I had an argument with an egg

Being freelance affords you plenty of time to be sure you're going nuts. I devote a small portion of each day to said endeavor, but sometimes the realization creeps up on you unannounced, such as when you find yourself having an argument with an egg.

Asshole

See, what happened is I was making my famous meringues which I've written about before. To make these you must separate the egg whites from the yolks and I recently started using an egg separator which is amazing and I recommend you all head out and buy one or just steal one from your sister which is what I did.

Egg Separator

So I crack the egg—one handed because I'm fancy—into the egg separator and then jiggle it to let all the egg white drip into the bowl. Big blobs of egg white are clinging to the yolk though and just hanging there despite my incessant jiggling. At this point I actually say, with a lot of anger behind it: "Oh come on you viscous piece of shit!"

It was strange and came out of nowhere, though, I mean, the egg totally had it coming.

Yeah that's right. You go back to your egg house and think about what you've done.

How I end up with stuff I don't want

A cup of something I didn't want

I have a problem where I go along with stuff I don't want which I think is why occasionally I have the recurring dream that I'm about to get married when I suddenly come to my senses and think, "Wait! I never wanted to marry this person! I was just going along with it as a joke and also because I wanted to experience what it would feel like to act as if I was going to get married!" And then in the dream I wonder how I let it go that far without realizing that this was the trial run, not the real deal. Then I realize I'm not wearing any pants and I have to take a test that day but the test is in Portuguese and I'm having a conversation with a puppy. Not really on those last three things. Remind me sometime to tell you about the other recurring dream I used to have which I had for years and years.

But ANYWAY, sometimes I not only go along with things I don't want but actually select them. This morning I was going to get coffee at the little store I go to. I have an off and on relationship with flavored coffee and I'm currently in the heady throes of on. I sidled up to the French Vanilla spigot and lo and behold they didn't have French Vanilla they had Hazelnut which was definitely not what I wanted. Could I get behind the filbert invasion?

Here to ruin your morning

Hm... I thought to myself, holding up the line. Hm... I thought some more. HM... I kept thinking while people loudly cursed me. Then I whipped out my cell phone to call a friend to get another opinion. Not about coffee but just about stuff. Then I made a list of pros and cons. Then I meditated. Then night fell and I dozed off. Then I woke up and went for the Hazelnut and only a splash came out. "It's a sign!" I didn't think to myself. The only other coffee was decaf. Did I want decaf? No! I specifically wanted caffeine and plus I could kind of tell that this was decaf that was going to taste weirdly syrupy. It was a headache in a cup. A headache with a splash of hazelnut dregs. A hazelnutache. (Not to be confused with what that word kind of looks like which is hazelnutstache which would be a mustache made of hazelnuts. God how I wish there was a picture of that.) And really, I could easily have just tossed the cup in the trash and been on my way but instead I poured the cup of decaf and then drank it and it was everything I expected it to be.

"Why did I do this to myself?" I wondered, while sipping the gross coffee and thinking about the various things in life I've selected for myself that I knew weren't what I really wanted. To wit:

My last car
The gray-brown couch which thankfully I no longer own
My amp except that doesn't quite count because I didn't really know what I was buying at the time and needed an amp and etc.
The last apartment I lived in but also I'm not sure that counts
I feel like there are more.

Answer? I don't really know.

Oh! Also at one point I was choosing between a job I really wanted and which I had good reason to think I would get versus one that had been offered to me and I chose the one that was offered to me because I was afraid to roll the dice and end up with nothing. I don't know that that counts though because I could have ended up with nothing and then I'd be sitting here writing about how that was a mistake and etc. Plus the less desired job ultimately led to television, so perhaps this tangent doesn't belong here. You are unwanted, tangent! Oh wait, now I'm thinking of another job type situation that would maybe fall in this category. But again, I think jobs don't count because mostly you just work because you have to and because you need money and because it's better to be working than not. To really love what you do is an amazing luxury. Also, it's precious. But not precious like pretentious. Just precious like rare and valuable. Like every word that falls from my lips.

