Think of me as programmable soda.

Christmas has done come and gone and I've invaded and retreated from the South (and ingested a whole lot of fried and sugared things). Other than a blissful couple days with Lori and her family followed by a couple more oddly peaceful days with my own, I have nothing to report. I hate to admit it, but Christmastime loses a lil somethin'somethin' without little ones running about. Perhaps one day...

I've been trying to find the words to adequately reflect on the past year and eloquently pose my hopes and dreams for the next. I think 2008 can by summed up as the "Woah. Didn't see that coming" kind of year, and I'm at peace with that. No one ever thought I'd last over a year in New York City, much less going strong on nearly two and a half. No one ever thought I'd fall into a career path and advance to management at the tender young age of 26. No one ever thought I'd conquer my alone-aphobia. Or that I'd try to move back to North Carolina and fail. No one ever thought I'd suddenly start to get along with, and respect, certain members of my family. No one ever thought I'd finally mature and leave the petulant child act behind.

Maybe I'm not giving anyone enough credit. Maybe what I mean by "no one" is "I."

At any rate, I stand ready to step into 2009 without any resemblance of a plan. Usually there's a list. (And dammit, I usually stick to that list, too.) But seeing how every plan I make seems to unravel, I refuse to make one for the year. Let 2009 be the year I love deeper and laugh louder and fall harder and surrender to God's will better than I ever have before. Perhaps that's the chicken's way out but I don't care because there doesn't really seem to be any other way for me to be.

Currently occupying the coveted background of my blackberry is my most favorite picture of this year. It serves as a constant reminder to always question, always wonder.

Where AM I going? I'm not entirely sure, yet I do have a very good feeling about 2009. It just feels like the kind of year where what I want and what I need are going to find each other and fuse together. I. Can't. Wait. I am going to be happy.

Though it is, I admit, the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated.

Do you know how I know I'm still a Southerner at heart?

Here at work, and high above Times Square, I glanced out the window to see snow pouring from the sky. It took a great deal of effort to not squeal and rush outside and stick my tongue out and dance in the stuff. Even though I know snow will inevitably bring subway delays and wet feet and generous opportunities for slips and falls and general crankiness about the city...I don't know. I can't help it. Somewhere deep inside, I'm still that 8 year who has only seen snow a time or two.

Speaking of the South...this time next week, I will BE there. Georgia and Alabama, to be exact. Bring on the sweet tea and cover me in grits. I absolutely cannot wait!

I also can't wait for 2009. 2008 has been...well, a year. Mostly good, some bad, lots of learning and growing. You can't always get what you want. You caaaaaan't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you might fiiiind. You get what you neeeeed!...has been the theme song. And dammit, I'm ready for what I want and what I need to go hand in hand. There's a special kind of hope a new year brings. My resolutions are at the ready and I'm already antsy to get out of this year and into the next.

But mostly, I'm just ready to be down yonder. Bless my heart.

But it's thoughts like these that catch my troubled head (when you're away, when I am missing you to death)

Do you know how I know I'm getting old(er)?

Today was my day off. The apartment is relatively clean. The dishes are mostly done. (Thanks, Megan.) My underwear drawer is mostly full, which is to say I don't have an immediate and desperate need to do laundry. I can still see the creases on the pants legs of my suits, which is to say I didn't feel like a dry cleaner run just yet.

Happy to not have an agenda, I plopped my butt on the couch, vampire fiction in hand. Elizabetta has been coaxing me to read Twilight for months, and yet it has just now become too difficult to ignore, what, with all the Facebook status updates and changing of artificial last names to Cullen. Might as well see what the big deal is about, right?

So here's picture proof of my perfect day.


Upon finishing the book, (and sushi - YUM) I emailed Crissie and begged her presence for a movie screening. I could not wait another second to see Edward and judge Bella. (I'm not worthy, I'm not wooooorthy!!!!) Tickets and popcorn and Diet Coke in hand, we settled in.

And my first reaction?

Bella's dad is CUTE.

That's right, folks. I am at the age where the FATHERS in films now appeal to me.

I'm old. There. I proved it.

All I really need is you.

And all I really have to say is...

ROOOOOOOOLL TIDE! ROLL!!!!

It's been a fun year to be a Bama fan. Last night was absolutely no exception. Of course, the Alabama/Auburn game means the end of Football season is near. These silly Yankees seem to think baseball season is something to be excited about, but I beg to differ.

Day off tomorrow! I don't plan on budging from my pajamas or couch. The end.

What could be so wonderful about this? What could be so wonderful?

I had a really freakin' fantastic Thanksgiving, y'all.
Picture story on my flickr

More to come, I hope. In the meantime, BRING ON THE HOLIDAYS.
I just love this time of year.
This year, I'm not mourning the lack of my nonexistent family. I'm just enjoying the family I do have. Because there's nothing like an apartment full of laughter and friends and good food.

