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

Thank you, Paul!

Interested in seeing many photos of me, some I hadn't even seen before, set to music? Of course I am. I mean, of course you are. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1jZ-DMa3o0

See me, hear me, love me, snuggle with me

I updated that junk on the right side of this here page to reflect tomorrow's radio interview on Devore and Diana and the stand up which I've been talking about so much it's like, lady, shut up already. You know?

Also, I bought some green beans today at the store because the quirky and whimsical placard said "Give your sous chef the night off," with these pre-cleaned and trimmed and ready-to-eat beans. I don't even have a sous chef but if I did he'd be named Henri and I'd never give him the day off because he's a slacker and I'm thinking of firing him anyway. These water spots on my silver? Unacceptable, Henri! And is that a chip in my fine bone china which was made from ground down parakeet bones and purchased in China when I was sent overseas as part of a military gravy boat buying mission? The Audubon Society never let me hear the end of it.

Hey look, it's me... again!

There's a lot of me on TV Saturday night/Sunday morning, in fact I feel slightly obnoxious pointing it out, which is weird because I'm all about talking about myself. I feel it's my duty. Plus, I enjoy it. So I don't really know what this sudden bashfulness is, but I know it feels foreign and I don't like it one bit. Shall my horn go untooted? I think not.

Now, to the TV:

I'm on Chelsea Lately at 11:30pm and 2:30am on E!

Red Eye at 2am ET/11pm PT on Fox News Channel

Weekend Today in New York at 7:40am on channel 4 (WNBC-TV)

Chelsea Lately and Red Eye are repeats, but maybe I'll say something different this time.

I'm on Red Eye tonight!

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.

A couple shots from The Activity Pit (courtesy of Malone's caps)

me me me me me me me me me me me me me (sometimes I just like to say what I'm thinking and feeling)

The morning after

Pitcher of appletinis (above)


Another pitcher, above, in case you didn't get the joke and need me to beat it into the ground

appletinis being poured into the bottom of what appears to be a giant tennis shoe


appletinis for your car

So how do I feel about last night's appletini, you are likely wondering? I deeply regret it. Not for physical reasons—I feel fine, if a little chagrined/horrified—but for matters of self-respect. Do I think I'm better than people who drink appletinis? Pretty much, yes. Appletinis are the drink equivalent of "okay dokey smokey" or "okeley dokely" or "easy peasy japanesey" (no offense to the Pacific Rim) or "right on" or maybe "sweeeeeet" in that you say them making fun of them and then one day you wake up and they've actually wormed their way into your vocabulary in earnest and also, you're that asshole drinking an appletini—which started as a joke because it sounds funny—but man if it doesn't go down easy peasy. [Note: no one actually adds "japanesey," that was just for effect.]

Okay, I have to be honest: I never said "okay dokey smokey," but I did have a problem with "okay dokey." I think my sister the plant-name stealer did too. I'm reminded of one of my favorite stories, courtesy of one Steve Lowery, who had taken to saying "nighty night" to his kids and heard himself end an interview with a sports legend that way. I forget who the sports legend was of course, because I don't know sports. Um, Mr. Pigskin? Sherman Bleachers? Doug Dugout? You see what's happening don't you? I've lost my sense of humor. This is kind of tragic actually, because I was counting on it for the weekend.

Also, I miss the big hair. It had kind of grown on me, literally! And without it I looked so smushed headed and dare I say fat-faced, because (shall I let you behind the curtain? okay then!) whilst in California I got my hair straightened (just the roots or the "regrowth" as it's called in straightening circles), which is a little thing I do like having my personal assistants shot, for those of you reading all the posts, which results in flat hair (the straightening, not the assistant shooting). It's why, I think, it poofed up so much the time before last (like poofed up in between when it was styled and when I went on air) and why, since they didn't want it as big last night, it was kind of stuck to my head. That didn't make much sense to you did it? My sense of humor along with ability to explain myself have been replaced with a swirling appletini. Let me try again: In its now unnatural natural state, my hair is quite flat. Because the texture is especially fine, it responded extremely well to the poofing last time, so much so that the walk to the newsroom kind of inflated it. Last night though, I think there was less poofing than usual, thus it was stuck to my head. Oh my God, who cares! I'm not even reading this anymore! I mean, seriously. Shall we take a look?