In other grocery store-related news, I bought some fresh herbs even though I don't quite know what to do with them. Do I keep them refrigerated? Or not? See, the meringue experiment has taken a drastic turn and I probably should have kept you all abreast of the situation but for whatever reason I've chosen to shut you out. Don't take it personally, it's just that you can't be trusted. I mean, I've given you ample opportunity to prove me wrong and you've failed every time. Every thyme! (Get it? No? Okay nevermind.)

Basil, Rosemary

I decided the Splenda was getting out of control and so I'm not longer sweetening the meringues but instead thinking of them as savory cracker puffs. So long as I don't overcook them and they get so dry and flaky I choke on the dust when I eat them and then gasp for air while coughing out a cloud of aspirated meringue, they're semi-edible. I've been seasoning them with rosemary and sometimes basil. Could I be any more fancy?

Also, I have a headache.

I have other things to write about. I'll make a list and then never write about them:

cravings
The Doug Benson Interruption
Throwing Muses
Will Ferrell on Broadway
mailboxes

Endangered words and creepy girls

Gawker put up this post about endangered words and the scary thing is that I frequently use most of the words people are worried about losing and/or saying should be brought back. Why, just the other day I remarked to a friend, "Zounds! I'm headed to a hootenanny where I shall squeeze my guts with a stick! Then I shall tweet about any terrific frippery I encounter after said gut squeezing." Which begs the question: Am I that person out there in the linguistic forest chained to a big tree? Because no one cares about that person. I mean, you don't want them to get chopped down because that's gross, but in general it's like, "you should have thought about that before chaining yourself to a tree." It also begs the question, does anyone chain themselves to trees or is that just a plot device from Family Ties?

It also begs the question if my references are anachronistic in the extreme so pretend instead of Family Ties I'd said One Tree Hill.


The other day Anna and I were talking and I told her a story where I'd worried I'd come off as a creepy goober and she stopped me and said nothing I could have done would be worse than having used the word goober. "But I like goober!" I weedled asthmatically. It was attractive. She relented a bit, perhaps I am more in touch with slang zeitgeist was the thinking, however I've since embargoed goober.

Goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober, goober...

Oops, embargo repealed!

So, want to hear the story where I was worried I came off as a creepy goober? I think you do!

I had potential plans to hang out with someone I don't know well however we're both incredibly famous and exceedingly wonderful. He invited me to a thing and I couldn't go to the thing so then maybe we were going to meet up the following day. He texted, "I'll touch base with you tomorrow." I quickly typed into my phone: "Not if I touch your base first." And, here is the thing, I was sitting there staring at my own text thinking, "Don't send this, it's sending a message you aren't intending to send." And then I watched myself hit send, knowing this was quite possibly going to make things weird, because ultimately I was more in love with my dumb wordplay than anything else. Hence the question which I discussed with The 404, can girls be creepy?

Upside/Downside

Well, on the upside, I had to turn in fifteen jokes by tomorrow and I just turned them in. On the downside, I stole them all from Truly Tasteless Jokes. Hope these people enjoy Helen Keller and dead baby jokes! Also on the upside, the grocery store near my apartment got a shipment of the milk I like! On the downside, the fact that the grocery store near my apartment got a shipment of the milk I like is an upside. On the upside, I bought more Brussels sprouts. On the downside, I accidentally put them in the freezer. On the upside, I had a baby. On the downside, I accidentally put it in the freezer too. On the upside, I can joke about such things. On the downside, now you all are afraid of me because what kind of monster makes those jokes? On the upside, I started walking down the wrong street thinking it was the one I lived on tonight but realized it about halfway down the block. On the downside, the block's half empty. On the upside, I don't have any major assignments hanging over my head. On the downside, I don't have any major assignments hanging over my head. On the upside, my hair is very lovely. On the downside, do you people only love me for my lovely hair? On the upside, lovely hair, I said. On the downside, but I totally need a haircut and there's all sorts of split ends and flyaways and it's time to get it straightened again except I'm sort of maybe thinking of letting the curls come back. Thoughts? On the upside, I'm kind of in love with the vlogs I've/we've been doing lately. On the downside, there is no downside on that one. On the upside, I'm a little bored and antsy. Not presently, because I'm tired, but just in general and in my life. On the downside, yeah bitch, who the fuck isn't? On the upside, in the olden days, men would turn to the sea at times like this. On the downside, I get seasick.

