I am at the airport. All my bags are overstuffed. Everytime I open a bag, things fall out. I got into the car this morning and realized I'd somehow lost my cell phone on the way from my apartment to the door. This caused a panic not unlike what I imagine would be the feeling of realizing you left your child sitting in a carseat on the top of the car. I'm ashamed of the intensity of the anguish this caused me, but anyway I went back and my phone was sitting on top of the mailboxes…of course (?) Anyway, all this is to say that I feel like a modern version of those 'loose leaf losers' from the trapper keeper commercials. Does anyone know what I'm talking about? No, you're too young, forget it! Also while we're talking school supplies did you know that pee-chee folders were only west coast? West of the rockies actually, I think. That was a special day at time out when we made that discovery. Days, really, because I think I milked it for all the entertainment and sleuthery possible. Yes I know it's not a word. There is an alarm going off. My ears are being assaulted. Not unlike when my sister walked into the bathroom last night and asked what 'that funky smell' was. It was my new jeans, assaulting her nose. They smelled like they'd been dark rinsed in sulphur. I think the rain brought it out more. (They were drying in the shower, which seems counter intuitive.) Also, on the way here I passed the unfortunately named 'Ariola Realty.' A less mature person would have tittered.
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Author Archive | Alison Rosen
My bite has been damned with faint praise
Reblogged from The Activity Pit:
Alison’s Beauty Secrets
Whatever the occasion, Alison always manages to look her best despite living a busy cosmopolitan lifestyle. How does she do it? Blessed with natural beauty, are there other steps she takes to enhance her appearance?
Below is an analysis revealing Alison’s beauty secrets.
Look, Spaceagent, if that’s your real fake name, I suffered 4 years of braces and the best you can say is that I have “normal” jaw occlusion? You WISH you occluded so well.
(I’m kidding. I’m flattered that you think I have no open sores.)
Things I would rather do than clean my room
1. Stare at the mess
2. Write a blog post in list form
c. Entertain myself by going back and forth between numbers and letters
IV. Okay, now that’s going too far.
V. I said too far. Roman numeral humor is only funny to marble statues.
6. Listen to music (New Pornographers right now)
7. But I could totally clean while listening to music. That was the original plan.
8. To be fair, I did clean off my desk.
9. But some of it just got relocated to my bed.
10. Did I ever tell you that after college I slept for a number of months on a bed with a drawer full of crap sitting on one corner of the bed? It’s because we took the drawer out of the desk to make room for a filing cabinet or something, and didn’t have anywhere to put the drawer, so I set it on the bed and just learned to work around it. Also, at this time I had one of those wooden duck phones a la Silver Spoons that quacked when it rang—also its eyes lit up— but it didn’t sound like a duck. It sounded like Satan. It was really terrible. Anyway, I remember I was talking on the duck phone, sitting on the bed with the drawer nearby, setting up an interview for Rolling Stone or something and anyway I remember Wendy visited me that day and she said “Do you think anyone, when they’re talking to you, pictures you working in this environment?”
11. Okay, she didn’t say “environment” but that was the gist. And no, I don’t think they realized. I also don’t think people knew how young I was when I started. Except that I was really nice/eager, which gets beaten out of you quick.
12. Not me, I’m still nice/eager, except when I’m a total hardened bitch, but I mean, it gets beaten out of you.
13. No drawer on my bed today though. So you see: progress.
14. I’ve been in better moods.
15. I’ve also been in worse.
16. I have a lot of cords. And a lot of little thingies that I doubt I’ll ever use. Like do I need these various international plugs for my blackberry charger? I don’t think so. But it’s not like I can just throw them out, you know? Because you know what happens when you throw them out? You wake up in Paris without a cell phone cursing the last time you cleaned your room. Not making THAT mistake again.
17. I met Mo Rocca this morning. I was having a breakfast meeting, because that’s how I do, and the guy I was meeting knew Mo Rocca and anyway I was introduced and I said “I’m a fan,” because I am, and Mo seemed genuinely touched at my fandom. At my fanship? It’s interesting because were I Mo I would probably say something like “As well you should be” or something equally obnoxious.
