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Author Archive | Alison Rosen

Tropic Thunder and boots

Today I had a four hour break in the middle of the day which is considerably more annoying now that I'm living in Brooklyn and can't go home to fuck around. Well, I mean I can, but it just didn't seem like the best use of time. I was going to go to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy an over the door towel rack and some garbage cans but instead I went to the movies and then bought a pair of shoes. I plan to hang my towel on the movie stub and throw my trash in my shoes. The left will be for mixed cardboard and the right for orange peels and coffee grounds. Basically I'm going to compost in my right shoe. You're welcome, planet Earth.
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Here are some photos

I’ve been meaning to ask someone to get a shot of me in action but I haven’t yet. Instead I have a camera full of shots of the rooftop and also of shots of myself that I took myself, because sometimes that’s what I do.


The rain was no friend of my hair today. Here I am trying to do something about it.


Here’s the stage yesterday.


Here’s the inside space.


Here’s me, waiting to film a ridiculous clip which I’d tell you about but I don’t want to ruin the sight gag-y surprise.


Here’s where we work.


Here’s the mound with the dimples at night.


Here’s me all close up and stuff.

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I love Marc Kushner

Marc Kushner and Mattias Hollwich are the architects who designed the rooftop where I'm doing these segments until the thirteenth and I love both of them equally even though typically I don't like architects with the exception of Elise Keaton from Family Ties but I love Marc Kushner a little more because he told me where to catch a cab in Brooklyn so now I don't have to give all my money to a car service. Instead I can give it all to yellow cab! Hooray!

But really, I should get back on the train. And I plan to. But carrying all this crap isn't conducive to commuting by train not to mention the fact that the rooftop is nowhere near the train. Know what it's near? Time Out New York which I used to just walk to because walking forty or so blocks seemed easier than taking the train. That was before I lived in Brooklyn though. Anyway I'm worried about the integrity of my hair today what with Hugo. Hannah? Horatio? What's the name of this hurricane? Also I keep triping on my own pants while walking down the stairs and I'm afraid I'm going to take an embarrassing spill. Also, this cab driver is talking too loudly on the phone.

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Day two

I'm in a hotel room near the rooftop, taking a break and watching the news. In between moving and mini-ing, I feel like I have no idea what's going on in the world. Unless of course you are a news show producer who'd like me to speak about something in which case, I'm so plugged in it's not even funny. Today is day two of the event. It's refreshingly windy up there. Some chairs blew off the stage. Oh, blind item! Last night I overheard someone saying, about a performer, "Is he still throwing stuff?" I'd say more but I might get in trouble with management. That's a hint.

So we put together a few more videos. I'm not sure if they're up yet. I haven't actually seen them though I've seen snippets but I can't seem to push my way in there enough to watch. But people keep saying "you're quite funny" and a couple German people winked at me, so that's good. Speaking of German, I think if I could speak it I'd have a much better idea of what the editors think of the videos so far. Also, I'm officially tired of walking back and forth from one end of my apartment to another looking for stuff. I need a personal assistant who knows which box I put everything in. And I need someone on scissor detail because I keep misplacing them. And I also need a hair and makeup person because I'm tired of doing it myself. That's precious sleep time! And I suppose I wouldn't be averse to someone sponge bathing me, running my errands and chauffeuring me around. Oh, and if you could also buy me a bath mat and a couch, that would be excellent.

Swingtown is on tonight! Thank god I have my DVR set up.

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Day one

"We're all tired but you're the only one who can't show it." Eric to me, after a particularly lackluster take.

Now I'm in a cab on the way home after what felt like a really long day. There's traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. I have a headache and my feet kill. On the upside I found my lingerie tape so now if I'm worried about my shirt popping open or sliding around I can surreptitiously tape that sucker to my flesh, which is what I did.
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