dissimulate \dih-SIM-yuh-layt\, transitive verb:
To conceal under a false appearance.

So she took the things that were hardest to grasp, and she held them in her pocket.
And suddenly death told a joke
And suddenly life was all a hoax
And maybe existence was…

That is what she said, so she took the things that were easiest to catch, and she blew them into the wind.
And suddenly love was running away
And suddenly her muse was longing to stray
And suddenly she remembered that day…

Just because the piano whines, her day was better, the ivory felt pain more than she ever would.

Annoying like a scratched record, playing off beat, but she still danced.

And she could have fixed it, but sometimes life’s just better if you let it play.
Or maybe a good kick was all it needed…

Banal leakage causes the worst of spills.

In everything we do, we are just trying to avoid death. Hurt, pain, and agony are not far behind…but the crux of survival is based on thwarting death's efforts.
So it doesn’t matter what you drive
So it doesn’t matter what you wear
So it doesn’t matter who you know
Death knows where you live.

In everything we do, we are just trying to find love. Passion, romance, and emotions are not far behind… but the nub of existence is based on finding “the one”.
So it doesn’t matter what you do
So it doesn’t matter how you look
So it doesn’t matter where you go
Love teaches you how to give.

In everything we do, we are just trying to know self. Religion, aspirations, and fulfillment are not far behind… but the essence of life is based on completing your soul.
So it doesn’t matter who you read
So it doesn’t matter what cause you fight
So it doesn’t matter where you look
Self’s esteem will tell you if you’re right.

And maybe death is too complicated to understand
And maybe love is taking a stand
And maybe self is to life as pancakes is to sand…

mazy \MAY-zee\, adjective:
Resembling a maze in form or complexity; winding; intricate;
confusing; perplexing.

This is the reason why… seething, boiling, fermenting
I didn’t sign up for this
So I am here, and it’s not too much to say that I am pissed
And it’s not too much to say bliss was dissed
And it’s not too much to say I get the f*cking gist

This is how animosity was built.
Sleep.
Because you did SO much today, because you worked SO hard today, because you fought SO long today.
I didn’t sign up for this
And for me it’s over
And for me it’s concluded

Convoluted.

Maybe it’s over… reaction
But it’s not.
Because I see a pattern here, and as we all know, random is just more interesting.

I didn’t sign up for this
So when Abrupt stops by and says it’s the end, perhaps the honeymoon is over
Because I don’t want it to be
And I don’t want to see
And I don’t want to agree

So I’m giving Up
Because Down doesn’t receive well
No such thing as small arguments
Just small actors

I’m finished…

Curtain closed.
(… and that is how I was feeling at that moment)

FACT: I drove all the way up to Rhode Island to see Dave Mathews & Friends in concert on Saturday December 14, 2003
FACT: Dave’s stalker (insert Daisy here) and I are going to see Dave Mathews AGAIN at The Garden on Wednesday

And maybe they were famous… trying to fill life with their void, so I looked Life in the eyes, and I asked him for a nickel. I think he expected change. That was the catalyst…

Fame.

He was on stage. And he didn’t feel, and he didn’t ask, and he didn’t

They regarded him as messiah-like, as he played. He sang. And just because his talents surpass some, or many, or most, a savior he became.
And what is it about self that makes us think others are better
And cooler
And stronger
And…
Maybe the rehab in your mind replaced the rehab in his soul.
Or maybe they just wanted escape
Or maybe they just wanted exhilarate
Or maybe they just needed.
So they looked to him
And as much as he was on bottom, they thought it to be top, because they have nothing else, and they have no one else, and they have…
Perhaps a hug was all they needed.

But he plays, and it’s for them, and it’s for him, and it’s for us and it’s for you, or maybe it’s just what gets him through the day.

Let me totally refrain from being me.

Life’s quest has sent me on a journey. Or maybe the stars are just in alignment
Feeling good
Ms. Under Stood, so she wouldn’t be glanced Over

So I am out and about with The Hustle
And bustle
Or maybe it was more like the dance.

…and sometimes life throws you an oven mitt
…and sometimes life grows you another hitch
…and sometimes life is full of kitsch

but not today.

So I am here, Life. I am taking it all in.
Life, get your fingers out of my pudding.
Life, finger-paint me a smile
Life, put the finishes touches on my painting.

Or maybe that duty was meant for…

Apt as it may seem…the stars began to lean
And I was this-ing
And I was that-ing

Aesthetic won’t be missed
Mediocre might get pissed
Forthright arranged a tryst

lollygag
paper bag
cartoon tag

and then I remembered that song, it went like this…

Torrid musings return
Sudden fusing
A flash of:

Was it that I learned
Or yearned
Or kerned…provided space between, that is.

Fallen like the angels
Detached like fables
Spinning like dreidels

And it has got me thinking
And it has got me sinking

Conventional is not my bliss
Nuances fear of amiss
Maybe it was just his…

In my head like brains
On my mind like insane
Crazy, like inane

…Banal just retired.

A glance at Chance was born one day
When two souls danced, and Fate was at bay
Trials of Eden
Esteem of Freud's Id
Throw Caution to the dogs
Instead of the wind.

Like a song on the radio
When you don't know the words
The wind played a card game
And his poker face showed.

Seek is to find, and find is to reap
Melodrama in the form of Passion's first kiss.
Loneliness and Sorry just climbed a tree
and Laughter's first crush, was married to Happily.

Or maybe Chance is just a middle name.

The worlds got me thinking….
Do you think God cares if you eat meat?
Or that you wear black?

When I say “God”, I mean god, Allah, Krishna, Triton, Aliens, or whatever deity/entity you choose to believe created your existence. Hm. So my interest was sparked when I let a woman cut in front of me at the fabric store. She was Jewish. And forgive me for being uncultured, but I do not know what sect of Jew to categorize her as being. She had on a hat with a wig sewn in, and a dark dress that went down to her black shoes. She looked almost ghostlike as she stood there, pale as the moon. And I had to wonder…

So there is this divine being that created us, and if you’re Christian, your life is to serve him, and if your Jewish your life is to (fill in the blank), and if you’re Muslim your life is to (fill in the blank). So you’re depriving yourself of the delicious carcass of an animal, do you think God thinks more of you? Or you decide that you need to pray twelve times a day, based on the tribes of Israel, do you think (insert divine deity here) wants you to sit at its (his, hers, theirs, whatever’s) right side? So you build your whole life around believing (insert divine deity here) wants you to be uncomfortable, and not shower, and not speak, and not work, and not shave, and not eat, and not sleep, and not reap, and not keep, and not be…but what does God gain?

