Because your ardor for me is matched only by your curiosity, you’re likely wondering what my mornings look like. Well I’ll tell you. Every morning I wake up with the intention of going to the gym before work. Half the time I actually go, even if I end up riding the bike because it’s the one machine I can essentially sleep on while exercising. I call it sleepercizing. The other half of the time I press snooze repeatedly until the window for 1) going to the gym closes 2) taking a shower and washing my hair closes 3) taking a shower and not washing my hair closes 4) taking a shower at all closes. I’m surprised I even change clothes to go to work, and don’t think I haven’t been tempted to just wear pajamas. There was a time when I used to wear make up and look stylish every day at work but that folly is behind me. Plus the more you’re on TV the more it begins to feel like your real life and your real life feels more like downtime and it’s all very confusing. I hope that doesn’t sound as affected as I fear it might. But back to this gym thing. One of my motivators for going in the morning, which is always painful, is to change into my gym clothes and then let myself get back into bed for a little while knowing I’ll really go in 10 minutes but lately I can’t even do that! Anyone have any tips for making themselves workout before work? Share, won’t you?
Author Archive | Alison Rosen
Clip from CW11
Interviews done like this—taped with a producer asking you the questions—are at present my least favorite kind to do. I just prefer live TV or, if it’s taped, I prefer to be hosting. But anyhoo, here I am talking about a story we ran in Time Out. And for those keeping track this was in that few days block where I was wearing this shirt for TV appearances. I’m cyclical… like a mouse.
I love my exterminator
Is this what Eva Braun felt? I’m sorry, that was a terrible joke and I should probably take it down but the heady rush of the exterminator having swept through my apartment has clouded my judgment. I love him! He even smells good, which is probably the smell of rodent poison or something to mask the rodent poison. Anyway, while I’m not entirely confident the problem is solved because I won’t believe it until I don’t see it, I feel substantially better than I did a couple hours ago. I kind of wanted to take a picture of him for the blog, but then something stopped me. Strangely it was the urge to eat through rotten wood, crap in the linen closet and then scurry, squeaking, through a hole one eighth my size while possibly carrying pestilence though I think that’s more folklore than anything. Strange.
And while we’re talking about this I have something unrelated to say. I think it’s funny when people pile on the host of that late night show I do for being so twisted. They’d probably be surprised to know a sweet looking girl in love with her exterminator spawns some of the more twisted material.
Best Bets 8-25-07
Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s 20 degrees hotter in my apartment than outside or maybe it’s that I have about four thousand deadlines in the next few days and all I really want to do is take a nap somewhere sunny, which is really weird since I’m hardly a somewhere sunny kind of person, or maybe it’s the hyper-rodent-vigilance I’m now engaging in round the clock, but I just felt kind of spacey during this morning’s Best Bets and also, apparently something painful crossed my face while talking about the second event. I think I swallowed wrong. Enjoy!
UPDATED: Red Eye 8-23-07, parts 1 and 2
Part 1:
Part 2:
Mousewatch 2007
Dear Mouse,
Please leave my apartment you tiny furry bastard. I was unhappy to find you hanging out brazenly on my stove and slightly disgusted when the sight of me kind of waving my hands in the air and saying “uh….uh…. uh…” while debating whether to try to trap you with an overturned box or hit you with something which I couldn’t really do caused you to slither down into the body of the stove. A braver person than I would have actually lifted up the top of the stove but I couldn’t do it. Instead I decided all my cooking tonight would happen in the microwave even though I’ve lost my appetite. Is that you crawling up my leg? This will be the first of twelve thousand times I wonder that. Anyway, enjoy your stove furlough you horrible horrible pointy faced jerk.
Alison
Links and mice
I’ve been posting quite a bit on the TONYblog. Maybe you want to read my posts over there? I think you do! Here’s today’s 1 Thing. It mentions movies and my inspirational prowess and then here’s a 1 Thing from Wednesday which mentions Brooklyn and Michael Showalter. And then here’s a delightful little post where I busted my coworker for his breakfast trysts. But wait there’s also this one! And surely you love this conversation about mumblecore. And some stuff about Fringe. And a very important You Gonna Eat That with Drew Toal.
Also, unrelated except not to me because everything relates to this: I saw a mouse in my apartment last night. If you were anywhere near me a year ago you know how I named the mice last time around with the hopes that I could convince myself that Chad, Rob and Grover were cute uninvited cohabitants instead of horrible frightening vermin. It didn’t work. Then a professional exterminator “rodent proofed” our apartment which solved the problem and was the best couple hundred and seventy five I could have spent. Well now a year later those whiskered assholes have chewed their way back in apparently. Or one has. He was hanging out near the foot of my bed seemingly surveying a box of beads which was down there too since the mini-move has put the wrong things in the wrong places. I just hope there’s only one of him. Regardless the exterminator is coming out tomorrow morning. I’ll be sitting up all night holding a jar of peanut butter, a wedge of cheese and a giant box. Probably a couple magazines, some triscuits, a paddle-ball, a Chinese finger catcher, a Chinese jump rope, some fortune cookies, a Magic 8-ball, an actual eight-ball, two cans of hairspray and a squeegee too.
Red Eye photos
Oh look, it’s the wave I always do even if I don’t particularly want to:
And here I am looking smarmy:
Watching you watching me
This is actually the second Fran Drescher reference I’ve gotten this week but it’s nice nonetheless. And yes, they do slather you in lip gloss.