Even when life's not what you planned, it's still pretty sweet.

And nobody knows...what's gonna happen tomorrow.

She likes to let it come right to the tip of her tongue, and then she feels like an angel talking

Once again, Crissie and I are putting our Southern(fried) upbringing to good use by hosting Thanksgiving dinner. Which basically means we cook and beg our friends to bring lots of wine in return. This typically results in much giggling and more leftovers. Good times.

As I will be working a looooooong day tomorrow, I took today to buy my supplies. I get to be in charge of the turkey. Upon purchasing said bird, I sent a text to tell everyone I'd named him Norbert and that Norbert was anxiously awaiting meeting everyone on Thursday. Then, Vida IMs me.

Vida: is norbert alive?
Alison: hahahahahah
yes
i have a live turkey hanging out with me and mags right now
she is NOT amused
Vida: when ya gonna lop off its head, skin it, cut its feet off and gut it
Alison: when you get here
please
i can't kill a roach, think i can wack a turkey?
Vida: you seriously have a live one?
Alison: vida.
Vida: no way
Alison: you're ridiculous.

The only thing I love more than making myself appear silly in my blog is making my friends appear silly. Right, Megan?

I pulled down a couple Christmasy things to get the apartment in the mood for the the inevitable decking of the halls that lies just around the corner. Hot damn, I sure do love star garland. Really, now. Is there anything better?



I'm pretty sure if I can navigate through this week and into next month, I just might survive. Oy. What are the warning signs of an ulcer, panic attack, heart attack, or otherwise?

I'm as nowhere as I can be. Could you add some somewhere to me?

Let's talk about last weekend, shall we?
(Yes, I know it's closer to this weekend than last and that that officially makes me a slacker, but whatever.)

So Taryn came to town because...well, because I live in a fun city with good food and hot men. So, we ate good food and drooled over hot men. Oh, and shopped for shoes.

After a relatively tame Friday night full of steak and red wine, we awoke Saturday morning to see Speed the Plow. Enter Hot Man #1 of the weekend - Jeremy Piven. And while I'd given him a solid "pretty darn good," homeboy wasn't NOTHIN' compared to my favorite Broadway baby, Raul Esparza. Damn. It is borderline disgusting how talented that man is. Perhaps 2009 will finally be his Tony year, since 2007 and 8 failed him.

I'm not a huge Mamet fan, but I didn't hate this one. Two thumbs up! Excellent see!

Our Pinkberry initiation followed the show.

Now I know why I never went to Pinkberry. Because now I'm obsessed with the stuff. And want to eat it every day, even though it's freezing. Literally. It's literally freezing here now, y'all. This weekend, I was hot in short sleeves, yet Monday I saw my first snowflake.

Then we shopped. Taryn needed boots, so we found her some. See?

I then tried to defy the elements and have a good hair night. It didn't work. Oh well. You just can't win 'em all.

And then it was Perilla time! Or, more importantly, Hot Man #2, Harold Dieterle! Or more importantly, the food! Or more importantly, Harold! The food! The food! Harold! I DON'T KNOW. IT'S ALL INSANELY AMAZING.
I had the duck.

So the food was amazing. The Harold sightings, not so much. Sigh. I guess I'll just have to wait until worst case scenario Alison rears her ugly head once more, 'member?

But I digress. And now I need to be corny. I realized the ladies who joined me for dinner all represented a different, large chapter of my life. And I just think it's cool that all the chapters are still busy weaving themselves together to create a really remarkable, albeit a bit bizarre, story.

And that's what I have to say about that.

It's the end of the world as we know it. (And I feel fine.)

I cracked. I've been putting it off for a long time. Actually, I didn't really need it till lately. But even then I didn't want it. And now I've ordered it and I'm stuck with it and my life is never ever ever ever ever going to be the same.

That's right, friends.

I'm getting a blackberry.

Now. Eversince the conception of teh internets I've been a liiiiiiiittle too obsessed with what happens online. There's just so much to do and see and it always just makes my little heart soar to see someone posted such and such on my wall or sent me a someecard or uploaded new pictures or whatever pointless things we do. I knew if I got a blackberry, the world might never see my face again.

But, being that I'm not always in front of a computer and we're heading into the busy season and sometimes people elect to communicate electronically instead of PICKING UP THE DAMN PHONE, bossman said Alison, get a blackberry. So I complied.

If I pay more attention to it than you, you're welcome to smack me around a little bit. Deal?

I know all the wrongs and rights and I just want a little light to fall on me.

It's Sunday morning. I rolled over around 8 and greeted a bright blue sky I feel like I haven't seen in ages. See?