Perhaps the greatest truth is the one you’re not looking for. Or even better, the truth isn’t even the focus. Maybe it’s...

Life perpetuates in the name of religion, which is the mother of invention and the 2nd cousin to mediocrity… is that fallacy?

You’re seething already.

Maybe it was all in my head…
Have we met?
no regrets, no frets
It was magic

We spoke, we joked… like two kids in a candy store shaped like a jug… handle.

Hours drifted, memories lifted, spice of life gisted
POOF
He was gone.

Or maybe imagination doesn’t know when to quit
And the conversation was amiss
But perhaps my soul never intertwined with his.

Tango music cut short
No time for retort
Life’s new journey abort…FIZZ

Day. Dreams like…
Reciprocate’s mate fell short of Unrequited.

Or maybe it’s the phone ringing, and not my head

Give me a moment to bask in the glow of my singledom…

Curtain Open.

Nashville…A Drinkin’ Town With A Football Problem

FACT: I was in Tennessee for the long Thanksgiving weekend.
FACT: I now know that I enjoy fried pickles, fried onions, and fried cheesecake.
FACT: My arteries, pores, and clothes do not enjoy fried pickles, fried onions, nor fried cheesecake.
FACT: I am now a registered volunteer EMT.
FACT: I am making all of my Christmas presents this year.
FACT: I am attending the Jets vs. Titans game on Monday at Giants Stadium.

I am going to take a walk in the night zephyr, hate to leave you hanging like this, but methinks I need a little wonderin’ time.

Tomorrow is another day…
Curtain Close.

He called, right. And I’m not quite sure how long we spoke, but the hours seem to drift away when our souls meet. He just might be the sexiest man alive. He just might have had my heart for two years. He just might continue to be a person I can truly connect with…
He wanted to surprise me, right. And he called to say he was about to leave to come up to visit.

I had plans.

He just might have come to steal my heart back. He just might have made my vacation go by too quickly. He just might be the only person I would have seen for the next couple of days.

I’m glad it didn’t happen.


And I still think he’s wonderful
And I still think he’s gorgeous
And I still think he’s perfect…
But not for me.

So I must be on a roll tonight.

I thought, right. And I’m not quite sure how long I thought, but the hours seemed to drift away when my soul ponders. I might just be the pickiest girl on earth. I just might have turned down all propositions for relationships for the last year. I just might continue to be the only person I can truly connect with…
I surprise myself. And I think of how many times I really like a boy. I mean really LIKE a boy. And I can’t say I have met anyone that has swept me off my feet.

Not yet.

Or maybe it’s because I’m not looking. Or maybe it’s because I’m not ready. Or maybe I just like being alone.

But I think the problem is Mr. Spectacular doesn’t exist.

… and I won’t settle for less than spectacular.

And she thought…
the last leaf that stands, it is really the stronger?

he belongs to no one, not even himself.

he owns no one, not even himself.

She belongs.

To know one, not.

Even herself, she owns.

No one.



Not.



Even her...self.

Methinks he just made me smile, more than a little

And as she toyed with the notion…

The butterflies in her stomach began to dance.



He jeers

He sneers



Her heart appears in the distance:



I AM ALPHA’S HEART… (the monologue begins)

AND I’M HIP TO THE TIMES

AND I’M HIP TO THE RHYMES

AND I’M DIGGIN’ HIS LINES.



End quote.

Invisible Girl
to the world she’s
just…

she stalks
she balks
she walks

invisible.

Your speaking of her
Your reeking of her
Your freaking cause of her

But she watches.

She’s taking it in
Her world is light-years away.

And you still think you have a chance?

So she is staring
So she is glaring
So she is daring

You thought it was about you, you thought it could be true
but that’s just her way of
coping.

Another
Laugh
Pummels
Her
Angst.

She was me, she is me, she will be me…
invisible

The mirror keeps looking at me

And it’s sad at times

And it’s happy at times

And it’s crazy at times

But it stares.



Move with me

Groove with me.



That is what the mirror says

Even though its eyes are read (or red).



But it dares.



I smile

It smiles back

I beguile

It beguiles back

I’m in denial

It’s telling me not to snap.



So I yelled at it, I wished it away

But the mirror doesn’t move, the mirror just stays

And I see it staring

As it always does

And I see it wondering

What is, what was.

It bares.



All.



The mirror keeps looking at me

And it’s ecstatic at times

And it’s robotic at times

And it’s fantastic at times

But it stares.

Happy like one thousand cannibals in a village of me…
That’s what it's like

So I can’t sleep, right, but deprivation is bliss.
Everything is a carbon copy, of a carbon copy, of a carbon… do you copy?
Was it down with the funk, or up with the swing
Shake-spears, like writing
Or mediocrity.

And maybe my late night rendezvous was worth it
And maybe my midday walk was amiss

Like dinosaurs in your stomach…because butterflies got first dibs

Alpha The Great can’t sleep…even her muse is suffering.
And I suppose you think it’s because of you?
Love, you are stepping on my foot.
Love, your shirt is un-tucked.
Love, your shoes are too big.
Or perhaps I’m just bored.

So me and my best bud “insert Daisy here” are all drinking… chilling… singing… talking about past loves, past likes, past…

And she busted her ass on the floor -insert alcohol here-, -insert drunk Daisy breaking her arm here-

We volunteered today at a Chocolate Festival in the boonies:
Hottie count = 2, including us = 4
Chocolate pieces consumed = 3
Blueberry port consumed = 1
Pizza consumed = 2
Coffee consumed = 3
Chocolate cake consumed = 1
Bottles of wine consumed = 1 and ½
Marvelous dinners Alpha The Great cooked = 1
Number of times Pandora’s box had nothing in it = 1
Number of times Pandora’s box has something in it = 1
Number of times Daisy drew the line (because Alpha talks a lot of sh*t) = 5
Number of boundaries Alpha The Great crossed = -insert infinity here–
Number of awkward moments caused by Alpha The Great at Daisy’s expense = 4,250
Number of times Daisy dreamt of Drew Bennett = 69
Number of times Alpha The Great dreamt of Andrew Lincoln (from Love Actually) = 96

So yeah, enjoy…
WHAT?

