Alison Rosen

Photos: CA, NYC, Hannity

There are loads of photos that have been sitting on my phone or computer that I’ve been meaning to put on this blog and I think the time is now.

Here’s my mom and Tobey from when I was in California for Thanksgiving. Isn’t he cute? There is only one answer.

Here’s the beach. Isn’t it beachy? There is only one answer. Read the rest of this entry »

The Daily Alison (Ep. 120; My mom and I went to Rogers Gardens)

It’s as if Santa blew Christmas chunks all over a garden design center. But festive!

Thanksgiving seasons

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’m sitting at the kitchen table of my parents’ house sweating my lady balls off. Everyone says there aren’t any seasons in CA however there are seasons in this house. It’s nuclear winter in my old bedroom and Dante’s Inferno in the kitchen. Those are some of the seasons right? My understanding is that these are the seasons:

Spring
Summer
Fall
August
Autumn
Winter
Winter Squash
Tennis
Cricket
Racketball
Blue
Seven
Dante’s Inferno
Gary’s Inferno
Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride
Nuclear Winter
Nukuler Winter
Fred Winter
Shelly Winters
Indian Summer

So last night I shivered into bed wearing sweatpants, socks, a nightgown and sweatshirt and then slept under a duvet and three blankets. I’m not even making this up. Now I’m in another room sweating. And I’d adjust the air/thermostat/air conditioning/what have you but my parents bedroom is not only another season but another time period entirely (Paris before The War, if you must) (basically the problem is that the whole house is set up so their bedroom is a toasty 70 or whatever they like it at, the rest of the house be damned) and I’m afraid I’ll broil them or flash freeze them or whatever if I adjust anything.

In other news, there is no other news.

Oh wait, well there is this. Remember when I took up biking over the summer? And then I got back to New York and borrowed Dustin’s bike and named it Ernesto and it’s currently sitting in my kitchen and I don’t ride it because it doesn’t fit me well? Well my sister’s bike which fits me better is here in CA and yesterday my mom’s handy man who is 6′5″ or maybe 6′8″ and helps put up holiday lights and remodels cabinets and removes dead rats and is like family to us told me yesterday he enjoyed watching me on TV to which I responded that I simply CANNOT live like this, having to interact with fans in my own home. Then I stormed into my room, put on a parka and began shrieking.

Anyway, he got the bike down from the hooks where it normally hangs and so perhaps I’ll ride it as a way to offset the junk I fear I’ll be smuggling in my trunk this holiday season. Tusks mostly. And those tiny turtles which are illegal but so adorable.

And thanks to everyone who joined in the live Ustream show last night. That was fun!

Video from when I played in a band on The Daily Alison

A bunch of you have been asking to see video from when I played in The Angoras so here you go. A few songs from a show we played at The Garage in Hollywood in 2001. I’m playing the sparkly silver Gretsch. Paula is in the middle and Yami is on bass. Tim was on drums. Paula and Tim still play music in bands. All three of my former band mates have been on my show. I miss them.

even MORE photos

Here’s my friend Yami and me on July 4.

Here’s Mike and me on July 4.

Here’s Mike pretending to be passed out on the sidewalk while Brian takes a photo of him. (This is an ongoing photo series.)

Here’s Bret playing a rusty trombone. (Get it?)

Here’s me wearing a hat and glasses because when I see hats and glasses I have to put them on.

Here’s me at the beach looking like I totally belong.

Here’s my friend Brian wearing a stylish sweater.

Here’s the Nagel poster that Mike hung on the outside of his recording studio.

And here’s the Nagel when Mike and Brian attempted to set it on fire with firecrackers. I tried to stay inside but they made me come out and take a photo. (This whole adventure is recounted in this episode of The Daily Alison.)

The Daily Alison (Where I talk to my dad in person about my daredevil athleticism)

Don’t tell my parents but I think I’m a little sunburned!

Drawers; Drew Toal

So I’m back in NY and I haven’t unpacked yet but there’s something I need to say before I do that and also I’ll probably need to sit around for awhile and possibly I’ll never unpack. I just don’t like unpacking. I don’t really like packing either. I’ve got a problem with things. I never quite know what to do with them and I have trouble getting rid of them. Over the vacation I was hanging out with the friend I dubbed Phil in the last post, although I could totally tell you it was the friend I dubbed Collins because seriously, how would you know? He had this bank of very small drawers with tiny things inside them. Tiny Tabasco bottles and those runts candies and teacup poodles and thimbles. Actually they were thimble poodles. They’re so cute but I can’t help but feel sorry for them.

Actually, none of those things were in the drawers. I don’t really know what was in the drawers, probably nails of various sizes and washers and thumb tacks and twist ties and earring backings and paper clips and Q-tips and cotton balls and perfume samples and ribbons and very small scarves and packets of Splenda.

Oh! Speaking of, my landlords who are the best landlords ever got me a Facts of Life DVD and a book of recipes featuring Splenda for my bday! Aren’t those the best gifts ever? They are!

So back to the small drawers. I looked at this bank of drawers and felt so calm and relaxed looking at it. It was like a waterfall screen saver or nature sounds. It was the organizational equivalent of a rainstick, except rainsticks are cheesy and make me think of didgeridoos, which are noisy.

I was so profoundly affected by the small drawers that I thought to myself, “Self, take note of this and do the equivalent in your New York apartment.”

As I write this I’m sitting inside a small drawer and to my left is my sleeping drawer and to my right is my showering drawer. The only thing is that it’s kind of difficult to use the bathroom in the middle of the night because it’s hard to open the drawers from the inside and once you manage to get the thing open you have to throw yourself over the edge and then cling to the whole bank of drawers and then, because they all look the same from the outside it’s easy to forget which is which. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

Wait, none of that was what I meant to say. Damn!

What I meant to say was that there’s this young whippersnapper with whom I worked at Time Out New York by the name of Drew Toal who has informed me that he wants to challenge my media empire. “It’s lonely in the upper quadrant of the lower middle,” I warned him, but there was no getting through to him. He has a blog and I’m remiss in not linking to it so go there and get to know him.

The purse I mentioned on Twitter

So I mentioned on Twitter that I’d fallen in love with a purse I can’t afford and then everyone was like “what purse? picture?” but I didn’t want to take a photo at Bloomingdales because I’m pretty sure they’ll take you out back and shoot you for doing so and considering my already high profile, that’s really the last thing I need.

How high is my profile? Oh my god you guys, I can barely move about unmolested by the prying eyes of my public. Prying, molesting eyes. Usually the left pries while the right molests. If I happen to catch them in a mirror then it’s reversed. I think. Wait? Hm.

Anyway, here’s the purse:

It’s by L.A.M.B. Did you know that I wrote the first ever national cover story about No Doubt? I did. Be impressed. It doesn’t get my free purses though. But Gwen hugged me at the VMA’s in 1998 and thanked me. It’s like, say it with purses, Gwen. [note: I am JOKING.]
Ooh, look, it also comes in this color.