I took the opportunity to hide under the comforter and snuggle with the cat until I got good and bored. (Took about 4 minutes.) And then I brewed a pot of coffee, flipped on some tunes, and set my staff's schedule for the week. I am becoming a workaholic but I don't exactly mind because it's good to be useful. Still, I view this as a morning of leisure. If you get to work while in pajamas it doesn't really count.

I am a creature of habit and this week has brought a world full of change and I'm learning how to not stomp the brakes and throw a hissy fit. I don't know why I'm so ill equipped for this stuff. I completely recognize all the good that comes with change.

Barack Obama. Democratic leadership in general. Hey, leading America is a hard row to hoe and I'm not saying the GOP and especially the GWB didn't try. But come on, y'all. It clearly wasn't working. Our economy is in the stinker, our natural resources are not being properly cared for, our working class is sinking, our decisions have been based on faulty, antiquated, and biased views, and our reputation to the world beyond our borders is NOT the one most of us would prefer. John McCain may have earned back a few cool points with his concession speech, but the fact of the matter is that his entire campaign did little more than offend me and turn me off of the Republican party even more completely. Selecting a running mate based solely on her sex, improperly branding the ticket and platforms, and a whole lot of back peddling. Obama's victory is not change for change's sake - it's change for the world's sake. And he's not going to be able to do it alone, so I'm challenging myself and anyone out there to (here's a novel concept) HELP. Do your part. Be useful. Perhaps that's been the problem with Bush's terms all along. We were all, self included, too quick to point fingers and place the blame on the figure head. Let's not make the same mistake with Obama - many of us worked too hard to get him where he is now. Deal?

Change.

Life. I sat in a meeting this week and could absolutely feel the gears of my universe shift and set off in an entirely new direction. And for once, I didn't mind so much. I recognized my impulse to resist based only on the newness. It stung at first, to realize tomorrow won't be like yesterday and that I have got to learn to let go of the past in order to find the future. But I'm a manager now. A real live grown up adult. Touch me, I exist in this form now and I don't exactly hate it. I am capable of independent thought that impacts others' lives. I've found that impossible rumor of a job that I love, that I'm good at, and that pays the bills.

Change.

Love. I'm not in it. And sometimes I get so scared that I'm not going to get married or have the chance to decide if I want to be a Mommy. I'm starting to think my problem is that I've seen myself as manipulator of my own destiny, which is a more eloquent way of telling you I'm a control freak. Perhaps there are things I can control and I'm starting to think this is one thing I cannot. I can make room in my heart (and goodness knows I have) but I cannot spackle that void.

Change.

Friends. Ok, so no change needed here. I'm set, supported, and happy. Thank y'all. Seriously. I don't know what I did, but I'm glad I did it.

And there are your thoughts for this Sunday morning. I'd like to tell you we'll be in touch like this more often, but these next 6 weeks are what I've spent the last 10 and a half months preparing for. I've got 4 new team members, 6 veterans, 3 new properties, 3 old ones, 2 bosses, 24 hours in a day, and one me. Come on in, 2008 Holiday Season. Let the fun begin!

A change is gon' come

I've got a lot to say (SURPRISE) but unfortunately not a lot of time to say it.
So I'll make this brief and then hit you up with my ramblings later tonight.

Last night was one of the most memorable nights of my life. I cannot wait to tell my grandkids of the night I sat in Astoria, drinking champagne and eating (chocolate) cupcakes, watching a brilliant man take charge of a nation that desperately needs him. (No pressure.)

Barack Obama, you make me proud and excited. Congratulations! I cannot wait to see what the next 4 years hold. I will be behind you, doing my part. Promise.



Yes we can? YEAH WE DID.

Put on your green lights. We're in the city of wonder.

Warning: This is a blog that may easily be filed under "Too Much Information" and also "Slightly Obnoxious"
Proceed at your own risk.

I'm a little mentally fragile today. Just in a funk, and I blame the weather, the early darkness, and PMS. (See, I warned you.) I tried all my usual cheer me up things. Bad daytime tv. Exercise. Hummus. Guitar. Internetting. I contemplated knitting, but figured that would just frustrate me. I even did my most favorite I'm having a bad day activity - putting on makeup, doing my hair, and taking pointless pictures. (Look at how much you're getting to know me in this here entry!)



But I've just had me such a hearty chuckle that I can't even believe I spent the day being such a sourpuss. See, tomorrow is the day that America will head to the polls. (Or in my case, hope their absentee ballots actually get a chance to be counted. I decided a vote for Obama in NC would count more than a vote for Obama in NY, so I kept my registration in NC.) And I have this unfailing belief that we will finally do right by ourselves, give a big ole TTTTHHHHHHBBBBBTTTTTTTTTT to the GOP, and elect Obama into office. I've steered away from political tirades in this space because I do not feel defined by my political beliefs. That being said, this election has excited and energized me and I cannot wait to watch the poll results roll in tomorrow.

