stream of consciousness...


almost famous
a reflection always smiles back
i heard that he fucks on the first date
no thought, just motion in the ocean
perhaps...well...we'll see...
what part of elipsis don't you understand?
Xenia smiles and bequeaths her love to
me...once in awhile
my campfire flickers in the wind
perhap, I am playing myself too hard
I enjoy random thoughts and things...eventually you can make a connection out of anything.
It is the day before the 4th of July and I am biding my time as a superstar receptionist. Should I go to Coney Island and risk getting a hypodermic needle stuck somewhere, not to mention skin cancer? Yes, because I can afford the $4 round trip subway fare. ATM fees now cost as much as a ride on the MTA...

as you may or may not have guessed, my mind works on 6 levels simultaneuously. I go from one to the other and back to one and say hello to 4 and so on. snippets of my life, thoughts about life and why I hate the game 'Life', all will be explored. this will not be your typical journal, as I am not your typical person.

A note about typos...I typr really fast and furious to enable the outpouring of thoughts to flow sometimes my large hands will hit the wrong key(s) and I will not notice. sad to say how dependant i have become on spell check to clean up my mess. but rest assured, I do know how to's just that in this case, it's the thought that counts.
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almost famous

did you ever get one of those commercial songs stuck in your head? well right now i am singing "noodle-roni parmesean, a bit of ol' italy" i would sing it for you, so you could experience the true annoying qualities of it, but, sadly, you either know it or you don't. I am one of the chosen few.

Why am i embarrassed now that my lunch is out on my desk in plain view of people?...there is a container of french onion soup, sauteed spinach and a cheeseburger without the bun. Scraping moist bun off of melted cheese is neither fun nor purposeful. what was the point of asking to "leave the bun in the bag, please"?
my mullet wearing friend waved goodbye
but i had never waved hello.
corinna rolled her eyes and i laughed...
too hard, i agreed, the test was, but i
passed over her and went for the obvious choice.
gathered in the bubble they discuss the items that
they long to forget. i will keep this open b/c
ultimately i will think of more and more and more...
is andrea true in the house?
i thought he had answered his page but
my phone lied.
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almost famous
sir marks-a-lot

june skipped pebbles across the pond
while bam-bam laughed and clapped.
jackie left midway, repulsed at term 'ghetto'
i can't help's how i feel
i don't think men are funny,
yet i am a funny man.
barris banged a gong and I am
forever hooked on the hoopla.
There's somthing to be said for little
blue note cards and Marks-A-Lot markers.
When I win the $3.07 I will (verb).
spontaneous within a routine, that's me.

Starting my day with my usual scrambled eggs and sausage. For some reason, a three-day weekend feels like i've been gone forever. i half expect to see cobwebs and skeletons littered about the office. a corporate ghost town would allow me to listen to 'bootylicious' on repeat all day at top volume.
i am obsessed with that song. i know i am a liitle behind the pop culture times, but i can't control when my ears decide to like a song...i have to admit, one of the journal titles is 'i don't think you're ready for this jelly' and that started a little sing-a-long in my head and before i knew it, i had downloaded 'bootylicious' and immediately loved it. i played it so loud my dead grandmother asked me to 'keep it down.' database duty calls.


almost famous
when in rome...

you must speak italian. No reason for that, actually, just popped into my head and through my fingers. Nowadays, most everyone speaks a little english, so you don't even need to do that anymore.

**To those of you who have read my poems and ramblings, a humble 'thank you.' **

I love single quotes and find double quotes obnoxious. i guess it's because i love british english. i would love to have an english boyfriend. i also find misuse of quoation marks appalling. like, "house" for sale. or house for "sale" what are they saying?

I must admit, I feverishly hit refresh to see how many people have read them. i know that the entries are short, but i have ADD and don't forsee very long entries. i am always impressed by people who can write for awhile, without going off topic. this is why my journal is called 'stream of consciousness'

after i post an entry i always feel like i am in the company of celebrites, the other journal posters who have been posting longer and have hits in the thousands...this is one of the things that i aspire to.

another short term goal is to enter the Upright Citizen Brigade Theater's 'Dirtiest Sketch Contest in New York'...i have a great idea, but i need someone else to do it with me. my co-worker and i have talked about it, but she flakes out on a lot of stuff, and i can't take a risk with this. of course, i still need to write the sketch, but that's besides the point. it's truly tasteless, this sketch, and rightfully so.

wow, this is longer than i anticipated. i sit in front of a computer, answering phones for a post production company, so when it's slow i am exercising my brain. one thing that ritalin does not give me is discipline. i have to find that within my self. but, after countless hours of surfing the internet, i have decided to take my life into my own hands (literally, my fingers) i have always kept an on-again-off-again journal and i enjoy reading other people's journals, so why not. i am a firm believer that people who keep diaries want people to read them...why else would you write down your most (incriminating) thoughts? I know that i want others to read my thoughts.
i always seem to answer when people talk to themselves,
but am not listening when talking to me...


almost famous
asdf ;lkj

I was thinking of my 8th grade computer teacher who tried to teach us how to type by walking around the room shouting, 'ASDF space ;LKJ", while banging a stick on the floor with every letter. She really empahsized the space. she was the reason i got my picture in the paper for the first time. My teacher, Mrs. K, who was probably 50 -60 herself, had some friends who were old too and wanted to learn computers.

(Mind you, at this time it is 1986 and we were working on Commodore screens, recorded data on an audio tape, monitor and keyboard all in the same component. There was one Commodore 64, but that was OFF LIMITS. Seems ridiculous now... and i digress)

So our local paper gets wind that we were teaching geezers how to...i don't even remember what we taught them because this was before e-mail and the internet and now it's driving me crazy...what the fuck did they schlep over to the middle school for? take my word for it, we taught them something that they forgot 10 minutes after 'computer class' had ended. Long story short (too late!) they had two kids (one was me, i made sure of that) bend down over two old women like we were showing them liver spots on their arms and that picture was in the paper. Up to that point i had been dying to get my picture in the paper. I had only managed to get my feet in the year before that.

this was 6th grade, the same year that i had fantasies that madonna's tour bus would break down in front of my house and she would take me on tour with her. sean penn was in jail and he would be glad that he had someone cool to take care of her while she was on tour. I'm sure there was a point to this when i started, but the goddamn phone has been ringing enough to make this enty take forever.

as the prolific warhol predicted, 'everyone will be world famous for 15 mintues' i prefer to take mine one second at a time. I guess now it should be 15 episodes of fame, given all the reality shows that we have to deal with. some are fun and some are shite.

for a very long time i've known that i will be famous and in my head i already am. i am a headturner and sign autographs whether people want them or not.


almost famous
the asian woman paused long enough to read her advil bottle
and i walked by, craning my neck to read the fine print.
i am usually the last to know even when i decode something.
it's going and it went...once again reminding me of the doeppler
effect i have on women.
there is a vice on my brain today and i wonder who has the key?
not feeling particularly enthused or creative today, rather heavy. like my head needs to be emptied out, purge whatever it is that's clogging the membrane. not everyday is going to be a circus and thank god for that because i hate circuses. i have never been to one, but from what i've seen and heard, they sound absolutely repulsive. not even going to bother with my dislike of clowns, because nowadays it's so commonplace. i blame the movie 'poltergeist'.

so, it's tuesday which means that i will attempt the NY Times crossword. i have can just complete the monday which is a really good feeling. there's a definite flow and language to it. for those who don't know, monday is the easiest (and it's not that easy) and sunday is the hardest.

I was just reminded of one of the funniest personal ad headlines i have ever seen: 'british gent seeks bill crosby' that still makes me laugh. obviously, he likes black guys or maybe not. could've been seeking a 'bing crobsy' (child beater) and gotten the bing confused with the bill.

i doubt it.


almost famous
here with me

why am i worried that the paper will get dirty? or dirrrty, if i was c.a. looking for my fans. 2 hi-liters stuffed in a pocket, facing different i supposed to remember the pocket?
If so, that sucks for me because i only remember the
protector. He shouts behind glass, waiting for the restuarant to open,
confident that no one can hear him. Quietly, the busboy snickers - then is reminded that his Star Search audition is today. Balancing two lives, balancing bags, balancing -
Beaming, I presented the 2 lists - sorted, perfect and stapled.
He took them without a word and I left without a word....the words were on the list. Bribery will get you nowhere, unless you're the one being bribed. 'squint,' i recall the instructions or was it 'squid'?
Either way, it is too bright and my pen has gone dry...could you
point me in the direction of the nearest ink well? I watched him through the fountain and caught his double reflection looking at me. He's circling and i pray that i'm the prey.
I made Dianne Weist laugh on a street corner.