18. Actually, that’s not true. Sometimes I say stuff like “Oh my Gosh, thanks!” but then this one time I got trapped at a party by someone who told me I was funny and I said “Oh my Gosh, thanks!” and then the person was like “what, are you surprised to find out you’re funny? you sound like you don’t think you are!”
19. It was an aggressive sort of complementary encounter.
20. I know I’m funny.
21. Perhaps not in this list.
22. The music stopped.
23. Mess still messy.
24. But I do feel we’ve gotten to know each other a bit better.
25. Don’t you?
26. Sorry, can’t hear you, thinking about myself again.
27. My sister had a barking dog phone, which also didn’t sound like a dog. When the phone rang in that house, it sounded like the caterwauling of the undead.
28. If the undead sounded vaguely like a dog and a duck.
29. The title of this post makes me sound 14.
30. Which is cool. Young is in.
31. Okay, I should really find new procrastination music.
new money
Ironically, my first thought upon receiving the new five dollar bill with its eggplant hued frippery was, “Is this counterfeit?”
Branding potential
I thought it might be time to update some trusty old saws. Where others see conventional wisdom, I see branding potential:
Don’t tread on me… unless you’re wearing this season’s stylish loafers from Payless.
A stitch in time saves nine… but wouldn’t you rather save ten or even twenty, while supplies last?
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. And the tomatoes growing on that tree must be protected with Spectracide Tomato and Vegetable Insect Spray.
Look before you leap… into high blood pressure with Heart Smart Spray Margarine.
Hope is the thing with feathers… but dust mites are those things with microscopic teeth that gnaw at your pillows and sheets while you and your family are sleeping.
I want one of these (warning: Joel Stein ahead)
I remember running into people in the elevator of the building that houses the Time Out NEw York offices and they recognized me from TV and were surprised that I actually had to work real office hours, as if all I did to earn the small bucks was wake up early and go on TV. They were savvy.
What I'm doing when I'm not on Red Eye
People have been asking me when I’m going to be on Red Eye next—the answer is April 15—which then begs the question of what I’ll be doing until then.
I cannot lie to you: I’ve decided to have some work done.
I’m getting my teeth dyed sun yellow, because yellow is a happy color and who doesn’t like the sun? I wish I could say I’m stopping with my sun yellow teeth but the thing is that getting work done is addictive and empowering and I’ve been living with this face and body for 32, I mean 24 years. I’m ready to really embrace my true self by changing everything.
I’m not rushing into it though. I’ve been slowly but surely clipping pictures from magazines of the features I’d most like to have. I plan on taking these pictures with me to the doctor and asking him to attach them to my face. I’m picturing something that will be like a cross between a mosaic and papier mache, which is pronounced paper muhshay despite how it’s spelled.
As for my body, I’m going to need a new one to match my exciting new face, so I’ve decided to have implants the size of chicken cutlets—okay fine, they’re just chicken cutlets—glued to my problem areas. I’ve requested they be glued with honey mustard, because that really makes the most sense, but I’m not sure that’s feasible at this time. It’s a crude science, despite how advanced it is. While I’m there I’ll probably have some junk injected into my junk and then I imagine the doctor will draw all over me with magic marker. I’ve requested he draw a landscape scene—preferably a cityscape or a beach scene. Something bucolic. Nothing too gritty. I get enough realism watching the news, thank you very much!!!!!!! (Am I right????????????)
And I’m toying with the idea of getting my stomach stapled—to my socks. I’m just super into the idea of internal organs as outerwear.
What about concerns?
I just walked past a guy who was saying “no worries” so many times in the course of his conversation I wanted to stop him and ask if there were any worries.
Hot Seat with David Schwimmer
Click on the image to read it. Or click here.
But wait, after you read that you’re probably going to want to look at those photos of me interviewing him at the Apple Store. Do I know you, or do I know you? Look at me, deep-linking!
Adorable Tobey, less adorable green cabinets
