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If the video doesn’t play, go here to watch.

Here’s a story I worked on that’s running in today’s NY Post. It was as-told-to me. Read it and weep. Literally!

So a few days ago I went to look at my wikipedia entry, the creation of which I had nothing to do with but periodically I check for hacking, and discovered  it’s being considered for deletion. At first I was concerned as I was none too fond of the idea of literally being erased but then I decided that really I don’t care because there are 8 million things about me on the internet and I know I exist and this is pretty much out of my control. Plus, I have better things to do with my time than fight for something capricious and also, as I explained to my mom, I have a feeling if this page were to be erased a new one would crop up soon enough anyway since I actually do exist and I’m so notable that sometimes I feel intimidated in my own presence. “That’s OK, you can talk, go ahead,” I say gently to my own reflection. Then I yell jinx because we said it at the same time. Then we have a staring contest and ultimately make out.

So ANYWAY, I am sick right now and really I should be putting the finishing touches on my book proposal since I told the agent I thought I’d have it to her by last week and also, see above paragraph which I wrote after drunkenly reciting the serenity prayer.

BUT, want to know what I just did for the last hour or so? I google searched the living hell out of my name, not only my current name but also Alison M. Rosen and Alison Michelle Rosen which I used to go by, to try to find things which prove I exist and am notable. Is my legacy really going to be that I asked Mayor Koch if he’s gay and then he asked me a question about blow jobs? I think it’s possible.

In other news, I had a gay old time (poor choice of words) running errands earlier and took a couple photos which I twittered. Perhaps you’d like to see them…again? I think you would.

But I hardly know it!

Nature had a little too much to drink last night.

Oh and I think I’m doing Bill Schulz’s Strategy Room magazine show on Friday again. And my Ustream show on Wednesday. And I have a story in the NY Post on Sunday. See, I AM important. I AM I AM I AM!

Also  notable?  I changed my sheets this morning. Totally made an ill-fitting bottom sheet my bitch.

Some of you may be familiar with my incredibly terrible ideas for pun-based cartoons. Remind me tonight on the Ustream show to tell you of my latest. It’s so bad it makes me cringe.

In other news, I’m wearing a turtleneck, sweatpants, fuzzy slippers and I have on no makeup which can only mean one thing: I  have a  hot date with the internet tonight and that means all of you! We’ll be chatting with the lovely Natali Del Conte and Dustin Goot will be dropping by. You can watch here or here (please note fancy new Facebook page!).

Here’s a picture of Natali and me because you love pictures.

And here’s a photo of me looking smarmy on Hannity last week. It’s unrelated but I just found it and thought it deserved airing out.

Let’s not even get into my sun yellow teeth in the above photo, let’s just go straight to the way the shadows make it look as if MC Escher has been doodling on my neck. Hot!

Also, I think my quick-tempered, overly familiar friend at the grocery store and I are going to need to break up because he kind of yelled in my direction  yesterday about pumpkin. The man is passionate about squash, which I understand, but still.

Also, when did Pepcid start targeting the goth market? This is a still from a commercial last night.

Because  goths suffer emotional and physical heartburn? Is Pepcid making some kind of meta joke? Can someone get to the bottom of this?

And finally, I  just agreed to appear on Fox News’s Strategy Room this Friday at 1pm for Bill Schulz’s magazine chat show (with fellow scribes Dan Bova, Noelle Hancock, John DeVore, Dawn Yanek and Steve Kandell whom I know from when we were both struggling freelancers who’d just arrived in New York) which is likely not its official name. Anyone know what its official name is? In lieu of an answer, let’s call it the Alison Rosen Hour. P.S. Let’s not tell Bill.

One more thing, I  just cleaned my bathroom and man alive does it reek of cleanliness in here. Like too much. A kind of cleanliness that’s burning my eyes and nose and mouth. Whoever recommended scrubbing with an onion was an idiot.

See you guys tonight!

I just had the most amazing conversation at the grocery store. As you know and are likely sick of hearing, I’m particular about milk and was drinking a certain kind which is no longer available so then I was at sea, milk wise, but now I’ve become a fan of a particular kind of Almond Milk. It’s the unsweetened Vanilla Almond Milk from Blue Diamond in the refrigerated carton.

delightful

Blue Diamond also makes the product in shelf-stable containers but the refrigerated tastes better thanks to the addition of calcium carbonate which is chalk. Apparently I like chalk in my fake milk.

good but needs chalk

Anyway, I’m at the store and the guy who works there, the one who often inquires how I’m feeling leading me to wonder if I look sickly, is stocking stuff  near the milk. I pick up a carton and tell him I’m feeling fine and then decide that I may as well indicate my love of this milk so they’ll keep it in stock. “I’m a fan of this milk!” I announce.

“Shhhh,” he says.

“I know!” I say, having no idea what he’s talking about.

“You know how you get, boo,” he responds.

“Yeah. Don’t want to jinx it!” I say, taking a stab.

I’m reminded of the time I took a ballet class which was far too advanced for me and everyone was doing the routine one by one across the floor and then it was my turn and I had no idea how it went so I just kind of flailed across the room and added my own little flourishes in time with the music, hoping my interpretation of the moves might somehow link up with the actual moves by sheer force of will.

Of course they did not.

Back to the milk conversation.

I kind of love that anyone is calling me “boo” and professes to know how I get! I don’t even know how I get or what exactly  I’m getting a certain way about, but I’m flattered nonetheless.