Physically I am in a relationship, but mentally I am alone.


almost famous
kenny loggins logged out of life

my smile is clickable too but lately has been stuck on standard...i thought i had ordered the automatic. 'shifty' she whispered to me and i averted my eyes. who knew that an ice cream cake would be so difficult to aquire...a taste for raisins was the raison d'etre of his 'stupid life.' the spider veins twisted and gnarled their way around her legs while Randi vainly tried controlling them. she put her whip down, defeated. you may fool nature for a bit, but she always catches up to you and has the last laugh. 'what is the best medicine?' i pondered as i laughed to myself, feeling and gardens were once the subject of many pontifications, but soon gave way to the projects and boardwalks. she feathered her hair and decided that it need some tar.


almost famous
forbidden dance

Trembling trees took turns
Aggravating Annie as a
Neophite nestled nicely near
Gavin Grey galloping greatly
On opposite opal oddities.

dedicated to Tango, who deserves it.


almost famous
curve ball

life has thrown me a very interesting curve ball indeed. just when i vowed never to live with anyone again, a very interesting situation has presented itself to me. checking out an apartment and meeting a potential roommate that i am excited about. you can't fly until you jump off the cliff... and now a poem:
the sign said 'ice coffee' so i drew a D with my finger and went on my way. the rainbow star is a reminder to marianne that she loves her life and all things 18...pointedly, i privately urged my ego to take a leave of absence, but it was having none of that. it finally settled for a short vacation; the others breathing a collective sigh of relief as we waved our white hankerchiefs. 'don't forget to write,' i called out sarcastically as i filled out my change of address form. the arrows directed liam in 4 different directions but he chose curtain number three and was immediately swallowed by the trapdoor. it belched, noting how delicious liam would have been if he had a little more texture, maybe some garlic sauce. too vain to keep the typos in, even though they're funnier than the intended words. the calendar pages flipped to 1980 and reminded me of mrs leonetti's words...'this will never happen again.' and it hasn't. i should've listened.


almost famous
ssensuoicsnoc fo maerts...if you will

Creaking floorboards haunt my dangling participle. The sentence is a fragment, but because the mirror is broken i don't care. Unearth that potted plant and fling it under the spotlight. Round 6 and I am losing to the contestant labeled 'hideous'. Well, time to return to the cliffs, those maddeningly enigmatic rocks. My casio keyboard drained my batteries and ate my hands. I was sad, but immediately reveled in the praise of how stylish my stumps looked. I have often remarked that I'd like to be invisible, but I guess I already am. Don't people wonder why that tattered gray sweater is moving on its own?


almost famous
poems are shape-shifters...

I'm not allowed to be sad anymore, I've decided. If life gives you lemons, shove them up your ass and go on tour. Are camels gullible or is that their facade? I am a notorious bounty hunter, but my consolation prize was a lifetime supply of paper towels. If I had anymore irony, I wouldn't be able to walk through a metal detector. Even though i am possessed, I still graduated with a BFA. A thought...if the anti-christ dropped by, would I serve h'ors doeurves? The wilted flower begs for life, but dies.
'Can I have a cup of chutzpuh to go?' marion asks as she nervously eyes my napkin holder. Do people still use roosters for alarm clocks?


almost famous
2 sides to every story.

Side A:
Diane wanted a bedtime story, but got a headcold instead. As she wiped her nose, she took stock of her glass giraffe collection...some had run away. Whatever lies you told will be imbedded in my lapels. Removing your name tag won't help either. 'Don't forget he's in the book.' 'Which book?' I asked, but he fell in a manhole. So - my teeth are stained and the last time I checked you were in my carpet. You can tell he doesn't want to work, but I insisted. Instead of chopping firewood he had collected driftwood. 'It'll dry eventually,' he snarled after the 42nd match had gone out. Sometimes i crave the simplicity of sensible shoes and rowdy dishwashers.

Side B:
That'll fade as well, I'm afraid. Did I miss anything? No. Bathing in chocolate sauce will only make it worse. Because I was forced to take tuba lessons in the 8th grade, I am constantly checking a spit valve that does not exist. I prefer the term 'crazy', thanks. I can function in society. 'Some people's kids' was muttered before my deft fist clocked her. You should never trade coupons with a pirate, my dear. 'Damn compass,' I whisper, secretly coveting my neighbor's. 'Rye bread,' Joe said wryly, chucking hot dogs on a string across the room. I nod. I don't like to make waves, so I doggy paddle to the other side of the pond.


almost famous
3 post-its with my name

My mix tape of Muzak sits underneath the Christmas tree, ignored. I guess I should've left cookies, but my measuring spoons are around my dog's neck. Maybe next year, but I know the dog won't share. They must've changed the password, the computer's memories locked away...the man with the ascott knows it, he's smiling and giggling. Who cares? I shrug it off and look out over the cacti. Even though they scare me, I still send them Valentine's Day cards. 'When's the last time I went on a fantastic voyage?' complained Edith, twirling around in her Wonder Woman cape. 'The supermarket doesn't count,' she thundered, reading her husband's mind, eliminating him with a death laser. Until then, I never wanted that typewriter, but you can't ignore the hopeless. Her horse stalled in the tunnel, crying softly. After two hours of backgammon, she realized the horse was dead and she was still in the tunnel, oblivious to the angry traffic behind her. Training wheels spinning, the lion wasn't amused. 'But I could be aroused,' he thinks as his beeper goes off. The frozen tundra blinks a warning signal as the truck slides across the ice and hits a steam shovel.


