As I’ve said before, for some reason I don’t like to blog about search terms however every now and then they’re just too good to keep to myself, like a pair of freakishly large breast implants or cockapoo lesbians, which are a couple of the terms recently used to reach my blog. Also, it appears that a number of people are trying to get to Fox & Friends’ Alisyn Camerota but finding me instead so to them I’d like to say: might I interest you in a pair of freakishly large breast implants or cockapoo lesbians? I’d also like to say that while I’m not she, I’ve met her more than once and even hung out with her and her husband at a bar/restaurant, how jealous are you? Very, I imagine.
Author Archive | Alison Rosen
Woohoo, Friday night!
Swingtown was so good tonight I can’t handle it! Did anyone else watch? I’m really the only person watching this show, aren’t I? Also, the news story about the heartless cop who stopped a couple who were rushing their choking poodle to the vet and who wouldn’t let them go while their dog was dying in the backseat is putting a strain on my swollen tear ducts. And lastly, I had this conversation with my dad:
My dad: Your fans are so nice!
Me: I know! SO nice!
My dad: I love them!
And now I’m going to go to sleep and wake up in about fifteen hours. If anyone asks, I had a wild and crazy Friday night that involved interactions with fellow human beings in loud places. I probably busted a move or two.
Clips from beginning of yesterday's Paltalk show
You guys are the best!
Thanks for making this button, Ted! If I had a binder, I would put this on it. And really, thank you all for the really nice comments. Sometimes this blog is better than a puppy! (Imagine if I had this blog AND a puppy?! I would be showered with affection from all sides. So very tempting.)
A shot from Red Eye last night
Usually when I’m on TV I’m able to escape completely from all the stuff gnawing at me in real life and just go into performer mode, which I think is why I like it so much, but last night for some reason I couldn’t get away from anything and so I just felt a little weird the whole night. Not sure how apparent it was, but you can kind of see it in this photo.
And then I beat myself up because I feel like if I were a TRUE professional I should be able to get past anything that might be weighing on me. I mean, not to be ghoulish, but I went on TV the night after I found out my grandma died and it provided a welcome distraction.
Anyway, yeah. I want to live in a safe little TV bubble but last night dumb things—inconsequential things really—were intruding!
See me on Paltalk this morning
I’m doing Diana Falzone’s Paltalk internet show this morning at 11am. I’m also so tired I’m kind of… tired! Hopefully my facility with language as evidenced in that previous sentence will carry me through the interview. My faculty with language? Huh? Anyway, get more info here.
Apparently I'm not the dinner partying kind
So I was talking to my mom earlier on the phone about apartments and I was saying that one was so small it was more like a dorm room than an apartment and you wouldn’t want to have people over and she was asking if you wouldn’t be able to have anyone over, not even one person, and I was saying that you could have one person over but you’d never want to have a dinner party.
At that point she kind of scoffed and chortled, she scfortled, as if I am not the dinner party type. I am SO the dinner party type and the fact that she can’t see my inner casserole dish and the oil and vinegar cruets behind my eyes—well that kind of hurts. If you stab me with a dinner fork do I not bleed? If you shove little corn poker things onto the ends of ears of corn does it not make them cuter? (it does! and easier to eat! not that I’ve had corn in a million years, but that’s beside the point)
Anyway, just because I haven’t entertained in a zillion years and just because I wouldn’t know human companionship if it came up and bit me on my agoraphobic tushy does not mean that I don’t know how to throw a fun fest for a few fancy friends.
And to prove it, I thought I’d detail the itinerary:
First my guests would arrive and we’d chit chat while assembling my furniture. Then we’d eat pretzels. Then we’d play dress up. Then we’d skip rocks. Then we’d take a nap. Then we’d help me lift heavy things and change any bulbs that are out that I can’t reach. Then we’d play sardines. Then I’d sing a song for everyone. Then we’d make a toast. Then we’d have quiet time where you could read or nap or color or play with stickers. Then we’d go miniature golfing or roller skating, I haven’t decided. Then we’d probably go out to dinner. Then we’d watch a movie on my home movie theater. Then we’d take funny photos. Then the shuttle would come to take everyone home.
See? I know dinner parties!
TGIWT
My dad has informed me that he agrees with the commenter who said it’s always confusing when I say I’m going to be on Red Eye on a Wednesday night because does that mean Tues/Wed or Wed/Thurs? In this case it means Wed/Thurs!
TV; love
Is it wrong to want to enter “The Roast of Bob Saget” into my Blackberry calendar? I mean, I just don’t want to forget to watch, which is funny for two reasons. 1) From whence springs this sudden anxiety over missing strange appointment television? 2) Comedy Central only replays things eight million times a week. I could forget to watch and then find it later the same night. 3) Have I mentioned I love Swingtown? I do. 4) That was three things but the third had nothing to do with the first two. 5) See, I think the reason I like Swingtown so much is that despite the fact that it’s about swinging sort of—or about couples figuring out how to define their relationships—the writers of the show and I share some common conceptions of what love is based on two things that characters on the show have said. A therapist on the show said, “When respect goes, love goes,” or something to that effect, which I agree with. Also, one of the characters said something like “They say that love happens when someone sees you as you see yourself.” It’s for this reason that I fall in love with people who think I’m flawless.
It's short for Ignacio
I’m back after spending the day in the Hamptons interviewing polo player Nacho Figueras. I would have been talking to him before the match (the game?) but for the second Saturday in a row the match/game, which consists of chukkas which are seven minutes each (someone did some googling!) was called off because the field was soggy. Everyone still hung out under the tents but after hearing him talk so much about polo I really wanted to watch him play. It’s saying something since I am to watching sports as I am to…
What’s something else I really don’t share a pronounced fondness for, which sets me apart from so many of my peers?
Having babies? Grape Nuts? Summer?
You know?
If I’m making even less sense than normal it’s because I’ve been up forever. I’m hating myself for dumping a big pile of stuff on my bed as I ran out the door this morning. I guess I have no choice but to push it onto the floor.
For more of today’s blow-by-blow action you can check my twitter because I was updating that today. Or just wait until I write the story.