What will you do when the phone rings at 3am? You will let it go to voicemail because you’re watching me on Red Eye. Duh!
Now, I couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of some potential bickering in the comments. Let there be no bickering! It’s very un-Alison-Rosen! It’s against the very spirit of that which brings us all together: ME. Can’t we all just love me and celebrate me? Together? Let’s not let our petty differences distract us from the true meaning of this blog.
It’s me! I did! I mean, I’m sure other people did too, but I’m the someone I was referring to.
You are probably thinking I bought alisonrosen.com and alisonrosen.net and alisonmrosen.com and alisonmrosen.net.
Well think again, buster. How would those names possibly help me get my business off the ground?
Erectile dysfunction medication isn’t going to sell itself.
In fact, that’s what I bought: erectiledysfunctionmedicationisn’tgoingtosellitself.MOBI
I think it’s weird that the bald singer has his own web address root thingie (or, you know, whatever it’s called) but I’ve ceased to be thrown by much these days.
Dear attractive gentleman who just moved into the building who only appears when I looks like crap,
So it seems we’ve met again just now. You were on your phone outside, wearing a tight-but-not-too-tight royal blue t-shirt that showed off your toned arms. I was wearing sweatpants, a gray t-shirt with stains on it and no bra. My hair was down and stringy and I wasn’t wearing makeup. Perhaps you didn’t recognize me from the last time we met, when the elevator opened on my floor and you were inside, wearing a natty suit and I was outside, holding two large smelly bags of garbage. I do own other clothes, but you wouldn’t know it since you cease to exist when I wear anything other than sweatpants. In fact, you might be a figment of my sweatpants’s imagination. I realize this is a leap, however there are plenty of times I’ve been wearing clothes that don’t also see the inside of a gym, and plenty of times I’ve actually been wearing makeup or at least, say, showered that day, and where are you?
If I were younger and more up for an adventure I would have quickly come back to my apartment tonight, changed and slapped on makeup and then gone back downstairs and tried to play if off like I’m someone else. Perhaps I would have made a passing reference to my lookalike roommate who works weird hours fighting crime but who’s gone undercover as a homebody. But I guarantee you wouldn’t be there.
However I suspect that if I were to put on retainers you’d actually appear in my room, which would be awkward.
And that’s why my teeth are slowly getting crooked.
(Bet that’s not where you thought this was going!)
Later,
Alison
As some of you may know, I’ve been blogging about the New Yorker cartoons I’d draw if I drew cartoons for the New Yorker and I even mentioned one of them on Red Eye. Someone named ShamrockRepublic made the following and posted it on The Activity Pit. Yay for me and my beauteous thoughts! (Thanks Shamrock!)
Why oh why is there no service where you can call up your DVR box and tell it what to record? Because I’m at the hotel where my parents are staying (Tobey is curled up near the TV) and they don’t get the Food Network here and Next Food Network Star is on tonight and I CANNOT MISS IT! And yet, I must. My sister is sitting near me using her boyfriend’s computer (we’re IMing eachother) and it smells like an old photo album. Okay, we’re not actually IMing eachother. We’re both doing work, except right now I’m lamenting the TV show which does not technically fall under the umbrella of “doing work.” But back to the fragrant computer. First of all, she claims it’s not the computer which smells like old photo albums but she is wrong wrong wrong because once she opened that thing I got a strong whiff of the seventies which is what I associate that smell with, since inside the particular stinky albums I’m thinking of are photos from the seventies.
Now about the TV show which it seems I’m going to be missing. Is anyone else watching this show? I’m in love with it. It often makes me cry, which is kind of embarrassing. I mean not an embarrassing kind of blubbering pee from my eyes type of weeping, more just a moistening at the corners. I think maybe once my nose ran. It’s just that these peoples sad dreams are laid bare and for the most part they’re all likable and trying hard and there aren’t any villains. Crap, now I must go help my sister with an issue pertaining to her old photo album. Just know that whatever I was about to say was going to be brilliant.
If I drew cartoons for The New Yorker and I was doing one around the time MAD magazine launched (or in its heyday) I would do one of a mouse made to look like ALfred E. Newman and it would say “What, me scurry?” If this also happened to coincide with a particularly bad rodent problem in the city, that would be ideal.
Freelancing makes you weird but it also makes you forgetful! Do people who work in offices actually work tomorrow? I can’t remember! What if I need to go to the post office? I don’t, but just saying what if I did? Or what if I needed to visit my money at the bank like in Mary Poppins? What if I need to do some offshore drilling? (before you judge, it’s a great workout!)
And by the way, “Freelancing Makes You Weird,” is the title of my new imaginary one-woman show. I think I’ll have a parrot in this show. I’m not quite sure why yet, but it just feels right. Don’t make me explain my artistic choices.
Okay fine, I’m not quite sure what I’m referring to in Mary Poppins either. Don’t they go to the bank at the end? Shortly before flying a kite?
Next you’ll tell me we can’t even fly kites tomorrow. This is most certainly not what our forefathers wanted.
I just got an email from my high school friend Trevor (of the doublequarce, nince, dince) and he read this and says:
I don’t remember him at all. According to Wikipedia, he was born in
1973 making him older than us. Also according to wikipedia:Francis grew up in Laguna Beach, California, USA.[3] […]
Francis attended and was expelled from Our Lady Queen of Angels
Catholic School among others.[2] He graduated from the University of
Southern California in 1995 with a degree in Business Administration.
He also completed USC’s Entrepreneur Program.[4]This makes me doubt the veracity of your memory. In any case, say hi
to your parents!
Now apparently Joe was only in our Spanish class (which had a mix of grades and also I was advanced in Spanish) for a little while and then he transferred to Laguna so it’s possible everyone’s right. I think probably I just wasn’t in that particular Spanish class.
Note: I kind of can’t believe I’m spending this much time figuring this out when a) I really don’t care b) I have other things I should be doing and c) there are other more interesting people that went to that high school if I’m really going to waste time talking about high school d) I mean, I should take a shower, that’s how much there are other things I should be doing e) the guy who wrote You, Me and Dupree went to CDM I just found out f) also, Lars from Metallica g) and McG who produced The OC and a bunch of other stuff h) do you think it’s weird that I still have to say the alphabet in my head sometimes to figure out what comes next? i) you do? thanks for the support! j) maybe I should just have a rule like I always take a shower right when I get up k) except that doesn’t factor in going to the gym l) freelancing makes you weird! m) Swingtown is on tonight. I’m pretty excited n) but not as excited as I’d be if it were Sunday and Next Food Network Star was on! o) it’s my favorite.
Guess I have no choice but to do Jello shots and put on calypso music. (That’s how you summon Joe Francis.)
and look who they brought!
