I’m reading Jim Norton’s first book, Happy Endings, which is great, and I have allergies, however when these things unknowingly come together on a small table it just looks wrong.
Archive | photos
Every photo I've uploaded to this blog
So evidently every photo I’ve ever uploaded to this blog is available in a photo album. I’m trying to figure out where to put this permanently on the blog. You know, trying to figure out what kind of blog real estate to give it. The real estate market is at an all time low though, so I’m thinking I might give it five row houses and a storefront. I’ll likely give it the worst set of five row houses plus storefront on the best block, as opposed to the alternative, because I hear that’s what you’re supposed to do.
Oh and by the way the breakdown is roughly:
photos of me from TV: buttloads!
photos of animals: not saying there aren’t any
photos of ducklings specifically: totes
photos of me playing guitar thus proving I was in a band. Hey, did I mention I was in a band: a goodly number
photos of the beach: a smattering
On the Red Eye set
Sometimes they put me in the studio as opposed to the newsroom. I always try to do something completely inappropriate like lick the tabletop before leaving so it never happens again. Also, this sweater was too big and fit weird and I was kind of hating that I wore it though I like the color.
Me shooting Anna shooting me
wait, actually it should be “Anna shooting me shooting Anna”
Some shots from Wednesday night's Red Eye
Photos I found on my mom's computer
More photos of me? If you insist. I was on my mom’s computer looking for porn (note: not looking for porn) when I found these photos that I must have put on there when they were emailed to me and I was using her computer and etcetera. Plus, since Anna David posted on the Activity Pit that she wasn’t afraid to trot out some Alison Rosen material and then Joe asked for some baby pictures I thought I might beat them to the punch. Not that they actually have access to my baby photos, but you know. So, shall we?
Here I am taking a nap before the dawn of color photography. This actually is a daguerreotype.
And here I am wearing a bandanna on my head after a hard day of child labor. Also, my older brothers enjoyed dressing me up in ridiculous get ups and I’m thinking this was one of them.
Here I am hanging out with my older brother Josh. He’s so totally imitating me here but that’s Josh, always trying to do what I do.
Here I am many years later playing in The Angoras. Yes, I know my legs look fat here.
Here I am being tuff with the band, hanging out on a car. That’s the kind of outlaw shit we did in OC. We didn’t even play instruments, just hung out on fully-hotrodded titz rides. In fact, I’m surprised there aren’t any flames on the side of this vehicle. There’s very unusual.
Here we are on tour after I’d clearly made some kind of hugely embarrassing admission.
See how tuff we were? By the way, if you own this cassette it’s totally worth the cost of a used cassette right now.
Here I am holding a baby. Come and get it quick men, I think I just ovulated. Oh and if you happen to click on this photo let me say right now that I don’t know what’s up with my eyebrow. I must have shaved it like that in prison. [update: maybe this isn’t the photo but there’s a photo of me like this where it looks like there’s a Vanilla Ice-style notch missing from my eyebrow, hence the explanation. The unnecessary explanation.]
And here’s my sister and me just hanging out. This was probably the last time I had a tan and wore a tank top. Actually, I’ll have you know that’s not just any tank top, it’s Wonder Woman Underoos.
From back when I was accidentally goth
So back in the day people used to always think I was goth and I never understood why. “Just because I have black hair doesn’t mean I’m goth!” I’d exclaim, frustrated by the crappy follicular hand I’d been dealt. Hadn’t these people ever seen someone with fair skin and black hair? I didn’t even listen to goth music! “Don’t put me in your little box!” I’d yell before repairing to the bathroom to cut myself and write in my journal.
Well I just found this photo:
I think I understand now.
But since I’m taking a Christmasy dip in Lake Me, here’s another gothy shot from the same time. Mind you I’m not even posting photos from when I played in a band because they would blow my whole argument to hell I think.
How I take cough syrup
[A word about what I’m wearing: Sometimes I like to put on everything I get for Xmas as I get it, hence the necklace with tags. Also, I like to tie bows around my head as I’m opening. Also, I’m not wearing any makeup in these photos, and how!]
HOW I TAKE COUGH SYRUP
1) First I pour it in a spoon.
2) Next, I swallow it.
3) Then I freak out.
At the airport
And no, I’m not one of those people who wears my watch with the face on the inside of my wrist. It just tends to flip around.
More shots from The Strategy Room
These shots are also from Joe via The Activity Pit. I’m a lousy thief.
In the above shot I’m clearly making some kind of point. I fear it may have been the one involving my desire as a child to have pet pygmy marmosets because I saw a picture of them in the Guinness Book of World Records and how my parents suggested I write Joan Embery to see if this was feasible. It wasn’t.
Here’s the photo I mentioned.
And then here I am not making a point.
And then here’s a Santa potato head.
Here we are laughing at something.
Here’s Bill Schulz. Want to know what kind of friend he is? He’s the kind of friend who, when I said at the beginning of the show that I’m a frequent guest on Red Eye, acted as if he’d never seen me before. Thank God he’s a horrible actor.
And then something happened here.
And then somehow Charlie’s Angels was mentioned and then Jill Dobson and Melanie Notkin made the above gestures and then Jill said “come on Alison!” and then, even though I pride myself on having never taken a photo wherein two gal pals and I are pretending to be Charlie’s Angels, I lamely tried to mimic what they were doing so as to seem fun and sporty and easygoing. If the above photo could speak it would say “hey guys? is this what we’re doing? guys? am I doing it right?” And then it would laugh nervously.
Here I am posing with a menorah, apparently. I didn’t see this behind my head until I saw these photos. And what is my hair doing here? It can’t decide if it’s going behind my shoulder or in front. It figures that even my hair is indecisive. Also, I celebrate Christmas for those keeping track. I know it’s confusing.