Archive for the ‘parents being all parenty’ Category
This house is a very sunny tar pit
I’ve likened my parent’s house to a tar pit before in that when I’m here I find it hard to get out and also I smell vaguely like gasoline and feathers stick to me, but usually that only applies to my relationship with the outside world. I get stuck in the house. As if there’s an electric fence surrounding it. An electric fence surrounding a tar pit. Today though I’m noticing an inability to go into the other room to get my portable hard drive which would allow me to edit a couple videos. Without it? Videos will not be happening, at least not at this computer. So then what’s stopping me from lifting my ass off this chair and using my legs to go into the other room and then sitting down and opening my laptop and ejecting the hard drive and then using those same legs to walk back into this room and diving behind this computer (over the pen jar and wastebasket and careful not to knock off the post it notes stuck to this computer) and plugging it in and then sitting back down in this chair? I fell asleep just thinking about it. Plus the other room is really sunny. Like too sunny to have to endure this early, which incidentally isn’t very early. It’s as if I’m hungover though I haven’t had a drink since August 8 or August 1. I can’t remember but it was after a show and it was one beer. Before that I hadn’t had a drink since months before. I make a beeline for fun and then I take a left turn right as I get there. So what I’m saying is I’m not hungover, I’m just lazy. But it’s not true laziness, it’s paralysis. This house paralyzes me and whereas previously it only kept me inside but free to move about, overnight it’s acting like insecticide, or maybe it’s nerve gas, in that I take a movement and then get stuck. Dammit, that would have been a somewhat decent metaphor if I remembered the science behind insecticide and nerve gas.
See, part if it is that I’m currently at my mom’s computer which is big and nice and orthopedically correct and has a nice big chair and though she’s left handed and I’m right handed which means I have to move the mouse when I sit here, I’m ok with that. This is juxtaposed to me sitting on the couch in the family room with my feet up on the coffee table and my laptop in my lap, squinting because the sun is beating the left side of my face through the picture windows and then trying to concentrate even though the TV is on, loud, and people are in the room talking or possibly arguing. Usually I get about as far as checking twitter and then I decide I’m done with whatever I’m doing, or maybe I sit like that for awhile and then I stand up and everything hurts. And then I realize I’m far too young for everything to hurt but I’m pretty sure the coffee table is at the exact wrong height to not create some kind of lumbar chaos. And while we’re on the topic, pretty much everyone in my family has orthopedic problems but I don’t. I have some kind of disc problem which I’ve had forever, ever since getting thrown from a horse when I was 9 or possibly I was born with it, we don’t know, but it very rarely if ever gives me problems. And I like to pride myself on being someone who isn’t complaining about physical ailments all the time, with the exception of that left eye twitch a year ago which I just had to talk about. It’s not that I don’t complain, I just like to only complain about superficial things or feelings/thoughts.
What was I saying? Oh yes, I’m squatting at this computer. Not literally. I’m in a chair. But I’m a squatter. I’ve done a land grab. I’ve annexed it. I’ve absconded with it except I’m pretty sure I’m using that word incorrectly. Let’s check. Yes, that’s not at all what I mean.
And if I get up to get my hard drive? I will quite possible lose this computer. So my plan is to sit here until plate techtonics cause the family room to move closer to the computer room. It’s unfortunate that I already need to pee.
And now I’m overhearing some bickering over which parent I’ll be driving where later. I’m like a yo-yo, only my parents aren’t divorced. They’re just irritable.
You guys, remember when I used to be fun and funny? I miss that!
A list because you love lists
So I’m back in New York after six intense weeks of Marvin care and I have so many things to say it’s making it hard for me to say anything. This is a hazard when you’re a blogger who is known for sharing the details of your life. Also when you’re known for being achingly beautiful. I’m telling you, spending nights in the hospital did my complexion no favors. And that delicious hospital cafeteria food went straight to my hips. I think I should make a list of things I need to tell you:
1) I trust you’re all coming to see me Thursday in News Distillery at the 92Y. Here’s a story about Faith Salie that mentions it if you want more info which you probably do because you’re so like that.
2) I’m really proud of the ARIYNBF shows I put on in CA and I’m glad I did that even though at times it was hard.
3) Perhaps you’re reading this and you’re new to me and you’re wondering what I’m talking about.
4) Soon I will be able to speak about it, I think, but for now I have to be all vague and elliptical but here’s what you can know: one of my family members whom I’ve named “Marvin” was just diagnosed with something no one wants and so I’ve been helping out.
5) Not crabs, though no one wants them.
6) Or Jordan almonds.
7) Before the Mad Men premiere I kept wanting to write a list of “Mad Men inspired drinking games by someone who doesn’t watch Mad Men and doesn’t understand drinking games.” That person isn’t me, of course, since I watch Mad Men and love to drink till I puke.
It would be a persona. A device. A trope, if you will.
9) You won’t.
10) By the way, I don’t actually love to drink till I puke. In fact I seldom drink these days which is all part of the way I don’t have fun and am letting life pass me by.
11) woe = me
12) I’m actually tired of the Goldenrod Footbridge. Can you believe it?
13) In the past going home to CA was taking a break however a few days before I returned to New York it was suggested to me that I should return if for no other reason than I clearly needed a break and needed to get strong again before coming back to CA. This idea that New York is now the place I go when I need a break is doing all sorts of funky things in my head.
14) Specifically it’s doing the electric slide.
15) “A Marvin being sick marks the true end of childhood,” said a therapist.
16) Or maybe she said, “A Marvin being sick truly marks the end of childhood.”
17) Well, you get the point.
17.5) Not MY therapist! What use would I have for therapy? My brain is perfection and my emotions are a thing of beauty and my thoughts conform to the Platonic ideal of thoughts and my feelings are so appropriate you only WISH you had my feelings.