So of course, Megan and I planned a slumber party. We've both had a kind of rough go of things lately. Giggling always helps ease the troubled, hormonal mind. (Again, with the TMI.) While planning said Election Night Slumber Party, the following conversation occurred.

Megan: so what should I make for dessert?

me: something blue

Megan: something blue? blueberry pie?

me: FUNFETTI CUPCAKES WITH BLUE ICING!!!

Megan: ooooohhhh

me: hahahahahhaha

Megan: so just blue

as in obama

or red white and blue for america

or apple pie

which is american

me: NO RED

NO RED ANYWHERE

Megan: haha

ok

hehe

well lasagna is red

or has red in it

me: fine. but we can't help that

unless

we dyed the sauce blue too

Megan: then we'd have blue poo

between that and the cupcakes

which of course will be chocolate

::cue crickets::

oh wait that may have sounded racist

me: HAHAHAHAHA

Megan: i meant cuz of [the PMSing]

Chocolate cupcakes for Obama! Obama in general! Chocolate, too!!! HoooooRAY!!!

Around the world, there isn't room for every special thing

Ladies and gentlemen.
Boys and girls.
Good people of the world. But especially inventors and those who come up with cool shit for the betterment of society.
Put down your pens and your sketchpads and step away from you computers and contraptions and cease to imagine entirely. This weekend, I discovered something that says to me everything important has already been thunk up.

What you see here is a "Waddling Penguin Pooper." It's a penguin. It waddles. And then it shits small turds of chocolate for your enjoyment. Brilliant.

Only thing I ever could need only one good thing worth trying to be - and it's love. Love.

I find the pieces of you in my dreams
And in the evenings
Spill out the edge of my mind.
Memories of you feel like they're miles wide
It's all I can do to get to the other side
Of these evenings
(Sara Bareilles)

Sigh.
(And that's all I'm going to say about that.)


I think I have a new Sunday afternoon ritual.

I devoured the New York Times while sitting in the park and watching boys play football. Too bad it's getting too cold for so nice a ritual. Oh well. The New York Times part will stick. I hope. It might be nice to form coherent sentences, logical thought, and well-informed opinions.

I tried to take a picture of the pretty fall colors, but my camera phone ain't so good. But it's ok. I'm now going to tell you this is art and I meant for it to look like this...k?

Cool.

Will I discover a soul-saving love, or just the dirt above and below me?

Beware, the dreaded once a week updates. I fear that after this, I'll dwindle down to one per month, followed by the increasingly sporadic "I'm so sorry, I suck at blogging!" posts. Noooooo!!! I MUST MUST MUST find things to tell you about!

Yesterday was spent snoozing, wearing flannel, watching bad tv, and eating sushi.

This morning, I tried a different approach. I woke up at a perfectly respectable hour. I put on jeans and my most favorite snuggly sweater and grabbed Lori's latest, greatest idea.

Our shared journal. Don't be jealous. It's not our fault we're adorable.

I also grabbed my camera, for in front of my favorite bar stands my favorite tree, all blazing with violently orange leaves. I wanted to show you. But when I arrived, I found this.

Enter metaphor for life: don't ever, ever hesitate to capture intense moments of beauty. You never know when they're going to blow away. C'est la vie.

Onward I trekked, to Terrace Bagels. I was all set for turkey bacon and egg whites on a multigrain bagel, when I made my most favorite discovery. It's Autumn, which means it's time for apple cinnamon cream cheese. You have no idea how happy this makes me.

You have no idea how happy their coffee makes me.


And then I sat in the park and stared at blank pages for awhile before I finally summoned the desire to tell Lori some stories.

Oh, and I mourned the passing of flip flop season.

It's officially time for silly things like socks and boots, y'all.

And then I began to write and boy hidey, did it feel good.


When I finished writing, I stayed put on my bench and grinned at all the toddlers and nannies and dogs and daddies that crossed my path.

Good morning, I'd say.

I want to live where soul meets body.

Things I did today:

1) Woke up at 5 AM after staying up a liiiiiittle too late to drink beer and watch the debate. Good times.

2) Worked. I love my job. I do. I just don't love doing it all time. But today there were points I just smiled to myself (in an unpretentious way, of course) and said damn. I'm good at this because I LOVE this. And at the end of the day, I get to say I get paid to talk to people and make them happy. Dream job, what?

3) Listened to a bunch of Northerners (some of whom have never really even been down South) diss the greatest place on earth. Nuh-uh. Not on my watch. You don't like the South because you can't HANDLE the South. That is absolutely fine. More sweet tea for me.

4) Had a super-snobby Frenchman hate on my hair but then deliver an amazing cut and the greatest blow-out of my life. My hair has tons and lots and beaucoups of bounce and oompf. I mean, I could have done without the pre-cut bashing, but I guess all's well that ends well. (And shiny and healthy and generally quite lovely.)

5) Saw Katie Holmes. She looked so sad I kind of wanted go give her a hug. Poor Katie Homes. I hope she's ok.

6) Free dinner. Nomnomnomnomnomnomnom.

7) Got entirely too excited about America's Next Top Model. Seriously. Shrieking not necessary.

8) Girlishness. Real bad girlishness. Giggle giggle giggle squeal omgomg omg omgomg OMFG. Siiiiiiiigh. Squeal. Giggle giggle hehehe. Scheming, planning, hoping and wishing. Siiiigh. Hehehe.


K. That's all I got.

I see a red door and I want to paint it black.

If you're going to deface public property, might as well say something nice!
And for the record, I smile every morning as I walk past this. Well done, public nuisance! Way to start my day off right!

I'm dancing in a room as if I was in the woods with you.

The long and the short of it is, I freakin' love this window. This quote. This picture. Everything.

I'm a dreamer. A distant dreamer.

Some things.

1) I sure do love Barack Obama. I especially loved the debate. I really super loved watching John McCain act like a whiny little bitch. Maverick, my ass. And next time you talk about (not) being Miss Congeniality of the Senate, Imma sick Sandra Bullock on yo ass. (I'm so not gangster. I try. I do.)

2) I have no idea what got into me, but I went on a shopping binge from the comfort of my own couch this weekend. I basically bought out every store's remaining summer lines in the hopes I can learn how to layer and not look like a dumpy blueberry this fall.

3) Speaking of shopping, it's entirely possible I may have accidentally shoplifted this week. Needed a new suit for work, so to Macy's I went. Found something gorgeous, although entirely out of my price range. Bit the bullet and bought it anyhoo, noting that the price I paid was considerably lower than I had anticipated. Said a quiet little prayer for Macy's sales. Got home, checked my receipt and realized she only charged me for the jacket and not the pants, too. Whoops. Ok. So. I definitely accidentally shoplifted. But it's not as if I tried to pull a fast one! I handed her the pants and jacket and two separate hangers! Can my conscious be clean now? Please?

4) I decided to pull all my winter/fall stuff. Unfortunately, there is a large bug with about a bijillion legs chilling out in the first suitcase I pulled. So I screamed, shoved it back under the bed, and here I sit, shaking, blogging instead.

5) I'm going to Paris next year. True story. But first, I need to learn French. Bonjour! Je m'apelle Alison! Ca va! Bien sur! Look! I'm a natural!

6) Being a boss is hard and also awesome.

7) It's entirely possible that this week might suck.

8) I miss Charlotte so much I sometimes feel like I might spontaneously burst into tears.

9) I loved New York in the Fall so much I sometimes feel like I might spontaneously burst into squeals and cackles.

10) Roll Tide! Go Panthers! Way to show those silly Georgia teams how it is DONE this weekend!

That's all.

Here I am, I am. Movin' at fast speeds.

Happy Two Year Anniversary to Moi et New York!

That's right. At this time precisely two years ago, I was crammed in a van somewhere around Jersey, waiting to arrive in New York and start my new life! And now, here I am. A supervisor of a growing company. Full of life and friends. And fears. And questions. Not at all wanting the things I once did, but somehow replacing old dreams with shiny new hopes. Still learning to live by doing instead of dreaming. A veritable master of the subway and cheap eats inside an expensive city. Capable of functioning solo. Happier and more well-adjusted than I ought to be (or ever thought possible).

And still, not at all aware of or concerned with what tomorrow holds. Will I make it to three years? Only time will tell. I make no promises. Only wishes. And at this point, I don't even know what I'm wishing for anymore which only leads me to believe I must be doing something right. Life's a little more fun when you're living beyond your own imagination.

Happy two years, baby. Thanks for putting up with me. (That goes quadruple for those who join me inside this city's limitless boundaries.)

Everything is exactly what it seems.

This morning, I am awake and here to greet you with a radical new thought.

Nothing is quite the catastrophe I try to make it out to be. This world's going to keep turning, and the horseshit of yesterday will probably be forgotten by this time next week.

I need to find a good yoga and meditation class.

/drama.

Who am I to say this situation isn’t great when it’s my job to make the most of it?

I’ve been quiet because I really only like to use this here blog to weave a little silliness into all your lives. And I haven’t been feeling very silly lately. I’ve been feeling very lost. Very confused. Very abused. Very broken. Very pathetic. Very alone. And very VERY aware that this is a space into which I have carved myself so have nowhere to place the blame. Blast! That last part really does just ruin everything.

