Archive for the ‘MINIspace’ Category
I just found this fast-moving action sequence on YouTube. It’s from the auto show, specifically the design challenge at the auto show. The guy’s named is spelled Jacques but he pronounces it Jack. Sort of like how my name is spelled Alison but I pronounce it Yolanda. But lest you are new to all things me, please watch some of my more exciting videos before deciding that you love me. (That’s where this was all going anyway, right? Admit it: you love me. You love me in spite of this video. I knew it.)
For example, when the car turns left, that’s totally me turning left!
My dream of an outtake reel from the recent MINI shoot is dying on the vine, time constraints being what they are, so I thought I’d just tell you about what would have been on the reel. The reel that you’ll never see. Did I mention you won’t see it? Because you won’t.
1) Me doing a whole demonstration of how quiet the engine is and then ending it by making a joke about how it’s “one horsepower.” Then me driving away and then driving back into the frame and explaining that I was just joking, it’s “normal horsepower.” Then me driving away and driving back into the frame and saying to Ben that the damn take would have worked if only I hadn’t said that dumb thing about horsepower.
2) Me taking the battery charging plug that you’re supposed to plug into the car and plugging it into my hip and then jumping around as if I were getting electrocuted.
3) Me draping myself over the car in a mock provocative way a la car girls at car shows. (Mockvocative?)
4) Me asking Jim if the car emitted patchouli fumes. He said no. (That was in the video). But then I asked him if it emitted marshmallows, butterflies, rainbows or Nagchampa (“it’s a kind of incense” I explained)
There was more, but now I have a headache.
I weep for all the jokes that didn’t make this cut.
I’ve written before about the glee I feel when someone says their face hurts and I spin around and say “Really? It’s killing me!” and how even when I’m the one whose face hurts I still feel that giddiness because I can insult myself over and over again. Did that even make sense? Probably not.
But yeah, my face is coated in makeup that I’ve been wearing since this morning and I’m waiting around to watch footage with Ben to see if we need to shoot anything else. I don’t think we do, however if I wash my face then we totally will. You know?
I did a lot of driving today… A lot of driving up and down the same block. I also gave a ration of sass to a German guy for not acting more excited to see me. He told me I had to give him a break because he’s been standing in a garage all day. I told him considering he’s been in a garage all day, seeing me again for the fourth time in the span of a couple hours should be a fucking WOOHOO type situation.
I’m sleepy, readers. Sleepy and hungry. I’d order room service but it’s closed and plus, I have to be up and at em and in a MINI E by 8am so I should just go to sleep and wake up more lithe. Who couldn’t stand to be lither? Not this guy.
(It cracks me up to refer to myself that way, I think, because it’s a very indirect reference to one of my favorite off color jokes. Perhaps I’ll tell you someday. Or maybe I won’t.)
Anyway, I flew here yesterday on Virgin America which was pretty cool save for the fact that the flight was like six hours. Yes, we got in an hour early but what no one seemed to realize is that clever Virgin America scheduled the flight to take seven hours which is ridiculous. So when we got in an hour early people were hooting and hollering but I was raining on their parade in my head and also judging them because it’s what I do. I’m fun like that.
The flight attendants were nice and splashy though. One befriended me on my way to the bathroom. I told him it was my first time flying Virgin. “Oh my God, you’re a Virgin virgin!” He said excitedly. Then he shouted to the rest of the crew that I was a Virgin virgin. I cried and asked him to hold me. Then he never called me again.
What was I saying? I don’t know.
See you at 8am!
There aren’t different swatches in each photo. Just a different configuration.
In other news, today I went to a press luncheon presentation for Chile. This is one of the perks of not working in an office—getting to go to things like this. See, I used to get invited to stuff like this all the time but had to say no because if I vacated my desk for three hours I might never come back. Back in those days I was young and naive. I didn’t know what I know today, which is that even though you might think Chilean food is spicy, it’s not. That’s one of the big misconceptions about this diverse and friendly country with many organic ingredients. “Flavored well, not spicy,” said a bald man wearing a pink tie. Also, there is something called Merken and NO ONE made any merkin jokes. That’s how civilized this crowd was.
Um, what else? Please forgive me, I’m distracted by Jeff Conaway and that piece of work Vicki Whatshername. Oh wait, I’m wrong! He’s not bitching at Vicki! He was telling the new tech Luisha that he doesn’t like her. I should never multitask like this.
So I jotted down a few choice sentences I heard today. These are they:
“I just want to give a shout out to the avocado oil.”
“Basil? Sauvignon? Love it!”
“It’s not a wine that shouts at you with exclamation points.”
My friend Mike took some photos which he told me he’s heard are referred to, in the porn business, as food porn. Or maybe it was in the food writing world.
I’m joking as I’m actually familiar with this atrocious term and long ago decided that until a naked person appears in the photos I don’t think we should be calling it porn. Have people no respect for porn?
Um. Oh, Mike’s photos: