You know, in case you were wondering.
Author Archive | Alison Rosen
Hello new people
Watching Red Eye tonight and wondering to yourself, Who is that vixen and what’s she all about? Just say yes, it’s easier that way. Well welcome to my blog, make yourself at home and whatever you do, don’t touch that. Dammit looks what you’ve done!
Anyway, perhaps you are wondering about the New Yorker cartoons? For a history, click here.
And if you want to follow me on Twitter, please do. It’s important to me that I have more followers than like anyone I know, especially Andy.
I vlogged for you
Uncomfortably close up picture of my eyes from New Years
With bonus wrinkles which aren't actually wrinkles but dryness. I think. Unless they're wrinkles.
Uh oh. I think the red eye driver is going the wrong way. Good thing I have such a great sense of direction.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Identity Crisis, part 413
So yet again I’m wondering how I should be labeling myself. I’m wondering this specifically because I’m on Red Eye tonight and they’ve taken to referring to me as a self-professed pop culture expert and contributing editor to Page Six Magazine. And I am both those things but I’m also a blogger, writer and sort of comedian. I mean, I’m funny. Like really fucking funny. Sometimes I look at myself and just laugh and laugh. Sometimes I drink milk and think of something I said and then shoot milk out my nose. Then I drink coke and think about the milk and the coke comes out my nose! Seriously, you should never sit across from me. I’m like Gallagher but with beverages. Also, I’ve never really shot drinks out of my nose. Who does that? So should I be introduced as a blogger and comedian? A writer, blogger and comedian? And fake body language expert.
While in Canada, DJ from Roseanne (ok fine, his name is Michael Fishman) said “so, what are you?” and I hemmed and hawed (note: I’ve never written hawed before. It looks wrong somehow. It looks wrawng) and then Amelie Gillette whose name I’m likely misspelling suggested I be a “fun-dit.”
I liked it until my brain started hearing fun-dip and then I got distracted.
Anyway, yesterday I ran into an editor-in-chief in the bathroom, which is truly my favorite place to run into people I’m slightly intimidated by and she asked me what my plans are for 2009. “Was thinking I’d put on some lip gloss and get the fuck out of here!” I didn’t say. Instead I hemmed and hawed (TWICE in one blog post!)
Maybe I should just put it out there to the universe? That I’d like to one day host my own funny late night talk show that doesn’t have to be late at night and I’d also like to write more cover stories for well-paying national magazines and I’d like to finally master these splenda meringues because sometimes the egg whites aren’t as voluminous as I’d like?
Do I dare say all this?
Oh, also, I’d like to write a book, write comedy and nail the Russian shuffle. (so-called because one card is “rushin‘” right after the other. TRULY! I KID YOU NOT! I WOULD NOT LIE TO YOU!)
I’ve spent more time today on the shuffle than on the book. See, the other night I was watching Red Eye, the one with the BEST OF 2008 segment, which is essentially like googling yourself except less instant feedback and more fast forwarding and I had to put up with the first half which had real guests and stuff. I think the topic was New Year’s resolutions and Clayton Morris mentioned that he wanted to shuffle cards in a cool way and I think Bill maybe said he did too and that reminded me that that was once MY dream. And yet I abandoned it like a newborn in a dumpster. See this blog post for what happened.
But in the years since, the internet has improved when it comes to card shuffling and now I don’t have to settle for magic tricks. So I’m teaching myself how to do this stuff. I’m at about 55 percent at this point, meaning I can shoot cards all around the room and then roll over them with a computer chair.
Also, who can almost do the ribbon spread? I so almost can! And the one-handed fan. But the Russian shuffle is really the piece de resistance. I mean, once you master that bad boy you won’t even mind that you don’t have any dates.
Between this, raising each of my eyebrows individually and blowing spit bubbles off the end of my tongue, how can I fail?
Don't be jealous

Don’t be jealous but I bought a mouse pad that’s ALSO a pad of paper so I can jot down notes while I type and then get ink all over my mouse!
I bought it at Anthropologie, where they also have giant ampersands and where I punched a woman in the head while trying on a coat.
Please recognize me
So it’s come to my attention that my ex-boyfriend who has been featured in some of those A&E Bios that I’ve also been in was recognized by a waiter over the weekend. How do I feel about this? I’m glad I asked. You might think I would be slightly disgruntled that he was recognized and I never am when I’ve literally been on TV 8 million times (no, literally! I counted!) but see, that’s not how I am. I don’t do it for the recognition. I do it for the adulation. Also, all the sex. I can count how many times I’ve been recognized on one hand and not just any hand but a hand that is missing all its fingers and also its thumb. I can count the times on a stump. Does this bother me? Again, you are getting the wrong idea there pal about what’s important to me. The children are important. My hair is important. People thinking highly of me, especially people I don’t know, is important. Being treated slightly better than a regular person. All that is important to me. But having someone lavish praise on me in public? Only some kind of asshole would enjoy that. It’s for this reason that the times that I’ve been standing next to Red Eye guys and they’ll get recognized by someone who goes on to say that they watch the show ALL THE TIME and then I’ll kind of preen and stand there waiting for them to notice me and then it doesn’t happen, and sometimes they’ll actually tell me how great the show is, like informing me about the show in case I don’t know, like I am one of them, instead of one of not them, well I find it incredibly humbling that I can pass for just a regular person. It’s very satisfying.
And just in case you’re thinking that in real life maybe I look different than I do on TV… the above has happened on nights when I’ve done the show. Meaning I look exactly like I do on TV, minus the TV screen around my head which I’m totally going to start wearing. But that’s not the only change I’m going to make:
1) I’m going to don recognizable glasses.
2) I’m going to print up this blog and hand it out at concerts and stick it on windshields under wiper blades
3) I’m going to begin hanging out on Long Island, where people watch A&E Bios and recognize you
4) I’m going to be the best me I can be
5) If it will somehow help me get stuff I want
6) I’m going to try to pretend more that I’m really listening when other people talk but GOD, so hard!
7) I’m going to buy Alleve because I’m almost out
8) I’m going to get to the bottom of the difference between sugar free cherry jello and sugar free black cherry jello because it’s keeping me up at night
9) I’m going to quit lying
10) I never lie
11) shit!
12) I’m going to think more about puppies and ducklings because they’re my favorite
Update: I cleaned
I’m noticing the rug looks all mottled in this photo but it’s just the way the light is hitting it. Also, I didn’t plan to bringing it with me from my last apartment because I don’t really love it however at the last minute I brought it anyway. But I plan to replace it someday.
Unpacking progress
I’ve been twittering about how I don’t want to unpack and how I’m really good at not unpacking but today I finally couldn’t take it anymore so I looked in my suitcase and then sat down and messed around on the internet. But then I returned and decided that it was time to remove the suitcase from the room and put it back where it belongs, in a corner in the kitchen. In order to do this I emptied all the remaining crap out of the suitcase and dumped it on my bed, where it still is.

Now see, you might be thinking that isn’t so bad, however then you look down and to the right and find this pile, which includes a suitcase that’s been sitting there since I went to Canada along with assorted whatthefuckall.

Perhaps I’ll clean all this up today. But I kind of doubt it. I’ve gotten really adept at stepping around it. Well, except for when I tripped over it last night.
The frizz was unspeakable
On New Year’s day I woke up really wanting to go to the DMV, bank and post office, but since it was a national holiday we opted instead to go to the beach and walk around.
We went down to the peninsula and it was really overcast, which I like, even if it’s murder on my hair. MURDER I tell you. Here are some photos.




It was so gray and foggy that it reminded me of The Rescuers