First off, I am FINE. Fine. I’m just completely off balance. And do you know what happens when people lose their balance? They spin and they sputter and they scramble and they eventually PANIC, lose control entirely, and fall down. It’s how you handle the next step that makes you who you are. Me? I crack a stupid joke (probably in a ridiculous accent) and realize the ground is actually kinds of comfortable. I sit for a bit. And then, I eventually get bored, pull the trigger, and fire away at the world again.

(Maybe it’s that final step that needs work?)

Earlier this week, while searching my bookshelf for some pre-bed reading material, my fingers found my journal from college. At first I was amused. Oh, 20 year old Alison, you really did know NOTHING. Somewhere in the middle of it all, a terrible thought attacked. 20 year old Alison actually doesn’t sound much different than 26 year old Alison. And here I thought I’d come leaps and bounds and grown and changed and matured. Nope. Apparently not.

I’m starting to connect the dots in my very own life. Forget rose-colored glasses – I’m taking off the blindfold. And truth be told, I’m not loving what I’m seeing. I’m a little horrified, actually. Somewhere along the way, I developed a me vs. the world mentality. Worse still, I had the audacity to blame the world. Where do you find that line between loving yourself and being completely ill-equipped for change?

Buildings and bridges were made the bend in the wind
To withstand the world, that’s what it takes
All that steel and stone are no match for the air, my friend
What doesn’t bend, breaks.
(Ani DiFranco)

A few months ago, I took an acting class. While working a monologue, my teacher (Jim) began to drill upon the point that I was trying to hard. Pushing. Begging. TELLING they audience how they should feel. Could I just relax? Not force the emotional responses? Could I be Alison the human instead of Alison the actor? I laughed and rolled my eyes, announcing to Jim and the class that this was all a big metaphor for my life. I’d heard it all before.

“Well no offense,” Jim said, “but have you ever thought about listening? Changing?”

What doesn’t bend, breaks. Is this the root of it all? Fluffy Alison, made of steel and stone all along?


There’s so much I want to go into here that I just plain shouldn’t. But suffice it to say, I’m doing a little spiritual research because I think once I get this little soul of mine under control, I have a strong chance of recovery and survival.

Don’t know if you’ve watched me as I simply undress
Half unbuttoned shirt hangs like a flag at half-mast
You see, sometimes I’m a woman
And sometimes, a mess.
(Lindsey Horne)



I think I've spent far too much time learning to love the wrong reflection.

Time is gonna take my mind and carry it far away, where I can fly.

Things.

1) I love this weather. (Rain aside.) Love love love love love love love. 72 degrees and sunny today? And tomorrow? Yes, please.

2) New York Fashion Week is detrimental to my ordinarily acceptable self esteem. Everywhere I look, there's some tall wispy thing with slim hips, perfect hair and a blank expression.

3) Dinner parties are fun. Especially when your roommate fries okra and everyone talks Southern. Y'all come back now, y'hear?

4) I'm teaching the Brooklyn and the Queens and the Staten Island boys I know to talk Southern. It's really funny to hear their gruff voices say things like "yonder" and "fixin' to." Bless their hearts.


A story.

So, at one of the properties where I work, we maintain all guest requests in an online system. It's a large property with many concierges on board, so it's the easiest way to log Mr. Whatsidoosie's Nobu reservation, Miss Thingamajig's towncar confirmation number, and the So-and-So's theatre tickets. One relatively boring day, a colleague and I discovered the plethora of titles one may assign in the system. Mr. Mrs. The Honorable. Duchess. Princess. King. Sir. Captain. Countess. Etc. Because I have the maturity level of a 10 year old (with a humor level to match), I spent the day assigning guests as all kinds of fabulous things. After I left, a guest came down for confirmation of his dinner reservation at Morimoto. One of my fellow concierges, though in on the joke, printed out the confirmation and handed it to the gentleman. Much to all of our chagrin, I had entered him in as "Lord."

Good news. He laughed.

Do you wonder where the self resides? Is it in your head or between your sides?

Sooooooo. The room came out a little more bach pad than I intended. It's the lighting. A bit TOO dim, and once combined with the curtains...umyeah. So. Something to work on. But still a marked improvement.

See?







In other news, My Best Friend's Wedding is a terrible movie for TBS to play right now. Everyone knows I can't not watch it. And it combined with the current state of affairs in my love life, the leftover Chinese food, large glass of wine, and ongoing conversation with my cat makes me the world's oldest cliche. Hi. Nice to meet you. I am that girl.

I am a slowpoke. Living in a fast, fast fast world.