Delightfully big!

Robust!

pequeno

Did I mention I like to lapse into Spanish when talking about my hair?

Phoebish!

Because I post my chats with Wendy over here, by default, all other chats go here:

me:I can't lie to my public. I'm like Eva Peron Andy: in many ways.

i've actually decided that your on-air persona is very phoebe-ish. phoebish?me: my california friends told me I reminded them of her too it's my blond hair

Andy: yes, that's it.

me: I don't know if I see it

but I love Friends

so thank you

so but then if it's my on air persona that would mean in real life I'm more like Joey?

Andy: no, you're more like alison rosen.

especially the hair.

me: I love her!

except when she gets kind of

I don't know the word

annoying

Andy: she's great in small doses.

a couple shots from last night

Crapload of clips (from a bunch of shows)

Look, it's ME-bonanza! A festival of ME! A ME-palooza! A Me-varee! A ME-ding! A ME-splosion! I could keep going. Also, completely unrelated, I was thinking lately how much I enjoy brainteasers and riddles and things so if you know any, leave them in the comments!

I'm in Playboy

No, not like that! In the January 2008 issue they round up the Year in Sex and they blurbed my exchange with Ed Koch (here's the story as it originally appeared in Time Out New York). Thanks to the reader who tipped me off. That sounds dirty, doesn't it? Funny how everything can sound dirty when you view the world through flesh-colored glasses.

Also, I will post more photos soon. I have more Tobey photos and I have a bunch of me after various TV things which I took in case I wanted to try to remember how they did my makeup.

Weird

How odd is it that just when I say I need my comments, they get stuck in some comment holding place? Some comment purgatory? Some comment queueueueue? I think it's weird. And it makes me feel powerful. I just haven't figured out how yet to harness that power. So I have a post banging around in my head about how people keep confusing me with Julia Allison (and her with me) and yet I can't quite bring myself to write it for fear of exacerbating the situation or appearing to somehow want to glom on to her internet popularity. In fact, I think the whole phenomenon of her (and it's likely just a local thing) is something warranting some kind of boring academic semiotics based discussion and yet I won't do it, because I don't want to be responsible for any attention about the attention (meta-attention? metattention? blech), good or bad. But I will say that at first it was just fan letters and the occasional question that had nothing to do with me ("You're really good friends with Rachel Sklar, right?" to which I'd say "No, you're thinking of Julia Allison.") (I've also received questions about Halloween costumes I had no intention of wearing, compliments on my HD debut, questions about why I hadn't been on Red Eye lately when I'd been on the night before, etc. I don't know what she gets about me, but she told me she's gotten mail meant for me. But then a Fox security guard told me he gets us confused because "you look just like each other" which takes this to a whole new level because I thought it was the name and the TONY association plus maybe the dark hair. So, that's weird, because looking like her is very much not how I see myself, though I'm becoming more and more aware that I don't see myself as I appear. Um, I lost my train of thought. Okay then!

Today was a weird day

It just was. I filmed a pilot for a show about people obsessed with movies which is cool, except I'm obsessed with TV and so I kept making TV references when talking about movie actors. Some of my best, and by that I mean some of my worst were reminding everyone that George Clooney played George the handyman on Facts of Life and that Jason Bateman got his start on It's Your Move. The mindf*ck of the whole thing was that they told me there would be hair and makeup but there was just makeup so I went into the bathroom and attempted to do my hair myself using techniques I've seen them use and I managed to come out with it looking exactly the same if it's possible to both look exactly the same and yet somehow a little worse.

