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…