My room kicks ass. The drab beige and brown (with black furniture - what WAS I thinking?!?!) has been transformed to black, white, purple, and pink. But in a hot, adult way. Swear.

Trouble is, it's 3:30 in the morning, I've been working since 10 PM last night, and I am STILL not done. I'm going to bed now. I have to work tomorrow. And Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

But with any luck, there will be pictures soon.

Seriously. Kickass. Come visit?

There's beauty in the breakdown.

I haven't updated much because I've been a lovely combination of sleep deprived and completely stressed for about 3 weeks now. I guess promotions will do that to you. I think I'm working through the growing pains and should be regaining some sense of normalcy any day now.

Of course, some have been saying that about me for 26 years now, so I of course use the phrase "sense of normalcy" as lightly and un-absolutely as possible. But. Normal for me. Which is still chaotic but never boring.

I'm sitting here looking at my bedroom and trying not to cry. This is what it looked like when I moved in.

Now, just picture it with the dresser on the other side of the room. And lots of clothes and clutter on the floor.

So yesterday, my friend Megan mentioned she had control of her parents' SUV and a desire to go to IKEA. Sign me up! As a result, I have been awake since 7:30 this morning, taking measurements and drooling over all the pretties on the website. Come 2 o'clock this afternoon, I will descend upon the (still relatively new) Brooklyn location, and probably stay until they kick me out come 10 PM. And then I will spend the rest of the night and all of tomorrow cleaning, tossing, scrubbing, re-organizing, and overhauling this pitiful place's entire look. Expect Holy Hotness pictures come Saturday morning. I'm going to HGTV/Extreme Home Makeover/Trading Places the hell out of my room. You're totes jeals. I know.

IKEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IMMA COMIN'!!!!!!

Nice work if you can get it. And if you get it - won't you tell me how?

Picture-whore that I am, I tend to leave my camera at home and rely on my phone to capture the points of hilarity that seemingly abound in this crazy place. I was just cleaning off my phone and discovered some moments of late I had failed to share.

Now, I really do need to get a "real" picture of this.

I cannot figure out WHY anyone is paying actual money to run this campaign. There's no fine print anywhere. No company name, no nothing. The ad is exactly what it appears to be in this extraordinarily bad picture - a poster advertising pills you take to turn into Kanye. (And these ads are ALL OVER the subways, too.) If some poor little rich kid is just looking for a way to burn through a stack of cash and have a chuckle, I'd be glad to help think of some much funnier, better ways.


And because I like to make fun of terrible word choices...

...why did no one point out that "Liquid All" may have been a better choice? Man. I should have gone on a beer run and argued that the sign outside said "All Liquid" and that beer is in fact a liquid. Smartypants.


FINALLY! WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!

This is no aisle view of Hot Topic. Nope. Just my friendly neighborhood Duane Reade. Helping me dye my hoo-ha.


Also, Elizabeth chopped all my hair off yesterday.

It would look cuter had I not had to haul my cute self on and off of 3 trains and then walk an additional 15 blocks before finding a way into Manhattan this morning. Ah, public transportation. I pretty much hate you. The silly part is that just yesterday, I was giving the F train an imaginary pat on the back for more frequent, less crowded trains.


Speaking of train-wrecks, I'm seeing A Tale of Two Cities: The Musical tonight.

Obla-di-obla-da life goes on brah! lala how the life goes on.

I mean, I don't even know how I could even entertain the notion of leaving a city in which parties like this take place.




Last night was the perfect cap to an absolutely chaotic and ridiculous week. And as a result, I have done little but sit on my butt and giggle today.

You're everything I think I need, here on the ground

An excerpt from my personal journal:

Set me free.
Leave me be.
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am.
And I stand so tall, just the way I am supposed to be.
(Sara Bareilles)

...I currently have no gravity. I belong to nothing and no one. For the first time in my life, no one holds my heart but me. I don't mind, but I'm learning it's quite the tremendous weight to bear. Who knew?


Tonight, I stood in front of the mirror in naught but the slip that I (willingly) wore under my dress. I washed my face with cold cream instead of clearasil, because I'm noting it needs the moisture nowadays. I giggled at the grey hairs that I will no longer try to cover. Somewhere, I believe I finally left girl and found woman. But I didn't notice until tonight.

Two days ago, I was panicking at my lack of gravity. I've now found it, and it's got me centered in New York for the time being. While grappling with the concept that I might not be moving to Charlotte anytime soon, it's become apparent that I'm responsible for turning out of my own tailspin and landing safely, here on the ground. And I've had to face the difficult fact that I seemingly hit "pause" on my own life when I moved to New York and only ever viewed this time as a brief intermission. Maybe it's time to resume play and admit that my life might actually be happening. Here. On the ground.