12:23am. She can’t sleep. She sees a re-occurring pattern here. She finds herself pondering more oft than not. She thinks her existence is a conundrum of mind boggling wonderment. She reflects.
She loves life
She loves love
She loves…
Or maybe she’s forgotten how to.
She is an open book, straightforward, unabashed. She doesn’t regret, she’s not embarrassed, she is all she has got.
She will put herself out on the line, for you, the audience… she doesn’t mind.

Brazen as she is, she doesn’t mind speaking of love, or her lack thereof. She’s ready. Love, get your lazy ass out of bed and cook me breakfast. Love, get your dirty socks off of the couch and tidy up the bedroom. Love, get your filthy feet off the coffee table and write me a poem.

So she meets people all the time, right, because she has “that type” of personality. She talks to everyone, but could it be that not one peaks her interest? I think she needs balance. Ying to her yang, zig to her zag, pep to her step. Or maybe she’s just me.

“Do you want to kiss me?” That is what I asked. No particular reason why I asked, I didn’t think about it. It’s one of those things that just comes out of your mouth, and you’re not quite sure why, or what it means, or what you might do pending on the answer. But I asked nonetheless. I’m not sure what he was thinking, or why he thought I wanted to know, but that is not what this is really about. I persisted. He abstained. The answer required a simple “yes” or “no”, but in that moment, the possibilities were endless. It would have been different if we hadn’t kissed before –we have–. It would have been different if we hadn’t just kissed the moment before I asked –we had–. For some reason, that is what I was wondering at that moment, and for that moment it was the only thing that mattered. Then it was like I needed an answer, and it didn’t matter if the answer was yes or no, but I needed to know.

But I think he gets me, you know. He never asks why, or he never says that’s weird, or he never says your crazy (well sometimes). Life is kind of like that…
He abstained.
I think its better off that way.

She sat at her computer thinking. She pondered creating a short story, a story that reflected her soul through the characters of others. “Maybe I’ll write a short story about a 24-year old woman sitting at her computer trying to find her muse to create a short story,” she said to herself out loud. She remembered she had other plans that night. So she sang instead.

So, I guess I will bring us back to reality for a moment. It’s been a while since I have written anything coherent enough for most audience types.

--the audience does not know who “I” is--

That’s how my mind works, you know. I have no certain pattern of thoughts, random is even too structured to explain the way thoughts enter my mind. One moment I’m thinking of a story about a peanut that travels the world, and in the next breath it’s what type of detergent garbage men/women use. You noticed that I wrote garbage men/women, well that was a conscious decision on my part. I actually wrote garbage men first, then I used that little key we call “Backspace” to recall the letters, ever so eloquently. It almost looks like the cursor is dancing. Dancing with the letters of the alphabet. You see! That is what I am talking about, never full thought processes, always jumping to the next; there must be some type of condition for people like she.

That is what she started typing on her computer screen. She was typing about the here, about the now… forget about past events, forget about future occurrences that might just be… she was writing about this moment.

--Excerpt from “The World According To Me” By Alpha N

Ode To My Record Collection (and other reasons why I am not at work)

Off the wall
Here’s to doing MY thing
Be, I think not, I think so, I’m thinking.

She’s so unusual
That’s fresh and they’re back
Help your imagination
Be Super…fly like hip cats
I, who have nothing
And you that exist
It be HOT at times
Like today’s greatest hits.

And then they danced...
Because sometimes their mood was blue in hue
And sometimes the gray was used in lieu
And always they seemed to have a muse
Even when it rained.

They felt like crimson
Or maybe brown
As their feet floated
Across the ground.


Lovely.

But they didn't know how
And they didn't know why
But they decided to dance
Instead of to cry.

I am about to head out to a party tonight, but before I bid adieu, I shall provide you with the weekend count (Friday to Saturday early-evening):


# of parties I attended at the French Consulate = 1
# of words I understood when French people were speaking = 3
# of glasses of champagne I consumed = 4
# of bites I ate out of the jelled bile-looking dish at the Consulate = ½
# of cheeses/spreads I tried = 5
# of cheeses/spreads I enjoyed = 0
# of people waiting outside NBC studio for Saturday Night Live tickets at 9:30pm = 43
# of kids I kept occupied at my niece’s 4th birthday party = 9
# of times I was sneezed on, coughed on, or used as a tissue = 27
# of games I made up for the kids to play = 5
# of times I thought about how great life is = 54
# of times I sat by myself reflecting = 13
# of boys that called me = 7
# of girls that called me = 9

So, I gave it a chance. I watched “The Bachelor” for the first time. Seriously, I feel like my soul needs to vomit. Three hotter than average chicks vying for some less than ok looking guy, desiring his affection as he is given the chance to make out with them all. Reality? I think not. I am wondering where the networks find these crying-wining girls who’s lives depend on finding Mr. Right. After a few weeks BAM! They are in love! Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of joke! You probably don’t even know his middle name! And you have the balls to go on national television professing your love to some guy you don’t even know. Um, get a hobby. Sheesh. This is why I don’t watch television.

As I watch the overly-dramatic finish to the show, I feel like I am being aurally raped. I cannot believe I just wasted 20 minutes of my existence watching various people who barely know each other lock lips. This is why Americans have such a distorted view of relationships. This is why Americans have such a twisted view of love. This is why divorce is more common than bubble-gum ice cream. I am embarrassed for the network, for the contestants, for the people who are watching (yeah, that’s me).

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK… I don’t think so.

Always the first…
Mover.
Shaker.
Wish you would stop…
Liar.
Faker.
Pretending to be…
Enthusiast.
Maker.
And then there was me…
Creative.
Taker.

