Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend

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.

Incoming: crapload of photos

With Natali Del Conte and Anna David. Note the way my left earring wants to go back to the other room.

Here are some shots from Red Eye.

I think this is where it’s dawning on me that Greg is introducing me but forgetting to say my name.

Yep.

Right.

And then I called him on it.

Because I’m fun like that.

Here’s a photo you’ve probably seen before but I have it three times on my computer. It’s as if the photo wanted to be posted again.

Here we are at Artie Fuqua’s bday party after Red Eye.

From left to right: Joshua McCarroll, Artie Fuqua, Anna David and me. Please note the way I look surprised by this photo even though I’m pretty sure I’m the one who took it.

“Hey Anna, let’s take MORE photos of ourselves.” Oh oh oh! You know how I’ve talked on here before about how my nose and cheeks turn red for no reason? And by no reason I mean when I feel any sort of emotion whatsoever? You can kind of see it happening here. And I think the emotion I was feeling was “OMG, some guy just asked me if I was a magician because I tried to ask him about card shuffling because he was doing magic tricks near me and what have I become?”

Note: Anna is sick of me posting photos of her in her winter wear but I think they’re so cute!

Showing off the hot new hat trend.

With my friend Mikelle on New Year’s Eve in Orange County

How I spent the flight

Greetings my little pecan loaves. Last night I took a red eye flight back to New York. Normally I take flights that arrive late at night and then I suffer something I’ve dubbed “traveler’s melancholy” which is where I feel kind of lonely and overwhelmed with all my suitcases and thoughts. When I flew back from Canada last month the show put me on a super early flight which got me back in the morning and I realized I like arriving in daylight so I thought perhaps a red eye would be all kinds of awesome because I wouldn’t have to haul ass to get to the airport in time and I’d arrive with the whole day stretching out before me. What I didn’t quite take into account was how disoriented I would feel on the other side of the flight. But whereas the flight time from NYC to CA was a cruel seven hours, the time going the other direction was only four hours and twenty minutes or something like that and no, that’s not a pot reference. Although I snacked like I was stoned. You know what’s kind of healthy? The way JetBlue now offers hundred calorie packs of cookies. You know what’s less healthy? Eating three of them and a bag of munchie mix. I suppose it’s sort of balanced out by the way I only ate scrambled egg whites the day before because I was feeling kind of nauseous, if by balanced out you mean there goes all your hard work, fat ass. But anyway, would you like a breakdown of my activities in the air?

flight time: 4 hrs, 20 mins approx

flipped continuously through 36 channels of satellite TV: 4 hrs

worried that incessant channel surfing would annoy guy next to me: 2 mins

put on sleep mask and then took it off and then put it on and then took it off and then put it on and then took it off: 20 mins

debated snack options: 4 mins

picked through a bag of munchie mix looking for pretzels: 10 mins

ate a few cheetos from the bag. also, some doritos and sun chips: 8 mins

ate the whole damn bag which was NOT THE ORIGINAL PLAN: 6 mins

yes, I know I spent about 24 mins with that evil bag of munchie mix which I wish I’d never opened

tipped my head back and poured munchie dust down my throat: 2 mins

ripped bag open and rubbed it all over my body: 2 mins

smeared orange grease under my eyes and ran up and down the aisles screaming: 3 mins

tried to wipe orange shit off my hands but realized I didn’t have a napkin: 1 min

remembered I had an old kleenex in my coat pocket: 1 min

fished around coat pocket but coat was around my legs like a blanket so finding pocket involved kind of feeling up guy next to me: 2 mins

explained to guy next to me that while it was fun, I don’t want to be tied down right now: 3 mins

wondered why everything was all wet in the bathroom: 3 mins

slept: 17 mins, GIVE OR TAKE

slept like a log thru landing so that when I woke up the lights in the plane were on and people were standing up and I was confused: 3 mins

I’m not even adding all this up because I know it’s more than the flight time. No wonder it felt so long!

I’m December!

I’m December in the (un)Official 2009 Red Eye calendar! Hooray for me! And thanks to Joe for putting this together even if I’m now going to have to hibernate for 11 months or so.

Did I mention my sister made Tobey calendars? Yes, I think I did.

Also, last night I was choosing between two shirts. One which showed off the not-all-that-ample cleavage and a turtleneck. The turtleneck was more comfortable but the other one was more “hey, look at me!” I decided to just wear the hey look at me shirt but then found out we were going to be watching a band outside for much of the evening so I should dress as warmly as possible. “Oh goody” I said with as much sarcasm dripping from my voice as possible. I considered explaining that this plan sounded about as much fun as sitting on my hand for three hours till I lost all feeling and then slapping myself in the face with it but instead I just decided to change sweaters. In the course of doing so I wrenched in some way that made it so my neck and shoulders are totally stiff and now I’m that person who has to turn my whole upper body to look to the left or the right. “I wish I was seeing you guys on a night when I was more limber,” I announced through gritted teeth. Other things I said: “I’m so cold and stiff I can’t hear,” (it makes no sense and yet it was happening) and also, “Sorry I’m so cranky and whiny.” I wasn’t really sorry though. Due the limited mobility I wasn’t able to be as smarmy as I wished when someone I haven’t seen in forever told me he’d seen me on an Adam Sandler special. I couldn’t even nod arrogantly. I love nodding arrogantly!

Also, I was introduced to a guy who patted down and then blew on my coat sleeves. The explanation? “He’s really drunk.” It was strange though because it was almost like he was demonstrating some kind of tailoring prowess. I don’t care if he’s a lush, if I need something hemmed I’m tracking him down.

A slew of photos

Here I am with the imaginary father of my imaginary children, Joshua McCarroll, Red Eye wunderkind and McConaughey correspondent. We’re in the green room, wearing green. Well, one of us was. By the way, McConaughey is kind of impossible to spell.

Here I am doing The Strategy Room earlier today. I totally came up with the best strategy. I’d tell you, but it’s a secret.

Here I am smiling, probably at something I said.

Here I am cocking my head because I heard a high pitched noise or smelled a piece of kibble.

This is me on Red Eye last night shortly before Greg called me out for not answering the specific question he asked. What you didn’t hear in the commercial break? Me saying “How dare you call me out for not answering the question! Not answering the question is the backbone of this show!”

And then here’s where I explained that I don’t think smart pills actually make you smart. I think they make you annoying.

And then here I am making this face.

Oh look, it’s the beach (I had to get these off my camera. They’re from my recent trip of OC for Thanksgiving).

Another beach shot.

Another beach shot. Lovely, isn’t it?

And then here’s a couch I saw today at Raymour & Flanigan. This one’s four hundred and something dollars cheaper than the one sitting in my apartment right now but which I could return. Should I return the one in my apartment and get this one instead? It’s entirely polyester/synthetic/foam whereas there are actual feathers/down in the one in my apartment. Hm. It seemed comfortable though.

Interior design from TV shows and movies

I should be packing. I should be packing clothes for LA and Canada and I should be putting things in bottles and then ziploc bags and I should also be stuffing socks into shoes. By my own logic, I plan to go naked in Orange County.

Anyway though, I just found this site about how to get the set design looks from TV and movies and it’s cool http://silverscreensurroundings.blogspot.com/

For someone who has so little style, it’s weird that I’m spending so much time reading about style. I don’t plan to apply it. I just like to look at the pictures. And yet my words have style. Sometimes I speak entirely in corduroy.

Also, Gossip Girl made me cry tonight.