i totally don’t do that. too scary and gross) me on top, him on top, 69’ing, me going down on him and him me. we were both super limber so legs were criss crossing and flailing all over the place. at one point during a french kiss during the wild sex party, our teethe klunked into eachother and my lip got cut. i didn’t realize until after we were done that this happened. but my cut was small compared to the gallons of blood it left all over the white sheets! i wasn’t having my period. this wasn’t supposed to happen. plus, cuts and blood and sex with strangers are all ingredients for a panic attack this day and age. anywayzies, back to the sheets….

dude and i wouldn’t be able to pass it off as crazy movie star lipstick either. we were fucked! he went into the next room and came back. ‘i googled getting out blood, and it says hydrogen peroxide will lift it out of the fabric.’ it totally worked! we laid back down, and i told him about the word on the street/word of mouth about his privates and that all the girls told me it’s massive. he asked if it lived up to the dream. i said “yeah, i guess”. he was genuinely flattered “really? wow.” he asked if i wanted to spend the night and he’d drive me home after we woke up, but i said no. I’m much more shy and anxiety ridden about actually SLEEPING next to a guy, than having sex with him. like it’s TOO intimate too soon. i know this way of thinking is a bit backwards, but that’s how i feel.

he drove me home. and as we gazed forward in the early morning light, making idle chit chat about nothing, i looked over and said “wow, i can’t believe it. i don’t feel sad or empty at all. i don’t have any of that regret or shame society and friends tell you you’ll have.” he just smiled. i felt nothing. and luckily since i was completely sober during this entire experience, i wasn’t hung over either. we arrived at my house, said goodbye as if we’d never had sex at all (just short of a handshake and a slap on the back) and i walked inside my apartment. all by myself, in my one bedroom sanctuary, i thought about how exciting it was to be single and all the adventures to come! little did i know i’d make out with his roommate months later. but that’s another story altogether. xo, i love you.

who wrote this?



Soooooooo, basically I just went through one of the most life changing experiences of my entire life EVER!. No i didn’t make out with Vincent Gallo (yet!) No I didn’t have an abortion, if you thought I did y’all obvi haven’t been reading my prior posts, and no I did not just win a prize during a live Ellen taping. But I just totally up and moved house like MD. I don’t care who tries to tell you you cant move all your shit from point A to point B with a little help (thanks Mike)- they are naysayers!

Not only did my stuff get moved; it was sorted , stacked , prioritized, and all put in it’s right place- predetermined by yours truly. And I have more crap than someone with, like, alot of stuff. Like J.Lo Louis trunks full of crapola. Actually my stuff is more like AHA-Mazing quality books, movies, photographs and soft clothing. Moving is central to being a functional human being. if  we did not move, we would all end up like Charlie from the chocolate factories bedridden grandparents! It can give you a totally new perspective on life in general and it always changes the view. I’m so much closer to all the things I Love about LA now! But I wonder: will I still appreciate them as much now that I’m so close? Its like when you move in with a BF and you wake up and you are all like “Who the hell are you?”

Choosing the right surroundings will always shape your attitude and demeanor. Someone once told me “No peace in your home, no peace in your life” that person is dead now. NO wait JK, JK! But for cereals, like why the eff do people continue to live in squalor? It’s not that hard to clean the dishes and make the bed. (Boys this means you) It is your presentation of yourself that people see and react too. There’s not some mystical colored chakra vibes surrounding you and I don’t care what your Yoga instructor says- he’s trying to get into your stretchy American Apparel leggings.

Putting the key into this new dwelling of mine and exploring this new area is like having a brand new boyfriend. everything is new and exiting! Except that is, for the parking sitch! But whatevs, I don’t like people coming over anywaysies, it’s called MY HOUSE for a reason (not referring to lame uber Miami style club). Which leads me to another epidemic I have noticed, there IS a difference between a friend and a room mate. Keep this relationship defined, I’ve gone to someones house where there are literally 3 people living in the living room. I know, embarrassing, but it was a long time ago. I know they call it a “living room” but don’t take everything all literal all the time! sheesh. It is not rude to tell someone they cannot stay over, even in this economy!

So, bottom line, I am happy with this change. it will no doubt lead to better, funnier, more offensive, more helpful, more insightful and more thought provoking blog posts. See you in your hood soonsies… XO ME.

stress doesn’t suit me:


I’ve been pretty hectic lately. I just moved from Los Feliz to the Beverly Melrose area AND had other actual WORK stuff to do (nonstop) at the same time. It was kuh-razy.

I don’t handle stress easily. I internalize AND externalize all of my feelings. I break out-  of good manners town AND pimple wise! I wanna have sex with everyone, but can’t bring myself to have sex with ANYONE, cuz I’m too stressed! All I wanna do is throw in the towel and get on the tram ride at universal studios.

I need to be hugged, but push everyone away. I wear all my ugliest bras because I know no one will want to undress me. I’m on edge with bank tellers, when I KNOW I should never be. I’m polite to EVERYONE else, except whoever I’m dating,and my mom. I avoid my friends, but wonder why they aren’t calling me. They could pick up the phone too you know! I say I want to build better friendships, have peers who are inspiring and doing a lot with their lives. And yet I have no time for the friendships I’ve ALREADY made. Or are these just not the IDEAL friendships I’m MEANT to experience?

I make time to see my therapist, but when I see her, it’s more of a staring match and I can’t remember what I had planned to say, what I NEED to talk about. I walk out of her office $100 lighter without having even ASKED for at LEAST a guided meditation to help me unwind. Everyone says: “relax.”. “Just breath”, “take a breath”. But when I do, it’s more like hyperventilating.

I finished the work I had to do, I finished my move- but have a few more looming trips to bed bath and beyond and ikea to make, but this is just to tie up loose ends!I can breath again. I’m smiling again. And now my brain has too much time to think, too much free time to let bad thoughts of self doubt creep in. So I make lists and start the cycle again: to be as busy as I JUST was- HOPING I won’t be as panicked this time around. Cuz too much idle time makes me depressed. And while too much on my plate makes me panic: the only rewards come after the WORK is done!

When I can stand back and look at what I did even though I was too blind and spazzed out during the process, THAT makes the panic worth it.  idle time makes me pick at my face, eat too much, cry and seem desperate. I’ll choose panic every time. I love you. Xoxox

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