Glaze over like rolls
Eyes filled with cold
Low and behold

tourIsm UNFOLDS

Or maybe you’re mistaken.

And I thought in that one moment… what would it be like to pick up and leave this place. To just walk out, leaving all behind. No regrets. No apologies. I imagine it would be harder if I had something tying me down. Anything tying me down. And I hoped it wouldn’t be like this when I was tied down. But we all know that I would do it anyway. No regrets. No apologies.

Alpha is an island.

Plummeting
No regrets
The leaves they fall
Their eyes are wet

Let go.
Holding on… so long.
They try
They die
They sigh

But maybe life is just like them
But maybe life is not your friend
But maybe life is not the end

They change
They arrange
They are estranged

And we think it’s beautiful
Death.
We think it’s right
Death.
We think it’s normal
Death,
But the leaves, they cry.

…and I’m thinking too much
…and I’m feeling his touch
…and…

…youmeethimright,andyournotsurewhatyouthink,andyournotsurewhatyoufeel,
butyoufeelsomething,andyouthinksomething,andyouknowitsbeenawhile,since
aboylastmadeyousmile,causemaybethat’sjustnotyourstyle,soyourinthecomfortable
zone,notsureifyouralone,digginghisvibeandtone

…and maybe that’s enough
…and maybe life is such
…and…

Psychosomatic–
Appointment’s miss
journeys first kiss
get my gist
it’s all in the “census”

Psycho-some-addict–
Schedule’s diss
pilgrimage got nixed
feel my tiff
it’s all in the “senses”

Psyche-o-sum-attic–
Meeting’s pissed
travel is bliss
see how I tick
it’s all in the “cents is”

CHALLENGE THEM ALL
TAKE ON THE WORLD
TRAVEL LIGHT
A BIT OF SLIGHT
TRICKERY
DEBAUCHERY
OR MAYBE I’M JUST IN LOVE WITH ME.
FALLEN STAR
BROKE HIS ARM
ON THE WING OF THE ANGEL
WHO LANDED FIRST?
CRYING DOVE
FOUND ITS MUSE
BUT NOW HE IS LOST
SWALLOWING GULP
ORANGE PULP
HUMBLE FINDS
THIS CRAYON IS MINE
WITHOUT A BOX
YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME
YOU THINK YOU FEEL ME
BUT HOW COULD YOU
WHEN I DON’T KNOW.
MYSELF.
OR MAYBE I AM IN LOVE WITH ME.
LIFE IS THE PERPETUAL LOVE
OF FEELING
BLUE…
IS NOT THE ONLY COLOR
OR MAYBE
I AM JUST IN LOVE.
WITH…

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.
I’m venting.
VENTING I SAY!
Life has been busy, but the stars have not been in alignment this week. I sing, I dance, I work.
9-5.
That is the problem these days.
Here’s what I want to say:
I know you are hurting
I know you are frightened
I know you are searching…
But enough already.
I’m sick of the drama people try to instill in my life.
Your boyfriend’s issues
Your wife’s issues
Your kids’ issues
Your issues.
I DON’T GIVE A SH*T
… did you hear me?
I DON’T GIVE A SH*T I SAY.

Someone just died, someone is being tortured, someone is forced to work under extreme harsh conditions for crap wages, someone just lost their rights, someone just lost their mind…and you’re complaining about the weather.

You just want to yell WAKE UP at the top of your lungs.
Forget about a hug, you need a LIFE!

I am not sure you get my sense of humor
I am not sure you get my sense of style

That’s me, stress free, so stop trying to tell me why you suck.
And that pretty much sums up my day today.

cOrporate aMerica
Narcissistic go ballistic
self esteem, lucid dream
scandalmongers “here no evil”
hedonism has its boundaries
its all in the senses.

blue pill, yellow pill, purple pill
freeze
eLending eBusiness eConomy
sleaze.

cents are lost
pillows are tossed
harassment is boss
leave it in a paper trail.

Plagiarize,
hypnotize,
manure reaps flies
or was it coffee?

Founding fathers
Why bother
They found the dream.
American.

All in a date
Meet your fate
Mother Earth’s soul mate
Was found on the Internet

Intrinsically good
Lower your hood
White veils misunderstood
The chain is really white gold.

Work astute
Life in pursuit
Of happiness is moot
Meet about meetings.

Make a copy
Backup on this floppy
Handwritings getting sloppy…


human contact is overrated.

This girl she grew up lovely
And she didn’t know what it was like to be normal
And she didn’t know what it was like to be square
And she never saw what it was like to be like you
But she grew.

Ricki Lake…

Who can refuse a day of unorganized chaos, cheesy topics of discussion, and a ghetto (I mean REALLY ghetto) audience? Hm. Well I suppose I can. I had the luxury of receiving an invitation to appear on the Ricki Lake show, titled “The Ultimate Catch”. The gist of the show is 10 ‘supposedly’ hunky guys vying for the “Ultimate Catch” title by competing in different areas of skill, including looks, skill, dancing, and overall personality. My role was to explain why my friend Kevin* (*DISCLAIMER: the names of people have been changed for protection purposes) was such a great catch.

Alpha The Great Keeps It Real: Did I mention that the 10 hopefuls were a sappy group of short men that did not know how to dress, speak, or carry themselves, with children, living at home, and oh yeah, NOT CUTE.

FACT: Ricki Lake is a stocky, average-looking woman who should have been pulled off the air years ago.
FACT: Ricki Lake has a predominantly black and Hispanic audience, which in my opinion, does not play to her advantage.
FACT: People love to make fools of themselves, but I opted out of this opportunity.

A town car picked me up from my apartment and wisped me away to the Park Central Hotel in Manhattan last night. I had a room to myself on the 15th floor, a block from Times Square. I walked, I schmoozed, I hung out with some friends. The Limo came at 10:45 the next morning (today) to drive me to the studio. NOTE: I felt so cheesy coming out of a limo at the studio in front of a line of people clamoring to be the studio audience for the show.

I sat in a purple room for about 2 hours, eating, drinking, and talking with the other guests (SEE ALSO: sisters, mothers, friends, etc. of the 10 hopefuls CARBON COPY: Aspiring Actors/Actresses, People Looking For A Free Flight To NY, People With No Jobs). I got my make-up done by a professional make-up artist, I talked to producers, interns, security guards and one thing seemed eminent: no one enjoyed their job, no one was excited about what they were doing, no one smiled.

I got a bad vibe.

I don’t usually get bad vibes about anything, but I could tell that the show was going to be corny and that I didn’t match the personality types of the uneducated others on the panel.

I opted not to go on the show.

Alpha The Great Keeps It Real: People who don’t mind making a fool of themselves on television usually don’t have much going for them in the life department in the first place. I have way too much going… so I bailed.

Kevin brought along another friend who was an aspiring actress. I told them I would prefer not to go on the show. She did instead. (SEE ALSO: They looked like fools. SEE ALSO: I hope the edited version doesn't look as bad as what I saw.)

I could not believe the men that were chosen to compete for such a coveted title, one would think that “The Ultimate Guy” implies well-rounded, educated, and HOT. My friend Kevin was among the best looking guys in the competition (which is not saying much) and he was the candidate most likely to win given the fact that 2 of the other guys had kids, 5 a little less than plain, and a little more than ugly, and 2 were very short and unhealthily chubby.

Well Kevin didn’t win because he cheated on the “strip the lingerie from the blow-up doll with your teeth competition”. Apparently he blatantly used his hands to undress the blow-up doll and when he put the lingerie on himself (also part of the competition) he missed an arm hole.
FACT: Kevin was very upset that the judges voted him off because he cheated.
FACT: Of the three remaining guys in the competition, one was a race-car driver, another was a momma’s boy, and the other was an overweight black guy from California who used his “class clown” tactics to win over the audience.

Thus brings our day to a close. The jovial class clown from California won the competition. First Arnold, now this. Hmph.

The producers asked me if I wanted to try out for the “The Ultimate Female Catch” which they were taping for in a few weeks.

I declined.

I gathered my things and was once again wisped away in a town car. DESTINATION: home.

TIDBITS:
I cannot imagine a more uneducated, obnoxious, and weird-looking crowd than that of what I witnessed on the set of Ricki.
I received $50 cash, a free night in NY, networking with some great people, and a full day’s pay compensation (of what I would have made had I gone to work that day) for being on the show. I guess they didn’t get the memo…

So that’s that. Kind of long winded, but hey, it’s my world.
Nothing gained, nothing lost.

It’s been a while, no time to recap
Going on Ricki Lake on Wednesday (ON the show = ScArY)
More to come when I get a chance to breathe.
Since when did being popular become a full time job?
until we meet again…

Hm. Let’s talk about this shall we… this whole life thing. Here’s where I’m at:
My goal of staying single for a whole year has been realized (APPLAUSE). It was approximately one year ago that the ex and I called it quits. Not as if staying single for an entire year is some great feat or something, but over the past 6 or so years, I have had a boyfriend more often than not.
Reflection:
Nothing gained.
Nothing lost.
Still not ready to commit.

I told you I wouldn’t leave you hanging with the whole “public masturbation” thing… not too much else to say, either you feel my vibe or you don’t
I’m an artist
(stroke yourself)
I’m and actress
(stroke yourself)
I’m a poet
(stroke yourself)
The public is watching
(stroke yourself)
I’m thinking: Freud’s Id was stolen
Whatever gets you through the day.

I don’t think it’s necessary to explain every action, or every thought, or every detail. This is my world, and if you don’t like it, the next exit will be coming up soon.

I had dinner in a fancy Italian restaurant tonight.
The words: REPULSIVE, SMELLY, and WASTE came to mind.
Never again.

I’m tired, but I guess you know that judging from the fact that it is 8pm, and I am not out gallivanting.
I love the fall… did I mention that yet? Pumpkin ice-cream, maroonbrownyellow, leaves, cider, walking in the night zephyr. Hmph.

I gather that my “half naked millionaire” comment turned some heads… my friends are like “you slept with him???” I guess they missed the memo, and the TWO times (count them TWO) that I said: NOTHING HAPPENED. What type of girl do you think I am? Sheesh. Give me some credit here.

So I’m going to relax tonight, read, ponder, create, the usual.

Waiting for some stimulating conversation. Anyone, Anywhere.

Or maybe I’m just bored.

Christ I...
See
Marriage in your hands
Time spans
Tin cans
Not making noise on my car
But yours.

Fear of bliss
Life's first kiss
Get the gist
Quintessential.

The spinach on your finger suggest
A healthy life.

I’m not partial

Central Park played
Moonlight's gaze
Commitments haze

Make a note
MENtal
I relate
I escape
Pick out drapes

Maybe one shade is enough.


No thanks, I’ll take them all.

FACT: I woke up in the bachelor-pad of a millionaire on Friday morning.
FACT: Alcohol, when consumed in large quantities, has the ability to impair your judgment.
FACT: The double-king size bed I slept in was “phenomenal”.
FACT: The half-naked millionaire sleeping next to me on the king-size bed was also “phenomenal” for letting me invade his world for a day.
FACT: Nothing happened.
FACT: I repeat, nothing happened.

It’s been a while, let’s recap…
Life is a little more than amazing
Boys in my life are a lot more than limited
My apartment is a little less than clean

Monday – Granted a WISH to a very special little girl
Tuesday – took a breather (SEE ALSO: falling asleep in my bathtub)
Wednesday – Dave Mathews Band in Central Park
Thursday – Raul Midon with guest appearance by LaChanze
Friday – eastmountainsouth


STILL TO COME:
Saturday – House warming party, Blondie’s Sports Pub (Tennessee Volunteers Game), Birthday Bash at Lot 61
Sunday – Working!!? Doing some consulting for a coffee bar that is opening (yes, they trust me to guide them in the right direction –scary-)

I took off of work on Friday and stayed in Manhattan
THE PLAN: To have no plan

I walked along
Pondering
Humming

AMONG MY ADVENTURES:
Went into an art gallery, pictures of a black woman with a distorted clown face in all different poses and backgrounds; the artists came up to me and said that I look like an artist myself; I replied that it’s New York, everyone is an artist, and a writer, and an actor, an actress…
She laughed.
We talked about art; I said her artwork appears to be part of an epidemic in New York streets called Public Masturbation.
Yes, Public Masturbation.
The pictures were all of her.
Clown-face black woman dancing
Clown-face black woman singing
Clown-face black woman sitting

It’s great that you love yourself (that is what I said, she laughed again)
I can only assume that she laughed due to lack of a better emotion that I evoked in her.
I sat outside in an Italian restaurant sipping wine
I sat
I was serenaded
I read
I was serenaded
I talked
I was serenaded

I walked.

New York…
The abdomen of coolness
The fetus of self-expression
The fingernail of exposure

I am not sure you get my sense of humor
I am not sure you get my sense of style

So let’s get back to this Public Masturbation thing…
Yes, I am a victim
Yes, I am a culprit
Yes, I am the president.
This website, it falls prey…

I am not sure you get my sense of humor
I am not sure you get my sense of style


Too many adventures to list today, and I am running late. I will delve deeper... promise.

And she talks to herself in her car.
And she dances around her apartment.
And she sings karaoke alone.
And she doesn’t care what you think.
She doesn’t care what you know.

She’s more than happy.

In their suits
Pretending
Pretending
I’m this, I’m that
Gray, Dark Blue, Black
A bruise…
Or a dress code
Reality seeps
Reality reaps
Stuck in their box
4 sides
more lies
occasion rise
too.
Conserve
Energy…stop blowing steam
Con Ed wants your number
Anti-matter
Anti-chatter
Anti-clatter
dEfense mEchanism
E squared = M T
minds.

Today, I take on the world
I dream
I vision
I create

Yesterday, I followed my heart
It knows
It tells
It begins

Tomorrow, I’ll throw chance to the wind
To live
To let
To love

Limbo is a funny state…its border makes you want to run, its lakes give you room to flow, and its fields give you wings to fly.
I’m there
I’m there
I’m there

where are you?

"The falsification of history has done more to impede human
development than any one thing known to mankind"
--Rousseau

At that last second, they thought…



I didn’t say:
Goodbye
I love you
I miss you

I didn’t go:
On that vacation I always wanted to
To my friends barbecue
To my high school reunion

I never finished:
Building that tree house with my family
Making those phone calls to my relatives
Telling my children about the moon

I never started:
Loving
Giving
Living

People die.

It happens all the time
Every day
Every minute
Every second
All over the world


People live.
It happens all the time
Every day
Every minute
Every second
All over the world


And it’s sad, and it’s happy, and it’s frightening, and it’s something, and it’s nothing, and it’s hard, and it’s easy, and it is.
It is

It is


Life…it is.

To all who have…
Struggled
Lost
Strived
Fought
Won
Challenged
Spied
Pained
Grieved
Cried
Thought
Wrote
Gave
Lived
Honored
Bought
Died

For the sake of…
Community
City
State
Coast
Country
Continent
World
Universe
Existence
Life

My heart goes out.

September 11, 2003

I’m at the Yankees game with my co-workers…

And the men are thinking…Derek Jeter is 1 and 3 at the bottom of the 4th

And I’m thinking…I wonder if there is a special cleaning company that washes those uniforms, I mean they probably get really dirty, so I wonder if there is some specific cleaning method to keep them so white

And the men are thinking…Soriani just had another home run

And I’m thinking…those uniforms are a little plain, they need a little spicing up, like tassels, or beads, or little reflectors

And the men are thinking…ump, get a new pair of glasses!

And I’m thinking…they should dye each blade of grass a different color, or plant all kinds of flowers on the field

My world… my curls.

I did it.
½ dozen eggs
½ gal whole milk
Hmstyl Biscuits
I went shopping.
Motts Applesce
Cut Lf Spinach
Stove Top L/S Stffng
All the aisles
All the selection
The hours spent on naming conventions
Trky Gravy
Walnut Acres Baked Beans
Mshrm Gravy
12 different broths
9 different syrup types
Squeezable instant mashed potatoes
Casbah Rice Pilaf
Casbah Bamati Rice
Imagine Porobello Soup
Should I get the blue jelly that taste like banana?
Or the red jelly that looks like a coconut?
Ludbrg Brwn Rice Orgnc
Ground Round 90%
What’s in the other 10%??
Aisles and Aisles of I Wills…
I will eat healthier
I will cut down on carbs
I will exercise a bit harder so I can get the double stuffed mint Oreos with autumn leaves…in time for Fall.
Perdue Chkn Cutlet
Salmon Fillet

ITEM VOID is left to your interpretation.

Walked a mile in his shoes
And my soul was bleeding
Rather live in his world
Than live with
OUT.

Wish I could wish
Thought I could think
Tried not to try

The midnight train just left
Too bad I’m right.

zigged when I should have zagged
hoopin’ when I should have hollered
yinged when I should have yanged

according to me.

What if they told you the truth? That it was all an elaborate setup. Secret societies, aliens, Davinci Code, Elvis, crop circles, Jesus, the Internet, mass media… all of them interrelated. Could you handle it? Knowing that the existence most people base there lives around, their conspiracy theories, government plots, political policies, all of it were just a game.

What would John Jacobson do when he realizes that his existence dedicated to finding life on Mars was all in vain?

How would Shannon Conway feel if her husband’s involvement in a secret society was just the inner workings 1000’s of years of entertainment in the making.

You would be entertained wouldn’t you?

To know the plots, the schemes, the books, the internet sites, the secrets, the phone taps, the time spent, CIA, FBI, the…knowledge. It was all to give us something to do. No basis, no reality, just to keep us busy.

 	To do.

 	To do.  

Maybe this whole life thing is just whatever you make it, nothing more, nothing less.
Is that so hard to grasp?

Theodore Chin just found out crop circles are a hoax. 15 years of evidence flushed. He just went outside to play with his son in the pool.

Lila Lopez was visited by God, who told her Jesus was a symbol. 55 years of devotion crushed. She immediately left to visit her son who married out of his religion, 25 years of silence broken.
P.S. God was a woman.

