Thursday, February 05, 2009

It is strange

It is strange that after seven years of living on the East Coast I still want to run home to Orange County, CA when I feel sad or disappointed. Strange and inconvenient.

Not that I'm feeling any of these things because my life is so totally gangbusters I hardly have a minute to sit back and rest on my laurels. For that reason I've decided to have my entire apartment outfitted in laurels. I was going to have the place redone in trophies but after flopping down on "Best Sportsmanship--Tennis Open 1983" and realizing too late just how sharp those little rackets are, I called up the interior decorator and told her I wanted to stick with the theme of accolades but maybe we needed to find something, well, squishier. It was a shame because I had to send back the couch which was made entirely of small marble Press Club obelisks. I didn't see any other option.

My relationship with the interior decorator has been a source of some frustration and I do have to say that she was pushing ribbons hard. Ribbons and pennants. I had to slap her around a little because the thing is, when I filled out my comment card upon walking into her store, I circled "no horse or baseball awards." Sometimes I worry she doesn't take her job as seriously as I need her to.

Finding a good interior decorator who will outfit your apartment exactly to your liking using only materials meant to celebrate you is more difficult that you'd realize and if you aren't careful you'll come home to a roomful of streamers. I could hire monkeys to hang streamers. I know this because once I hired monkeys to hang streamers.

And you know what else? I thank you not to hit a going out of business party store to pick up the materials with which to decorate my apartment because if I come home and it looks like Uncle Sam puked all over my lanai, I'm going to know you looted the July 4 bargain bin.

Yes, I have a lanai. It's where the parrots live. I think we've been through this.

Have we not been through this? I have a small aviary which I inherited from Fred Audubon, no relation. Fred and I interned together on the U.S.S. U.S.S. It was a ship with a not very creative name which was ironic because there was a lot of creativity aboard that vessel. Between my glitter glue and Fred's pinking shears, well, let's just say no piece of construction paper was safe around the two of us!

Anyway, I fear I've said too much and I'm expecting a shipment of laurel throw pillows any minute now.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Don't feel bad alison..its just february.I can relate though.Just recently..around 2am last night,One of the little"spinach eater's"(as I like to call them)that live in my head,decided that he was christian bale and I walked into HIS scene.Let's just say it was a long night.Talk about feeling strange and inconvenient.
Anyway,I was just wondering where I can find a "marble Press Club obelisk" couch?Banging my head of laurel throw pillows just isn't working.
Keep your chin's up! This too shall pass.

Five Star Prototype said...

Not to be an ass, but isn't hiring an interior decorator kind of useless considering that it is just an apartment, which is only temporary? Hell, having an interior decorator would just be asking for conflict, since it's still not your exact vision anyway.

It's ok to want to go back home. I mean, after all, it is HOME. Plus, I'd take Orange County over New York City any day. Besides, you get to be closer to me, and we can go eat steak and drink some fancy wine. That's one hell of a deal, don't you think?

Adirondack Towels and Scrubs said...

You just wait until you see our little love-shack down in Mexico! I wired transferred the down payment this morning.

Now just to warn you you, it's sort of a fixer-upper. But we'll have fun working on it. After only 11 or 12 years of really hard, backbreaking work we'll have a nice little place to call our own. You own a wheelbarrow, right?

And get this... it's only 85 miles to the nearest store (over a dirt road) and they promised me we'd have electricity in 3 years... 4 years tops.

Toddrod said...

Wow! You've been in NYC for seven years?!?! That really impressed me because for some reason I was thinking you were there only 4 or 5 years. I'm also impressed because you've obviously had some success there. You are a household name in some households around this huge country of ours, and to me it seems your celebrity grows daily. Soon I'll be able to say, "I sorta knew Alison Rosen before she became super famous because I used to comment on her blog, and sometimes she'd tell me to 'fuck off!!'" Oh such bad language! I can't type it without cringing. Anyway, I love being a small part of your online life. It's exciting.

Toddrod

Anonymous said...

Blogtastic. This one deserves a pew-litzer. No, really. No, really really.

Ted from Accounting said...

Todd, I liked your post and insight about Alison getting all famous and big headed (kidding)...the famous part is true though!

It is really neat to see her success...read about her new home in Mexico and witness our little girl growing up!

Now get that darned website up, write that freakin book, get your own TV show, have the RosenFan club luncheon and ride off into the sunset with Joe!