Then tonight I did Red Eye which is always fun except I feel like I may have wasted a lot of time leading up to a joke that sure sounded funnier in my head than out loud. And for the record, I don't really have body parts in petrie dishes that I keep in my apartment and even if I did, they wouldn't be the first thing I'd grab in a fire. At the end I did a little skit thing though, so that was fun. Or maybe it was more a "bit"? Now I have to go to sleep so I can wake up in a few hours.

Today's 1 Thing from the TONYblog

Liz Pappademas is a good egg. (Get it? See what I did there?)

Not to brag or anything, but I just got off the phone with my new buddyroo, Josh Schwartz, and we were talking about music, and I decided to pay him the compliment of talking at length about myself and all my various feelings about things pertaining to me, and afterward I was reflecting while checking myself out in a mirror and thinking that, as I was explaining to ol' J.S., music used to be such a big part of my life—I mean, I used to play in a band for crissakes—and it just isn't anymore. (Although I do really like the new Rilo Kiley album but I forgot to tell him that.) And part of loving music was loving going to shows.

So…

As it turns out I won't be doing Red Eye's Halftime Report this Friday as Andy Levy isn't going out of town after all, the bastard. Honestly though I was honored to be asked. As for your loss, which is considerable, here are some pictures to make up for it.

Best Bets 9-01-07

I love my exterminator

Is this what Eva Braun felt? I'm sorry, that was a terrible joke and I should probably take it down but the heady rush of the exterminator having swept through my apartment has clouded my judgment. I love him! He even smells good, which is probably the smell of rodent poison or something to mask the rodent poison. Anyway, while I'm not entirely confident the problem is solved because I won't believe it until I don't see it, I feel substantially better than I did a couple hours ago. I kind of wanted to take a picture of him for the blog, but then something stopped me. Strangely it was the urge to eat through rotten wood, crap in the linen closet and then scurry, squeaking, through a hole one eighth my size while possibly carrying pestilence though I think that's more folklore than anything. Strange.

And while we're talking about this I have something unrelated to say. I think it's funny when people pile on the host of that late night show I do for being so twisted. They'd probably be surprised to know a sweet looking girl in love with her exterminator spawns some of the more twisted material.

Links and mice

I've been posting quite a bit on the TONYblog. Maybe you want to read my posts over there? I think you do! Here's today's 1 Thing. It mentions movies and my inspirational prowess and then here's a 1 Thing from Wednesday which mentions Brooklyn and Michael Showalter. And then here's a delightful little post where I busted my coworker for his breakfast trysts. But wait there's also this one! And surely you love this conversation about mumblecore. And some stuff about Fringe. And a very important You Gonna Eat That with Drew Toal.

Also, unrelated except not to me because everything relates to this: I saw a mouse in my apartment last night. If you were anywhere near me a year ago you know how I named the mice last time around with the hopes that I could convince myself that Chad, Rob and Grover were cute uninvited cohabitants instead of horrible frightening vermin. It didn't work. Then a professional exterminator "rodent proofed" our apartment which solved the problem and was the best couple hundred and seventy five I could have spent. Well now a year later those whiskered assholes have chewed their way back in apparently. Or one has. He was hanging out near the foot of my bed seemingly surveying a box of beads which was down there too since the mini-move has put the wrong things in the wrong places. I just hope there's only one of him. Regardless the exterminator is coming out tomorrow morning. I'll be sitting up all night holding a jar of peanut butter, a wedge of cheese and a giant box. Probably a couple magazines, some triscuits, a paddle-ball, a Chinese finger catcher, a Chinese jump rope, some fortune cookies, a Magic 8-ball, an actual eight-ball, two cans of hairspray and a squeegee too.

Best Bets 8-11-07

Best Bets 8-4-07

Here's Best Bets, and I'm sorry I haven't posted anything of consequence word wise lately. Would it please you to hear about my allergies? Because I feel like someone rubbed a cat all over me today, which is not a euphemism. I have histamines in places I didn't know were possible. Date me?