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Don't be intimidated by my domestic prowess but I'm making a cake! And now if you'll excuse me, my flour is getting gluey.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

it’s so fancy! Thanks to whoever updated it! [UPDATE: THANKS TO KEVIN CARLYLE!] And since wiki pages are living breathing ever evolving things, like, um, uh, errrr,

the internet itself?
one’s hair and fingernails?
sea sponges? but like if sea sponges were ever evolving which I don’t think they are?
palimpsests?
graffiti on a wall?
spaghetti on a plate?

What was I saying? Oh yeah, just that who knows if the page will stay like this but for now it’s neato!

It is strange that after seven years of living on the East Coast I still want to run home to Orange County, CA when I feel sad or disappointed. Strange and inconvenient.

Not that I’m feeling any of these things because my life is so totally gangbusters I hardly have a minute to sit back and rest on my laurels. For that reason I’ve decided to have my entire apartment outfitted in laurels. I was going to have the place redone in trophies but after flopping down on “Best Sportsmanship–Tennis Open 1983” and realizing too late just how sharp those little rackets are, I called up the interior decorator and told her I wanted to stick with the theme of accolades but maybe we needed to find something, well, squishier. It was a shame because I had to send back the couch which was made entirely of small marble Press Club obelisks. I didn’t see any other option.

My relationship with the interior decorator has been a source of some frustration and I do have to say that she was pushing ribbons hard. Ribbons and pennants. I had to slap her around a little because the thing is, when I filled out my comment card upon walking into her store, I circled “no horse or baseball awards.” Sometimes I worry she doesn’t take her job as seriously as I need her to.

Finding a good interior decorator who will outfit your apartment exactly to your liking using only materials meant to celebrate you is more difficult that you’d realize and if you aren’t careful you’ll come home to a roomful of streamers. I could hire monkeys to hang streamers. I know this because once I hired monkeys to hang streamers.

And you know what else? I thank you not to hit a going out of business party store to pick up the materials with which to decorate my apartment because if I come home and it looks like Uncle Sam puked all over my lanai, I’m going to know you looted the July 4 bargain bin.

Yes, I have a lanai. It’s where the parrots live. I think we’ve been through this.

Have we not been through this? I have a small aviary which I inherited from Fred Audubon, no relation. Fred and I interned together on the U.S.S. U.S.S. It was a ship with a not very creative name which was ironic because there was a lot of creativity aboard that vessel. Between my glitter glue and Fred’s pinking shears, well, let’s just say no piece of construction paper was safe around the two of us!

Anyway, I fear I’ve said too much and I’m expecting a shipment of laurel throw pillows any minute now.

Funny enough to be listed on the NYC Comic Blogroll on comedy news site The Apiary. Yay for me!

I had a scare this morning! See, I’m currently the proud owner of alisonmrosen.com, alisonrosen.com, alisonmrosen.net and alisonrosen.net. I’ve owned these for nigh on a year? A couple years? And every now and then I think I’ll do some fancy, um, back end work and make it so one of these hosts this very blog. I set up the CNAME and everything. So this morning I go to try it again and it saves settings successfully and then I type in this very blog’s address and it gives me a redirect page and I click yes and then it goes to a godaddy page… NOT MY BLOG. Do you know how much traffic I lost in that split second when the blog wasn’t there? Untold ones or twos! I’m dealing with huge numbers here, people. I can’t be offline!

But seriously, it’s as if I disappeared. It was like in Back to the Future when the photo got blurry.

So then I freaked out and yelled Hail Mary (note: did not yell Hail Mary) and then reverted to the original settings. Did I just click REVERT? NO! Because there isn’t a revert button. I retyped the old blogspot stuff in there and thankfully my blog came back to me. To us.

Anyway, I’m sure this is so super duper easy that one of you web experts can explain what I’m doing wrong? And how to avoid being offline for any period of time?

Call me ecentric but when I buy a carton of eggs I like to make sure to bang into stuff on the way home, like walls or shrubbery or fences, so as to save precious scrambling time later.

I missed you guys and felt like it had been too long since we’d talked. Vlogs forthcoming!

In New York there is a special kind of asshole who takes a cab when it rains and tonight that asshole is me. This blog post? Written from the back of a cab. But I’m not just a cab-in-the-rain taking asshole because as I write this my jeans are stuffed into my uggs (and the fact that I even am wearing uggs is a whole other topic) but anyway they are stuffed in there and kind of poofing over the top in a way that suggests I might beg for porridge and then break into song. Also, it’s as if each leg has its own wee muffin top.

You should know that I took the train to the place I had to be today, so I’m only half an asshole, and the walk there was miserable times a million. I nearly lost my hand from frost and then when I got to the place I tried to take my coat off but I had no feeling in my hand and I was too impatient for my body to remind itself that I’m alive so I accidentally pulled the coat open and ripped the button off, Superman style. Apparently without feeling in my fingers I possess Herculean strength. Then I flipped over a couple of cars and got to work.

I feel mentally out of breath which is a strange sensation since I’m not new to thinking, thoughts or stress, but the thing about taking the online Jeopardy quiz, which you have to take to be considered to be a contestant on the show, and let me just throw out there that I’m not even entirely sure I’d be eligible since I’m on TV however I don’t think I appear in any way that excludes me, aaaanyway, the thing about the quiz is there’s a second hand counting down each answer and there’s a giant Alex Trebeck sitting motionless on your computer and then there’s also theme music at the beginning and the end.

And how did I do? I have no idea and I’ll never find out, the web site makes that pretty clear, but I know I got a few of the more obvious questions wrong and a few of the more obscure ones right.

Goddamn you Simon Legree and Tospy, which book are you from?

And why oh why did I not write which president was in office in 1812 when it turns out my guess was correct?

And let’s not begin to talk about the House of Representatives shall we?

Or that thing about Mozart and the planet or the smallest great lake or the peak in the Alps or, um, the midwest state whose postal code is a preposition.

Am I ruining my chances by blogging this? Am I not supposed to repeat it? No one told me anything. I need direction, Alex!

Yeah. So clearly I probably won’t be appearing on Jeopardy. Although there were 50 questions so maybe I did better than this blog post would suggest. Might I say that I kick ass at rhyme time? Totally got that one right.

Me: Should I post my conversations with you, magic 8 ball?
Magic 8 ball: Very Doubtful

Great, just what I need. A bashful magic 8 ball.