Sorry about the language, Todd!

Last night I went grocery shopping

Think I'm not the kind of person who buys Brussels sprouts? Well I just want you to know you're wrong. Feast your eyes on the below and then simmer in a pot of your own wrongness.




Yeah that's right. I bought Brussels sprouts. And I'll do it again. In fact, I like to pretend I'm in Belgium and just call them sprouts. As in, first I'm going to have, um, waffles, and then, um, chocolate, and then, um, sprouts, and then... and then I run out of things that have Belgian or Brussels in front of them. Anyone? Moving on...

I also am the kind of person who buys broccoli which, as you can see above, is thoughtfully wrapped in saran wrap by the grocery store. And not just any saran wrap, but blue tinted saran wrap. I make sure to request it.



"Hey, could I get the Saran Wrap that makes the food look toxic?" I say. Oh yeah, I also buy mushrooms, seen above. But sometimes I feel like something that tastes more like a jar so...



I opt for these. According to the label they're "America's Favorite Mushroom since 1928." On the top it says "Sell by 1929."

Oh and I also buy milk.


But this is the milk I prefer however the store only has it never to sometimes. It's half the calories of nonfat milk but tastes more like regular milk if you took that regular milk and divided it in half and then replaced half with water and half with paste and then thinned it out with magical polymers and silicon. It's delicious!

So but you're probably wondering what I do with the Brussels sprouts? I'm reminded of my friend the epicurean who claims microwaves are only for heating and reheating. Not so, guy. (Just searched in vain for a link to anything aforementioned friend has written but all I'm coming up with are douchey wireimage shots, so I'm going to just leave it alone. You get the gist.)

I'm on Red Eye on Monday--wait, no I'm not.

Remember how I was going to be on Red Eye tonight? Well shit happens, things change, people disappoint you. I mean, grow up, you babies. What, you think I can spoon feed you air dates forever? I have to go to France to find myself! Maybe I'll grow my hair out and burn my bra and burn the turnips I've been making for supper every single night since the great turnip famine. Maybe I don't even know HOW I like my turnips. Maybe I never stopped to think IF I like turnips. Maybe I'll get my ears pierced and not just one hole in each ear but two! I'm telling you, I'm CRAYZEE like that and I might just do it. I would need to pass it by your father and my pastor first, but then I totally might get genuine diamanelle studs in each ear, twice. But what will the women at the auxiliary club think? They just know me as Helen. Trusty ol' Helen who makes turnips and fudge and doesn't have extramarital affairs or pierced ears.

Who said anything about an extramarital affair? Is it getting hot in here? I have to go check on my turnips before Ned and the kids get home. Ned's indigestion has been pretty bad lately and Lewis entered his solar system in the science fair and I do hope he got at least a ribbon. I stayed up half the night painting Uranus.

Oh, just out of plaster of Paris and acrylic tempura paints.

At the start of this email I was going to tell you how I was rescheduled for Monday but in the course of writing it I found out there was a bit of booking confusion and so I'm not on Monday but will be on next week. I feel the not Monday thing isn't certain though. So we'll see.

Not my best vlog but I answered some questions! (and my mom called)

Did I just stop breathing for a second? I feel lightheaded and out of it/retarded. And if you happen to be my one friend who doesn't like the word retarded... I'm sorry. I'm offensive right now. Offensively slow. In fact, if I cared at all about only coming off as fantastically entertaining I would take this vlog out back and shoot it. But no, I'm too lazy to do another one so up this one goes. Consider yourself warned.

Things to think about when naming your imaginary pets

Earlier tonight I went on like six dates with seven guys and then I hit an array of parties, a few summits and one fête before coming home to think about good names for imaginary crime fighting puppies. How is a fête different from a party? If you have to ask you'd never understand. I mean, seriously.