It’s just that simple.
All the years of research, all the shed blood, all the time consumed, just to find out… life is what you make of it.

Make of conspiracy
Make of deceit
Make of scandal
Reap existence.

Make of celebrities
Make of money
Make of worldly possessions
Reap existence.

Make of God
Make of church
Make of religion
Reap existence

Make of family
Make of friends
Make of a household
Reap existence

Make of life
Make of life
Make of life
Reap yourself, finally.


What is it you REALLY want to do? To be?

Maybe it’s not the money
Maybe it’s not the knowledge
Maybe it’s not the beauty…
Maybe it just is.

Meditate on that one.

...so I'm thinking, how come I never know what I'm eating when I order Chinese food
...so I'm eating, a lunch portion big enough for 3 people
...so I'm singing, Sinatra lounge songs in between bites
...so I'm drinking, enough aspartame and phosphoric acid to remove paint from my car
...so I'm daydreaming, workday is over and I'm shaking my booty on the dance floor

So the ex is all like…why would you put that on the website?
And I’m all like…because I felt like it
And he’s all…oh
And I’m all… so how was your day


So the crush of this week is all like… --insert silence here--
And I’m all like… too bad, I have already moved on to the next one
And he’s all…--insert silence here--
And I’m all…so many men, so little time

So Winamp is all like…I can’t believe you had the nerve to say the things you did
And I’m all…don’t wanna try, don’t wanny try, don’t wanna try no more
And Winamp is all…had to wake up, face reality

So I’m sitting here, eating chicken with nasty sauce (from the can, no flavoring, see previous Blog for further detail), and I’m thinking… --insert Alpha thinking here-- when was the last time I laughed. I mean really really laughed. You know the kind of laugh that makes you double over in stomach pain and your jaws feel like you just had plastic surgery. When was the last time you laughed like that?

It’s 1 am and I can’t get to sleep. I have tried counting milk duds, eating sheep, and reading graffiti, but to no avail.

Still haven’t heard from the fellow I have a crush on this week, not to be confused with the other fellow I had a crush on last week.

My cat hates me. I try and I try to win his affection only to be met with sharp biting teeth and sharp dagger claws.

On another random note, I feel good about staying in this week. I have not gone out for 2 days in a row (a record for me), and I plan on coming home directly after work tomorrow as well.

I am reading a book called "The Hiram Key" about Freemasonry and Masonic Order. Hasn’t yet proved all that interesting, but is a nice break from the horrible book called “The Regulators” that I am reading. I don’t know what it is about books, but I HAVE to read them all the way through, even if I think the story line is miserable/boring. Likewise, I am reading the book du jour without regard to its level of suckiness.

Suckiness is apparently not a word according to Microsoft Word.

Which brings us to our next topic. Turkey Club Sandwiches. I had a wonderful turkey club for lunch. Not to be confused with my dinner which consisted of old noodles that have been sitting in my fridge for weeks, pork-fried rice left over from yesterdays’ Chinese order, generic tomato sauce (you know the one out of the can that Stop & Shop makes, that has no seasoning or flavoring, aka ketchup), and moldy cheese. Seriously, I need to go shopping. I don’t believe in grocery shopping or cooking.

Hm. What else to talk about. I am taking an acting class on Sunday. Going to learn improvisational techniques (as if I am not FANTABULOUS at improv already).

I wonder why no one ever leaves me comments on my Blog. See that “Comments provided by Squawkbox” link. Well that is for leaving me comments, so do it, or else I will… I will…
Going to go try this whole sleep thing. By the way sleep is overrated.

Questions Courtesy of the Harrison Bergeron of Friendster aka Minger

1. On a stroll through the countryside, you come across a field of
delicious-looking strawberries. Your stomach starts to rumble, and
no one else is around. Only a fence stands between a
free lunch. How high is that fence?

For starters, there is no such thing as a free lunch. Secondly, if I am strolling through the countryside, my fat ass would have surely packed a satchel of snacks. Lastly, even if the fence were higher than the Great Wall, I would find a way to get in (SEE ALSO: I am sure I know the promoter who works at the fence).

2. You sneak into the garden and begin to help yourself to the fruit.
How many berries do you eat?

I would first calculate the air pressure drawing in from the left, and multiply that by the wind speed divided by the random thoughts that are passing through my head at that moment minus the number of people eating figs in the world, square that number and add the number 34, thereby ending up with the number… and now a word from our sponsor.

That is all the time we have today folks, tune in next week for the answer!

3. Suddenly the farmer whose berries you're stealing appears out
of nowhere and starts yelling at you. What do you say in your own
defense?

Got any cereal to go with these berries? (As I use my invisi-gun to make myself invisible, thereby thwarting the efforts of my pleasure-stopper).

4. After all is said and done, how did the berries taste? And looking
back, how did you feel after your berry-stealing adventure was over?

As the nice police officer escorts me from the strawberry section of produce, I try to remember what brought me here in the first place. The surveillance video clears up much of my confusion, as I view myself on top of the strawberry display consuming the reddest ripest morsels. The farmer, also known as Jerry Bonson, Manager of Produce, was only doing his job, and for that, I don’t blame him.
P.S. Stop & Shop will never be the same (wink wink)

ACT 1 SCENE 1
Hm. This Labor Day weekend, I feel the need to bring the public what they have asked for. A sort of “Alpha N, live and uncut” if you will.
We are broadcasting form the confines of the game room (self proclaimed game room given its disco-theme backdrop, records galore, and air hockey table). Let’s reflect on this weekend shall we (SEE ALSO: average of 4 hours of sleep for 3 days). An interesting trip to Connecticut to see the ex proved quite fulfilling. I like the fact that I can still maintain contact with the man I spent 2 years of my life with (SEE ALSO: that chapter has been closed, and I’m sure re-reading it won’t be nearly as appealing). And that brings us to the next topic. BOYS. Yes, I said it… boys.

ACT 2 SCENE 1
My life this past year has been delicious to say the least. A cacophony of flirtatious encounters that invites the presence of various arm-candies. I attended a wedding all day today (the longest wedding I have EVER attended, but very fun nonetheless). It crossed my mind several times this evening that I could not be farther away from my own wedding day (SEE ALSO: Alpha fears commitment; SEE ALSO: Alpha flirts way too much).

