The editing in this video isn’t amazing. I’ll have to bring that up to my videographer whose name is Alison Rosen but clearly it’s some other Alison Rosen, not this one, because this one is far too busy being important. (Also, yes, Greg had something on his face. It was makeup from a joke about Red Eye now broadcasting in HD.)
Archive | Red Eye
Couple shots from last night
Another clip from last night's Red Eye
Clip from last night's Red Eye
(note: Yes, Greg had something on his face. It related to a “now broadcasting in HD” joke at the beginning of the show. And note the way I did not say “top” of the show. I think it’s pretentious to use industry lingo when talking to the demo. You know? Roger that.)
A couple shots from The Activity Pit (courtesy of Malone's caps)
me me me me me me me me me me me me me (sometimes I just like to say what I’m thinking and feeling)
The morning after
Pitcher of appletinis (above)
Another pitcher, above, in case you didn’t get the joke and need me to beat it into the ground
appletinis being poured into the bottom of what appears to be a giant tennis shoe
appletinis for your car
So how do I feel about last night’s appletini, you are likely wondering? I deeply regret it. Not for physical reasons—I feel fine, if a little chagrined/horrified—but for matters of self-respect. Do I think I’m better than people who drink appletinis? Pretty much, yes. Appletinis are the drink equivalent of “okay dokey smokey” or “okeley dokely” or “easy peasy japanesey” (no offense to the Pacific Rim) or “right on” or maybe “sweeeeeet” in that you say them making fun of them and then one day you wake up and they’ve actually wormed their way into your vocabulary in earnest and also, you’re that asshole drinking an appletini—which started as a joke because it sounds funny—but man if it doesn’t go down easy peasy. [Note: no one actually adds “japanesey,” that was just for effect.]
Okay, I have to be honest: I never said “okay dokey smokey,” but I did have a problem with “okay dokey.” I think my sister the plant-name stealer did too. I’m reminded of one of my favorite stories, courtesy of one Steve Lowery, who had taken to saying “nighty night” to his kids and heard himself end an interview with a sports legend that way. I forget who the sports legend was of course, because I don’t know sports. Um, Mr. Pigskin? Sherman Bleachers? Doug Dugout? You see what’s happening don’t you? I’ve lost my sense of humor. This is kind of tragic actually, because I was counting on it for the weekend.
Also, I miss the big hair. It had kind of grown on me, literally! And without it I looked so smushed headed and dare I say fat-faced, because (shall I let you behind the curtain? okay then!) whilst in California I got my hair straightened (just the roots or the “regrowth” as it’s called in straightening circles), which is a little thing I do like having my personal assistants shot, for those of you reading all the posts, which results in flat hair (the straightening, not the assistant shooting). It’s why, I think, it poofed up so much the time before last (like poofed up in between when it was styled and when I went on air) and why, since they didn’t want it as big last night, it was kind of stuck to my head. That didn’t make much sense to you did it? My sense of humor along with ability to explain myself have been replaced with a swirling appletini. Let me try again: In its now unnatural natural state, my hair is quite flat. Because the texture is especially fine, it responded extremely well to the poofing last time, so much so that the walk to the newsroom kind of inflated it. Last night though, I think there was less poofing than usual, thus it was stuck to my head. Oh my God, who cares! I’m not even reading this anymore! I mean, seriously. Shall we take a look?
Delightfully big!
Robust!
pequeno
Did I mention I like to lapse into Spanish when talking about my hair?
Thanks Spaceagent!
The best way to wake up in Idaho is to a crossword puzzle that someone made about you that’s posted on The Activity Pit! (Does that make it sound like I really love myself? Probably!) Anyway, here it is. Spaceagent, I am impressed with your crafty know-how. And you derring-do. Not really about your derring-do. I’ve just never used those words and now seemed like a good time.
An Alison Crossword Puzzle!
What could be more fun that a crossword puzzle based on our favorite Red Eye guest? If you’re a faithful reader of Alison’s blog, you should be able to get most of the answers pretty quickly. If you’re having trouble, you’d better go to her blog and start reading!!
I’ve left a few letters in the puzzle to make it a little bit easier. Enjoy!
Shot from last night's Red Eye
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.
Wanting to worship me and needing an online place to do it?
I bet you were. Well the awesome people at The Activity Pit made a fan group for me! This is officially my first online fan group! Sure, there’s been quite a bit of online chatter about me and yes, I am inundated with emails and comments and okay, perhaps it’s hard for me to go outside because I am mobbed by people who just want a piece of me because they think they know me even if they don’t—it’s just that I have that kind of effect on them—but this is the first online fan group and I don’t know what to say except I swear that I had no hand in this. Truly! So for all you people that think I suck it, now YOU can suck it because I have an online fan group and I’m fairly sure that you don’t, la la la!
Wait, was that obnoxious? Also, I’d like to thank Jesus Christ and my mom and my agent and my agent’s mom and Chad Lowe.
In a word, this experience has been “humbling.” Also, it’s making me cocky.