I was thinking about names because I announced earlier that I'd never name a puppy Sal which seemed to ruffle a few feathers. Look people, I just wouldn't and it's not because I had a bad run in years ago with a broker named Sal. Wait, yes it is.

It got me thinking about... what was I saying? I'm very unfocused right now because the TV is on and there are people talking about the job market. More like there are people yelling at me about the job market. Also, there are words flying across the screen. It's very dynamic. You know, if dynamic meant "so busy I want to throw my shoe at the TV."

I'd throw the Magic 8 Ball but then how would I ever make a decision?

Me: Should I throw you at the TV?
Magic 8 Ball: Outlook not so good.

Um, so anyway I was going to tell you about the list of puppy names I'd made, with your help, back when my parents first got Tobey-who-didn't-have-a-name and then I was going to explain that when naming imaginary pets you often have to see them first. For example, I'm currently the proud owner of a pair of imaginary mackerel named Bob and Kelvin. How did I get those names? Well, okay, confession: I overheard them introducing themselves to someone. But the point is that the names really do suit them. One day Kelvin told me he was thinking of going by Chaz and I was like, "Who are you trying impress, Kelvin?" I hope that wasn't too harsh, come to think of it. I want to nurture his imagination while at the same time making sure he's got a grip on reality and strong sense of self. It's a delicate balance I suppose.

Stuff I've accomplished today

In case you're thinking I haven't accomplished much today I'm standing here telling you that you are wrong with a capital WR! WRong my friend. Incorrect. Erroneous. Full of misinformation. Dunderheaded. Chowderbrained. Mistaken. Specious.

Not that I have to justify myself to you or anything but I may as well tell you just a little bit about all that I've done. But I'm telling you because I want to, not because I owe you or because I have anything to prove so don't get the wrong idea.

I placed an order on drugstore.com for shampoo and toilet paper except web sites refuse to call it toilet paper which is evidently grody and gauche and so I had to search around the site trying to find it. I ordered 18 rolls of something called "aluminum foil." Hope it's the right thing!

THEN my mom called and I stayed on the phone with her for an hour even though I said three times "I don't want to be on the phone anymore." I even whined something fierce by the third time. Then I pouted for awhile.

THEN I took a shower and not just any shower but a cold one. And here's the thing that gets me, I was just talking with someone about the amazing water pressure in my shower so I'm concerned the shower overheard me and got too comfortable. You know? I'm not ready for the shower to have stopped trying.

THEN I shivered for awhile.

THEN I turned blue and dropped dead.

THEN I checked my email.

THEN I drank some black cherry flavored sparkling water which is free of calories, caffeine and sodium but full of heroin, which I dump in by the rock full. By the chunk full? By the resin? By the small bag? I'm sorry, apparently I don't know as much about heroin as I pretend.

THEN I wrote this blog post.

THEN someone gave me a puppy and I played with it. "How did you know?" I asked. "I just did," said... the puppy. His name was Sal.

THEN I renamed the puppy because I wouldn't name a puppy Sal. I mean, give me a break!

THEN I noticed that my fingers were kid of pruney.

THEN the puppy and I fought crime together and saved three porpoises and an orphan.

THEN I did other amazing things that I'm not going to tell you about because frankly, you and I are SO OVER.

Six long minutes of shuffling

You know how some people just have that certain quality where they could do anything on camera and you'd watch them? Well this video does nothing to suggest I may be one of them, but fuck it, I will shuffle in bad lighting for six minutes because who's to stop me? The shuffle police? The bad lighting gestapo? The card guard? The bulb force? You know?

Also, at the beginning I rambled in a not very articulate way about today's Strategy Room appearance.

So anyway, again, this is for those who are requesting vlogs. Should your Alison needs not include vlogs I suggest you visit my youtube page.

And should this be your first visit to my blog first of all, I'm sorry. Second of all, there's a history with the card thing, but I'm too lazy to recap right now. Awesome!

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

Need a resolution?

