is that if I wake up and this hot headachey barfy feeling has turned into a flu I will be SO PISSED. But perhaps not as pissed as the people next to me on Friday’s flight to Idaho. Work sick? Oh yes I will. Someday allow me to regale you with stories of working a red carpet with the worst case of pink eye I’ve ever had. I even have pictures of it which a friend once saw and said, “Gross! You should get rid of those!” I don’t know why I keep them. As emergency boyfriend repellent. They seem to be working even as I speak! What am I saying? I’m not sure. See, I’m already delirious. Really though, both of my eyes puffed up and I felt like I’d been punched in both eyes. It was more pain than itching. I bent my head over while blow drying my hair and the ache was unreal. But that was years ago. Actually, I have a longer story to tell about a jerk I crossed paths with on the street today, but that one will take too much energy to type right now, so instead I’ll leave you wondering about things like street jerks and how my hair got so big last night. About that: somehow it inflated on the walk from hair and makeup to the newsroom. As if it were jet-puffed. Perhaps it was the new kind of hairspray they used. Maybe it’s made out of crushed up tampons. Now see, that’s just gross! I blame this impending flu which I so better not wake up with.
Author Archive | Alison Rosen
The very important and glamorous life I lead
I don’t want you to get me wrong, because my life is a constant whirlwind of soirees and wingdings, I mean I’m really just floating from one fete to another, that is, when I’m not at very crucial conferences and business meetings where we discuss prospectuses (prospecti?) and where we munch on talking points dipped in idea jelly however I have been sitting here for an hour trying to find the motivation to take a shower and I can’t find it. I think my butt and legs have actually become one with this computer chair. Maybe I’ll just roll myself and my new chair shaped lower half into the shower, except that would involve maneuvering around the suitcase which is cutting off the egress and yess, I just used a big word on purpose and jesus motherfucking fuck must the phone ring all the time from people who don’t leave a message? I think they are telemarketers. Anyway, back to how I’m not able to roll past my suitcase—I was reading this thing that said that when you move into a new apartment you should unpack the night you move in or else you’re destined to live among boxes—I am a poignant and quite easy on the eyes illustration of this—but it’s like, unpack your whole apartment? I can’t even unpack my suitcase the night I get home. I used to be able to though. Back when I lived in an apartment that wasn’t cluttered with unpacked crap. See how it’s all connected? I bet if I lived in an apartment where everything was neat and tidy and in its place then I would unpack my suitcase right away and then I would already be showered. God, I gutter at what could have been. I shudder at what could have been? Instead here I am, beached on a computer chair in my own filth, dreaming of an orderly life and wondering if I should have made a joke about egrets up there. The birds. Oh and for those who are upset that I was only on Red Eye for 20 mins last night, thank you for your outpouring of vexation and I’ll be on for the whole hour on May 1. Hopefully I will have showered by then.
Shot from last night's Red Eye
Spoonerism
Red Eye was a blur but I’m pretty sure I meant to say “you besmirched Natalie” and instead said “you besnirched Matalie.” Then I tried to correct myself by saying, “I mean, you besnirched Matalie!”
I am on the plane
Next to a guy whose olfactory je ne se quoi I do not dijon. (Just wanted to say something French…ish.) Oh crap! We have to turn off devices now.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
I'm the kind of person who posts photos like this
Tobey on his little bed with a toy
The best thing I heard last night
I’m not sure this will be amusing to anyone who doesn’t live in Orange County, or even to anyone who does, however it was the kind of crystalline little moment that expresses so very much, including why I moved away:
“We had dinner tonight at Wing Stop. It’s that new place that opened up next to Condom Revolution.”
That said, I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m judging OC, or looking down my nose at it, or harshing its mellow, because my relationship with this place is complex and I’m not sure I really have it figured out. There’s more about me that’s OC than I want to admit, something which I’m aware of now and again when I’m in New York, flashing my fake breasts at everyone. It’s just what I do.
What was I saying? I forget. It’s all very “wherever you go, there you are.”
Except I expect to adopt some kind of new Sun Valley personality while there. I’m not sure what that will be yet.
Sun Valley, Idaho
Does anyone frequent Sun Valley, Idaho? I’m going there for a story next weekend and I’ll have a little bit of time to kill at the beginning, although I plan to spend that time getting lost on the drive from the airport to the hotel. Maybe I’ll fall off the side of a mountain! Anyway, if there’s anything you guys know of that I should make sure check out, let me know.
about prunes
So, I think I owe you my much ballyhooed prune observation, however I worry at this point that it’s been oversold, over ballyhooed, over trumpeted. Can it possibly live up to the expectation? Because this isn’t prune brilliance or prune enlightenment or any sort of shriveled bit of prunevana. It isn’t even a prune epiphany. If it were served over an omelette it might be prunes over my hammy, though. (incidentally, I used to hate puns. what happened?)
But here goes: the other night I’m looking at a can of prunes and the back says,
“For hors d’oevres, stuff a prune with a cheese wedge, a crunchy walnut or a chocolate kiss.”
If you could hear the reaction I had in my head to each suggestion it would sound like “uh huh…. uh-huh, okay… what the fuck?”
When has anyone ever shoved a chocolate kiss in a prune and why would someone ever? To make the prune more exciting? Or the chocolate less?
You know how they say that anything you can think of has been done? So like if you think of some incredibly perverted sex act involving a carrier pigeon, one that probably defies the laws of physics, you just know that someone, somewhere has tried it. The grossest most liquidy and arcane things you can possibly conjur have been tried.
And yet, I just bet no one has ever stuffed a prune with a chocolate kiss. If I’m wrong, I would like to hear about it. All you chocolate prune stuffers, make some noise.
"promoterol"
I think I just heard this word in a commercial for some kind of asthma drug. I may have misheard it, however if it exists (as a made-up word) I think it’s:
a) awesome
b) something PR people should take
c) something publicists run on
d) something publicists run their car on
e) something you could accuse someone of taking if they’re acting too self-promoting
f) like “what the fuck, are you mainlining promoterol?”
g) or “someone took their promoterol…”
h) or, if someone is being overly self-deprecating you could wonder if they FORGOT to take their promoterol!
i) god, possibilities: endless!
q) I’m tired of the alphabet
w) so this guy and I were once talking about what we wanted on our tombstones
k) I’m fighting the urge to make a pepperoni joke
x) and I said “she liked words”
e) and then I added “more than people”
s) I forget what he said
p) I kind of suck
v) I mean, not in general, but just, if you’re having that kind of goth conversation you should really remember what the other person said