It's been a long week. Lots of changes, y'all.

Twiddle-dee-dee, twiddle-dee-dum, Look out baby, cause here I come...

...or Hey, remember that time I auditioned for American Idol?, Part deux.

2:30AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Alarms start ringing. Sure, Irene and I are excited, but no one is excited to wake up THAT early. There's a lot of shuffling around and spraying of hairspray and general grunting. Irene is brave enough to apply makeup, but I know better than to try and correctly apply eyeliner before the sun is up.


4AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Bags packed and we're ready to go! See?



4:30AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
After some very excellent streets of NYC navigating a la moi, thankyouverymuch, we arrive at Port Authority to collect our new friends. I have to say - I grew to LOVE these two and cannot now imagine the experience without them.


5AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
We arrive, just as we're told. And sit in traffic for an hour and a half. But that's ok! The Fab Four takes this time to sing, chat, and really get to know one another. So. We're completely content.



6:30AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
OUT OF THE CAR! DOWN TO GATE A! And the scene you can imagine is pretty much exactly what you expect. Like a cracked out, hyped up version of the cafeteria scenes from Fame, there are groups of people singing, dancing, showing off, and doing whatever it takes to capture the attention of the cameras milling around. It's hilarious and I cannot stop smiling.




8:15AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Doors open! In we rush! (Which is a little ridiculous, seeing how seats are already assigned, but whatevs.) One of the producers proceeds to warm us up and "teach" us the songs we are to sing for the crowd shots. The next two hours are spent screaming for the camera, waving for the camera, jumping up and down for the camera, chanting for the camera, and singing for the camera. I have to say, to get 20,000 people to sing together in an auditorium was a major feat. We done good.


Somehow, I doubt this view will make it onto tv.


Oh! And Jordin Sparks came! But did not sing! But whatever, baby got back, and I like that.


And then, some guy came out and proposed to his Baby Mama. (No, seriously. Kids in tow.) I noticed she made it through to the next round - wonder if she can actually sing.

11AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Finally, done singing Get Ready and Hit Me With Your Best Shot. As the production team, sets the stage, I decide to head for the bathroom. Apparently, so did everyone else.


At this point, another producer comes out and explains the process. 12 booths line the floor, each with at least one producer, some with two. Other producers float by as they hear good things. You sing, one at a time, in groups of four. You may be asked to sing something different. You will then either move to a holding room which starts the next round of auditions, or you will be dismissed. You will have your wristband cut off and make your way to the "non-winners" exit. (Because on American Idol, there are no losers.) Once out, you cannot gain access back in.
And if you make it, you will have another couple rounds of auditions with executive producers before you ever see the likes of Simon, Paula, and Randy.

11:30AM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
AND WE'RE OFF! The first two groups were contest winners from local affiliate stations. Damn. They were good. They were BRILLIANT and only a couple made it through. This is seriously cut-throat, y'all!



1PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
The "I'll do anything to get on tv" ridiculousness begins.

Snow White came.

Snow White went.


Seacrest In! And Out!


3PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Apparently, a hot guy in a speedo still makes for good tv.


4PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
Good Lord, costume ignored, this girl's mouth is HUGE.


5PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
We're getting close. And antsy. At this point, we've all been sitting and watching some gross cries for attention make their way to the next round while some abundantly talented, gorgeous, and authentic people have been sent for the "non-winners" exit. It's so intimidating that I can't even begin to put it all into words. I decided to attend the audition for the fun and experience of it all. But then you get there and you start to think "what if I can do this?" And frankly, I wouldn't have even tried if a piece of me didn't think I had it in me. So I'm there, trying to not get bogged down in the negative energy that comes with watching amazing people get dismissed. It's not about them. It's about me, and what I can bring to the table.

Also, I'm officially in love with this guy.


Also, FOR THE LOVE, PEOPLE, STOP SINGING WHITNEY HOUSTON'S I HAVE NOTHING. I swear to you, 1 out of every 10 people sang this song.

7PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
My group is finally up. After the Fab Four has one final run through for one another, we all get into our seats and begin to make our way down to the auditions. For all the hours I spent waiting, this portion seemed to take no time at all.

7:30PM, Tuesday August 19, 2008
I'm up. I take my place in front of my producer. I give him good eye contact, smile my best smile, remember proper breathing, and just sing. Not hard, not fast, not loud, not overdone. Just my voice. Out in the world, and right to him.

And I don't make it to the next round. But you know what? I did well. I wouldn't have changed a thing about my performance. So if I wasn't right being Alison just as she is, then I can live with that.


(There's more to the story, but for now I must get to my real world job. That's the funny thing about all this. Some people complain that dreams get in the way of life. I think that life gets in the way of dreams. But that's ok. That's life.)