almost famous
yielding to my head

'My German accent gets on my nerves,' he thought as he shaved his armpits. Straddling a chair becomes you, especially during your Chinese Laundry impersonation. Industrial strength soap won't strengthen your spine. The phone is bugged and she smokes like a man. Only the elite drink out of ceramic mugs. I am not elite, nor am I Elise for that matter. Maybe it needs an umloutt. SIC. Everybody mouthed the words, though the music had stopped and it was dark. Just a thought. Not a word was spoken, but we were in love. Napkins stained with lipstick underneath my windshield wiper blade reminds me that I have a violation of the heart.


almost famous
phat with a phd

catherine zeta jones pumps gas while
smiling bravely for the cameras. it's
not an easy job, but she can do it.
cauliflower under my lip, should i
harvest it or let it grow...'and tell
everyone i thought the butler did
it. but i was wrong and can admit
that,' tori wept and put on her straight
jacket. but i thought the windbreaker was
for members only as i paid my dues. weeks
later, i tried returning them, only to find that
they had run away. time to call the milk cartons.


almost famous
private thoughts on public paper

Okay, so I draw better with words. It looks
like a lamp. Percolated coffee in France. Pieces
of a map on a wall. Doesn't fit in my glove box.
Another quarter lost. Well, answering machines
are hungry too. Sometimes greedy.

Welcome to my self-amusement park. Fred Astaire
on a hang-glider will be today's midway attraction.
Whose reflections have been in that disco ball? Peering
into an empty mug, it's a start. Paper cup,
metal spoon, drain spout--Are things
random if they're in the same room?

I am bigger than a bread box, but smaller
than a house. I've forged Ed Asner's
signature. It didn't get me anywhere
but the county jail. The crooning ('Sinatra,'
blurts out the black man) is periodically
punctured by pinball music.


almost famous
l'ascenseur is my favorite french word

the showcase is on a showboat called
'show business' and features show girls who
play show-and-tell. but please don't show me up.
flipping calendar pages, looking for the twelves and
trying hard to avoid the eights, all while working 9-5. i
smiled and she smiled back, offering her pitch fork. indeed,
i am out of tune, but it seemed a little forward for the situation
at hand. besides, she's F sharp and i am E flat and i have transposed
5 times this year and i am staying where i am...flighty and arrogant were listed next to my yearbook picture but mean mrs. jenkins signed her name anyway. i sighed and closed my book -
relieved that it was over, but sad that it would never happen again.
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almost famous

green and orange are appropriately complex whilst
paper spelled backwards gives me chills.
'what is termed a landslide' she sings softly,
turning on her salad and tuning berate
myself is counterproductive, but is available in
an over-the-counter dose, so i indulge. the back
of the tour bus peeks out of the right frame and i
gently nudge it into the background. she didn't sign a
release form and i cannot take that risk...not at
this point in my career. antoine's stapler sits
on the semi-annual hand-guide, attracted to
double hyphens. felicia holds on line 3 while felicity
holds on for dear life while felix holds on to his dreams.
i learned a long time ago to tie a string on my dreams
and they'll never fly away. if they do, you will go with them.


almost famous
Rose Ary (rule of thirds)

slide your keyboard to the left and wait for the thud.
the slate is suspiciously bland, though i had asked for
a blockbuster. tiffany's box office receipts were stuffed
in her bra as she recorded back-up vocals for her soundtrack.
feeling experimental today...where is my narractive when i need it?
jack, i'm not feeling up to par today.

in the midst of red elvis faces, hides a lone, white rapper
adorned with bling bling. stuart runs, trying to avoid the clock.
14.32 and counting. it seemed like yesterday that he had a full
fifteen minutes. such is the cancellation of reality. me, i prefer
to take my fifteen one second at a time. i am fond of 'frugal', thank you.
jerome, your bet is one dollar short and a day late.

i have been dying to puke for two months now. do you have
your driving clothes on? 'no,' she replies curtly, selecting
tori's nine iron. 'if it was good enough for god, then it is good
enough for me.' caps lock is forbidden in the carnegie library...
you know you can't shout. BUT WHY? i type as cuffs
are slapped on my fingers. 'i need a drink,' elaine snarls,
ignoring the prime meridian standard of time.
cindy, william's dog is humping your leg.
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