So what is up with the men and me? Ahem. I hung out with a cutie yesterday after a long night of dancing at Lot 61. Methinks I might have a crush on the fellow, but merely because he seems disinterested, and you all know that is the type of guy I dig most (the audience nods in agreement). It’s one of those fun crushes when you don’t really know who the person is… but we all know that once you find out more about the person, then the crush comes to an abrupt halt (Reality is the mother of Ignorance, and Ignorance has a nickname around these here parts, we call him “Bliss” or “Artificial Buzz” for short). Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I would pursue it even if I were interested. Papi says, “lIsTeN tO rEaSoN…your not even ready to commit to an annual contract with Verizon.”
-- insert Alpha agreeing wholeheartedly here --
You know what would be fun? If I sent him the link to my Blog so he could read this (Ooooh’s and Aaaaaaaah’s can be heard from the audience). Oh EXCITING! I think that is what I will do! (Dear Alpha, I wish you had a little more reticence, and a little less forthrightness. Yours Truly – Embarrassment; Carbon Copy – Rejection)
Well, would you look at the time… I suppose we will have to finish this tomorrow, as my eyes are screaming at me (SEE ALSO: no really, less than 2 hours of sleep last night). More to come including my crushes response, so stay tuned!
Curtain close.

bURLESQUE

Ingenuity has not been sound
A manager of manager’s fate abounds
Performance wears a crown

Evaluation is dullard
Creativity or bust
This young girl has much to say
Sort it
Sordid
I am, I am, I am I said…
I know you want what’s on my mind
Fiasco
Fiesta

bLAmE
Another one bites the crust.
Cat in a cage
My rage
.KNOW YOURSELF.
And that’s how my day was

Hm.

Talkin’
Stalkin’
Walkin’
Follow me.

Fakin’
Stakin’
Takin’
Granted fee.

Forsakin’
Jello-makin’
Shakin’
Anywhere you want to be.

Let’s Tango.

Poetic device is tired
Rhyming is amiss
Poor old Sleep has lost its muse
And insomnia is bliss.
THE OPPOSITE

Mullet's On Parade

I have this little problem,
I am embarrassed to say the least.
Please don’t think that I am crazy
Or have our friendship cease.

It’s kind of hard to tell you
What I am really talking about,
You see I have this issue
That just needs to be brought out.

Deep breath, here goes, don’t hate me
When I tell you the game I play…
I imagine people with mullets
There I said it, I’m not ashamed.

That ragged hairdo was once the height
Of fashion gurus worldwide,
A short spike-top, long scraggly back,
And slicked back hair on the side.

The mullet was quite a statement
So many variations you could see
On females, and males, and kids, and dogs
On him, and her, and me.

Now let’s get back to the problem at hand
It’s really frustrating you see
To imagine all in this eye I spy with a mullet
Might sound crazy.

That bum on the street
The girl in that car
A mullet, a mullet I see.

Oh look, there is a mother with a mullet on her baby!

So now you know of my bizarre obsession
From all these words I have said
While driving, walking, sitting, running
Or laying in my bed.

One mullet, two mullets, there they go
On Hispanics, Asians, blacks and whites.
The mullet does not discriminate
Whether morning, day or night.

So if you want to be down with me
You’re shyness you must shed
Imagine a mullet on me, a mullet on him…
A mullet on top of YOUR head.

I woke up in a dream
My day to day it seemed…but twas not.

I challenged the sky to a fight
And the moon gave up in spite… take my chances.

The sun decided to shine
In ye eye o’ mine… satire’s dog is missing.

Fight for a cause
Remember your loss
Watch “Who’s The Boss”
Even my pictures shed tears.
bAcK tO wOrK!

Scantily clad
Elections gone bad
Sweatbands a fad
Un-breakable.

All is for naught
The stock market got bought
Red handed your caught
Un-shakable.

Stealing time on the net
Tantric dancing begets
Little kitten, don’t fret
Un-faceable.

All is in this eye o’ mine

Business rule…automation object
Seek answers…defy logic
Lost my muse…in a cup of coffee
TRAVELDOGE
Taint
Me
With
Your
Subtle
Nature.
P.S. I’m ready
- Ode To My Mourning… lack of sleep is a b*tch

BLACK
Out
The lights rebel
Welcome to hell
Your soul you sell
For a
Flashlight.

You turn me
ON
leave
use and abuse
wanting more
Never rest.
Take me for granted
I’ve had enough…
This relationship is over.
Sincerely,
ENERGY

For ONE night in your existence you lived without:
air conditioning
television
computer
refrigerator
radio
cell phone
microwave
vacuum
toaster oven
swimming pool pump
electric massager chair
video games…

For ONCE, in the darkness, you could see the light.

I am so sick of money
You might think it funny
But my days are sunny
Without…

I am so mad at hate
Love has a soul mate
Or maybe just a date
Tolerance…

I am enamored with hope
Destiny and fate did elope
The future’s slippery slope
Falling…

Reflections a bitch
Death’s sale is a pitch
Eternally palms do itch
Lottery Of Life…

CHALLENGE THEM ALL
TAKE ON THE WORLD
TRAVEL LIGHT
A BIT OF SLIGHT
TRICKERY
DEBAUCHERY
OR MAYBE I’M JUST IN LOVE WITH ME.
FALLEN STAR
BROKE HIS ARM
ON THE WING OF THE ANGEL
WHO LANDED FIRST?
CRYING DOVE
FOUND ITS MUSE
BUT NOW HE IS LOST
SWALLOWING GULP
ORANGE PULP
HUMBLE FINDS
THIS CRAYON IS MINE
WITHOUT A BOX
YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME
YOU THINK YOU FEEL ME
BUT HOW COULD YOU
WHEN I DON’T KNOW.
MYSELF.
OR MAYBE I AM IN LOVE WITH ME.
LIFE IS THE PERPETUAL LOVE
OF FEELING
BLUE…
IS NOT THE ONLY COLOR
OR MAYBE
I AM JUST IN LOVE.
WITH…