If you're like me then you're already perfect so New Year's Eve proves troublesome when it comes to choosing a resolution. How can you fix what isn't broken? How can you improve on perfection? How do you solve a problem like Maria?

And yet you know someone is going to ask you about your resolution and you're going to have to come up with something. Below are some trusty standbys. Choose one or choose a few. Mix and match! Or don't. But if you need one in a pinch, here you go:

I resolve to:

stop biting my nails
start biting my nails
stop swearing in front of children
have some children and not swear in front of them
stop exposing myself to the neighbors
expose myself to the neighbors
stop eating my feelings
stop eating your feelings
stop doing drugs
only do fun drugs
stop setting fires

start journaling
start exercising
start living life to the fullest
start reading (i.e. learn how to read)
start not being such as asshole
start paying for stuff instead of just putting it in my pocket and running out of the store


lose ten pounds
lose the 'tude
lose my keys and find them in the outstretched hand of an attractive gentleman who caught them when I threw them at him really hard, accidentally
lose half my savings in a Ponzi scheme
lose my shirt in a poker game
lose my cool in a high pressure situation
lose the weave, girlfriend

talk to a physician
talk to a professional
talk to my boss
talk to the hand
leave a message at the wrist


send thank you notes
send warm wishes
send bills on time
send balls of yarn
send emails from the computer at home instead of while you're telling me a story which I'm pretending to listen to but really not because I'm sending email
send a letter it would get there faster

update my facebook status
update my marital status
update my style
update my steez
update my showering schedule
update my linked in page because I'm only 70% done

wash my makeup brushes
wash my dog
wash my hair
wash that man right out of my life (plus, send him on his way)
wash off the clown makeup
wash off the blood
wash off the meringue residue

write down all my brilliant ideas
write down computer passwords so I don't forget them
learn to juggle

change computer passwords because I wrote them down and lost the papers
change underwear
change my bad habits
change, be the

A joke about furniture

Note: sometimes I come up with terrible jokes, the kind that make you groan. It's getting worse as I get older, though my allergy to cats is getting better as I get older. I don't know what to make of this. Eventually my sense of humor will deteriorate to the point where the only kinds of jokes I can make are truly embarrassing and at that point I'll know it's time to have kids.

Anyway, to the joke, and I use the word "joke" loosely:

Woman: It's an occasional table.

Man: Well, what else is it? (maybe this should be: What's it when it's not a table?)

Or maybe it should be "What's an occasional table when it's not a table?"
But then I don't know what the answer is.

I vlogged for you

Sometimes I get all deep and stuff

I have oodles of free time. So much that I hardly have a moment to myself. It's always jet skiing and flower pressing and foreign language classes. I nearly whacked my head this morning on an egg-laying chicken as I was making my way out the door to pick up wax for letter embossing. In between the stress of that and the wooziness of giving blood, how can I be expected to fly a kite? And my cribbage partner has given up on me. That's what was on my mind in the shower this morning.

Well, that and the arbitrariness of the days of the week. Why does the day change at midnight? And how different would everything be if it changed at noon? I think this is what you think about when you appear on a show that airs at 3am. I never know which day to assign to it. It really feels like part of the day before, yet technically it's a new day. Hence the arbitrariness because no one really considers midnight a new day unless you're talking birthdays or periods of time you're trying to get through.

I mean yes, it somewhat correlates to the sun, but I don't believe in the sun, so I refute that theory.

If you like festive seasonal crap

If you like festive seasonal crap then I am duty bound to tell you that now is the time of year that Celestial Seasonings puts out their special holiday themed teas. There's Gingerbread Spice, Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride, Last Year's Fruit Cake, Cranberry Frostbite and Fuck, Where'd I Put The Wrapping Paper. I may have made up those last three but the first two exist and I'm telling you, they are whimsy in a cup. Need more proof? I offer the following good cheer filled picture essay.

Gingerbread Spice tea plus...

a cup, plus...



a willingness to enjoy festive tea...





I mean a real willingness, the kind evidenced by crossing one of your eyes...

and making out with your cup...



Leads to this.

The End.

Freelancing Makes You Weird

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.