Tomorrow I’m doing a brand new episode of Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend even though I was tempted not to do one, but I can’t deprive you of me. It’s just not fair. Because it’s so late in the day I’m not sending out Facebook invites yet again because they won’t get there in time. Instead I’ll be knocking on each of your doors individually later on today and I’ll be expecting you to invite me in for a light snack. Nothing fancy, just make sure it’s something you would serve royalty. There’s a chance I may need to use your bathroom so please see to it that you’ve cleaned it top to bottom and inside and out and put out the finest hand-milled French soap. And when I say hand-milled I expect you to mill it yourself. If you don’t know how, this is no time to learn. Just call your local neighborhood miller and find out if they do soap, in addition to whatever millers do. Anyone? I know I read the Miller’s Tale in college in my Chaucer class but that information has long ago been replaced with other stuff. What kind of stuff? Let’s discuss that over caviar when I drop in for an informal formal visit.
In other news, it’s hot but not TOO hot in New York so you can breathe a sigh of relief if you were wondering how I was coping. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer cold weather, but it’s not so hot that I want to die.
Actually, come to think of it, sleeping in this weather is kind of difficult, which is why I look so sleepy and also AM so sleepy.
How sleepy am I? Very. You would definitely not want me driving your heavy machinery unless it happened to be air conditioned and then we could talk.
Anyway, I have a lot of things to say but I can’t say them because of the Marvin gag order but just you wait, internet, because a flood of stuff is all bottled up in here.
That sounded kind of menacing, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it to.
In fact right now I feel kind of estranged from words, which are my favorite things in the world right up there with ducklings and puppies, and it’s a fairly shitty feeling and it’s contributing to this amorphous directionless blob feeling I’m having.
I have half a mind to just delete this entire post but I have another half a mind to not and then another half a mind which is just thinking about TV shows. It’s a wonder I can fit into hats.
In addition to being estranged from words apparently I’m also estranged from jokes.
Imagine if you are in a war suddenly and it suddenly gives your life shape and meaning, especially if maybe before the war you were struggling a bit in your chosen profession and wondering if it wasn’t time to shake things up but not knowing exactly how. So just when you were considering a massive shakeup along comes a crisis which happens to be a war and so you ship off and you’re dealing with war stuff every single day from the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, which is not enough by the way, and you know this war is going to change your life but a little bit you’re aware that there’s maybe something opportunistic in the way you’re throwing yourself into your new war duties because you needed something to throw yourself into. At the same time it’s a blessing you were able to ship off at that moment, because the war effort wouldn’t have been the same without you. So then let’s say that particular battle is dying down and you’re debating whether to stay on for the rest of the war, or to return home, where things are less dramatic and poignant and ratcheted up. But see, if you return home the war will still be waged across the country and you feel wrong not being there. But you’re also aware there’s a very good chance you’ll join the war and put the rest of your life on hold which would be a mistake even if it’s easy.
Not that any of this is easy.
In the midst of writing the above I lost track of all the metaphors. I guess what I’m trying to say is hard shit is happening across the country and I feel weird being here and I feel weird being there. I just feel weird. And also sleepy.
The end.
I know how you feel
you do?
I feel compelled to say that I love you and you are not alone. I also know how you feel, though my similar situation has passed long ago.
My grandmother, you see, had cancer. She beat the cancer but several years later, it reappeared, and in fighting it again, the drugs she had been given weakened her heart and she passed away. This was hard for me but her being my grandmother, I had long ago prepared myself for the possibility of life without her, however, my grandfather had not had that preparation. He was devastated and spent almost a year in his chair in front of the TV, doing nothing.
This lack of activity had caused some blood clots to form in his legs, and his doctor ordered him to exercise. The person running the exercise class was a woman named Barbara Rosen (ironic? perhaps). She had just lost her husband and that fact brought these two together – they became great friends, and started dating (which was really weird for me to accept because my grandparent’s marriage lasted more than 50 years, which is a long time). My grandfather married Barbara and they are both very happy.
I think the moral of my story is that you never know what good things may come from bad things, but I could be wrong… either way I hope this serves you as a big bear hug of words, because that’s what I wanted to give you (a hug).
Looking forward to your show on Sunday. Have missed seeing you with the NYC crew!
I know how you feel
you do?
I feel compelled to say that I love you and you are not alone. I also know how you feel, though my similar situation has passed long ago.
My grandmother, you see, had cancer. She beat the cancer but several years later, it reappeared, and in fighting it again, the drugs she had been given weakened her heart and she passed away. This was hard for me but her being my grandmother, I had long ago prepared myself for the possibility of life without her, however, my grandfather had not had that preparation. He was devastated and spent almost a year in his chair in front of the TV, doing nothing.
This lack of activity had caused some blood clots to form in his legs, and his doctor ordered him to exercise. The person running the exercise class was a woman named Barbara Rosen (ironic? perhaps). She had just lost her husband and that fact brought these two together – they became great friends, and started dating (which was really weird for me to accept because my grandparent’s marriage lasted more than 50 years, which is a long time). My grandfather married Barbara and they are both very happy.
I think the moral of my story is that you never know what good things may come from bad things, but I could be wrong… either way I hope this serves you as a big bear hug of words, because that's what I wanted to give you (a hug).
Looking forward to your show on Sunday. Have missed seeing you with the NYC crew!