18) It’s hot in New York. I kind of hate that.
19) True Blood is now my favorite distraction and I’m sad I’m all caught up.
20) Also? I’ve been cheating on Splenda with Truvia. Just a little though.
21) I miss Tobey.
22) Congrats to Natali Del Conte on the birth of her baby boy!
23) Thank you all for the encouraging words you’ve sent my way.
Cute conversation I just overheard between a mom and daughter
Mom: Honey, I told you I was proud of you five times
Daughter (probably age 7 or so): I was JUST JOKING
Mom: Why are you joking?
Daughter (exasperated): I don’t KNOW! I JUST LIKE JOKES!
Mom: Is it because I didn’t give you enough accolades?
Daughter: You are ACCOLADE-ANNOYING!
One more photo, I’m neurotic, my dad on Twitter, George Clooney
photo by Eric Fischer
Okay so there’s one more photo. Actually there are a lot more, like a zillion more, but there’s one more (above) that I should probably include with the others I posted last night however I have this weird hangup about the right side of my face—I think the left side is more attractive. Unfortunately I didn’t quite realize how strongly I felt about this, in fact I thought maybe it was something I could get over, but now I realize it’s not a fleeting neurosis, it’s a permanent one. This must be how Phantom of the Opera felt!
Perhaps you are thinking, “But many of these photos are taken from the right side,” and yes, this is true, however what I don’t like seeing from that angle is on display more so in the above photo than the others, and yet I also recognize it’s a good photo. Sort of like if you have a shirt which is orange and it’s a perfectly good shirt and you just happen not to like orange.
Sometimes I feel like the world is full of fun house mirrors because the truth is I don’t really know what I look like. My own sense of my looks is very wiggly, and yes I realize wiggly is not exactly the word I’m going for. The first time I ever saw myself on TV I was enormously relieved because I really liked the way I looked—as in I felt I looked a million times more normal than I feared I might—because I think I had this hidden fear that I looked freakish. I realize these feelings aren’t quite in accordance with reality, but they’re stronger and deeper than the visual cues which, like I’m saying, are wiggly. And I’ve always said that if I hadn’t like how I looked on TV that first time I probably wouldn’t have wanted to continue doing it. The handful of times I’ve been unhappy with TV appearances are so unpleasant that if that was the norm–if going on TV was a hardship or something I had to really psych myself up for—like having surgery or going to Kinko’s, say—I’d never put myself through it. Instead it’s validating, which I realize suggests some deep schism or emptiness inside me which is setting me up for never feeling contented later in life, but I’d argue that everyone who puts him or herself in the public eye to a degree is dealing with some combination of these feelings deep inside.
I should add though that I don’t think about this stuff all the time—when I do my Ustream show I often do it without makeup and I trust that I’ll look fine and how I look isn’t really the point anyway. It’s more like all the above feelings are in me somewhere and periodically they flare up.
Also, thank you for all your comments last night! Something weird is happening with the blog where when you click on the permalinks for the photos posts (as opposed to viewing them from the alisonrosen.com/blog URL) all the photos aren’t showing up so I just want to make sure when you indicated which ones you liked you were seeing all of them. There should have been 11 photos in all (6 in the red sweater and 5 in the black shirt).
Let me know if this changes anything!
And yes I realize there is a world outside of me and my face however I’ve spent some time in it and frankly: not that impressed.
Oh and in other news, I’m going to get my dad on Twitter! Should he be JohnRosen, PapaRosen, AlisonsDad or something else?
Oh and also also, I watched Up In The Air last night. I liked it! And then I was thinking that for most people it’s probably this weird bit of trivia that George Clooney was in Facts of Life however for me, since I’m freakishly well acquainted with FOL, when I see him onscreen I just think, “Well, good for George The Handyman!”
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 »
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!
My mom’s mom
This is where I get my blond hair and blue eyes
This is my mom’s mom. She died when I was six. Wasn’t she pretty? Last night my mom sent my sister and me some old family photos and letters which she’d just received. It’s pretty sobering stuff. My grandmother made it to America from Vienna right as the war broke out but her brother and parents weren’t so lucky. Her attempts to bring her brother over here and the eventual discovery that her family had been killed—just as she’d raised enough money to secure her brother’s transport—is all detailed in there. Perhaps I’ll share some of it here. I haven’t figure it out yet. What’s a little atrocity in between fart jokes? Exactly.
Dads are the next hot trend
You know what’s a hot trend right now? Dads. I am basing this on two things: 1) everyone LOVES the episodes of The Daily Alison featuring my dad. 2) some guy on twitter is totally copying me and writing down crazy shit his dad says and tweeting it under the name @shitmydadsays and everyone’s talking about it and he has a zillion followers.
Ok so perhaps he’s not copying me, but I mean, he’s not NOT copying me.
So when all the other people start writing about how dads are the next hot thing and dads are a meme and all that, please remember that you read it here first. I INVENTED dads, you guys. Before I came along it was all single parent households and moms and I was like, “Hey, I have an idea, lets get some dads all up in here,” and then fast forward to now where they are so popular they even have their own holiday. Plus, you can put many words in front the words dad and father to add shades of meaning which shows that the mere notion of male parents is infiltrating culture. Some examples?
Absentee
Deadbeat
Rad
Ducklike
Drunk
Abusive
Negligent
Funky
But wait you guys, you can also add words AFTER the words father and dad. I’m telling you, there’s no stopping dads. They are here to stay! Check it out. Apply the following words and phrases after dad or father:
of the year
of the bride
knows best
doesn’t live here anymore
left, but it’s not your fault
moved out, but it is your fault
drinks a lot
is drunk again
is so silly!
is taking a nap. shhhh.
