The Narrator

I'm on vacation this week,
but, as promised,
I have posted some prose
written under my pen name.

~

The Narrator
by Monica Manning

The streets were thick with fog. Minute tornadoes swirled around her feet as she walked purposefully, her hands crammed into her coat, the collar turned up against the chill. Straight, raven-black hair, seemed to sparkle as the streetlight reflected off the tiny drops of moisture. Impatiently pushing a few stringy strands away, she shot an annoyed glance at …

“Cut it out!” Anger shot off her in waves. “You’re pissing me off!”

He glanced away, shrugging. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Well it’s annoying.” She walked faster and he lengthened his stride to keep up with her.

If he didn’t accomplish the mission, he would certainly be punished. And eternal damnation was not something he wanted to experience. He was unsure what the gods expected him to learn from this mission, but he was determined to succeed. No matter how irrational it seemed.

They arrived at the tall building she called home.

She fumbled in her bag, looking for ...

“That’s it!” She shoved at him hard so that he stumbled back two steps. “I’ve had it. Go back to wherever you came from.”

“I told you already...”

“Yeah, I know.” She dragged a hand through her wet hair. “You’re being tested, the gods sent you to be my Narrator, yadda yadda yadda.” She looked up at him, into those deep grey eyes that seemed to reach right into her soul. If he wasn’t so annoying, she could actually let herself get lost in those eyes. “I don’t care,” she whispered. “You’ve been following me around all day. Aren’t you done yet? I have a boring life. There’s not much to Narrate.”

He slipped into the elevator with her just as it closed and followed her to the penthouse unit. At the door, she turned to him, a bemused look on her face. “You can’t come in.”

“Oh, but it says so in the Decree.” He pulled a piece of tightly rolled parchment from his cloak and unfurled it. She snatched it from his hands and scanned the paper, her eyes growing wide as she read.

“You idiot!” Dropping the parchment on the floor, she opened the door to her unit and slammed it resolutely in his face. He picked up the scroll and read it through once again.

“Oh my.”

There, clearly written in the Lord’s intricate penmanship was the Decree that he should be her Navigator.

Not Narrator.

“Oh my,” he repeated.

~

I anticipate post-dating
some posts at the
Monica Manning blog,
so head on over there
and check out
today's submission.

Hasta Luego, mi Amigos!

As you read this,
we're leaving for Mexico,
heading to sunny
Puerto Vallarta
with some friends.

I considered having
guest bloggers.
I also considered
simply post-dating my posts.

Then I thought:
Hey! I can do both!

I'm going to completely
step out of the closet
and 'out' my alter-ego.

So next week,
while I'm sipping
umbrella-laden fruit drinks,
I have post-dated
several posts
from my writing blog.

I know that Blogger
sometimes has issues with the
post-dated feature.
Hopefully this works.
If not,
I'll see ya'll when I get back...

We will resume our regular
blogging schedule
November 30.

Hasta luego!

Great News!

There is a radio show
called Life Rattle
heard on Sundays
from 9 - 9:30 p.m.
on CKLN-FM 88.1,
where local writers read
a couple of their stories on air.
It's quite entertaining...
there is some wonderful talent in this city!
If you live in the Toronto area,
you should listen in.

My friend,
who writes under the pen name,
Vikki Summerfield,
is one of the hosts of this show.

Every year,
Life Rattle presents
The Totally Unknown Writers Festival.
Local unknown writers read their stories
before a live audience.

Last night,
BJ and I went to the Festival
at the Rivoli.

While I was there,
Vikki introduced me to
the other hosts of the show.
I knew she had taken
a couple of stories from my
Monica Manning blog
and had presented them to her co-hosts.

They asked me to record two of my stories
for radio play.

I'm going to rework the stories
and record them when I'm back from Mexico.

I'll let you know when they air.

I'm so excited about this,
I can barely type!

One More Sleep!

I'm driving everyone I know nuts with this.
My Facebook status updates are all about
how many more sleeps before my vacation.
Specifically,
about the fact that
even though we leave Friday
I really only have one more sleep
(being tonight)
because, let's face it,
I'm not going to sleep tomorrow.
We're getting picked up at 3 a.m.
to drive to the airport anyway.
Why bother?

I have posts set up already
for the entire time I'm away.
I may not blog tomorrow,
so if I don't,
I hope you enjoy what I've
post-dated for the time I'm away,
and I'll see ya'll when I get back
on November 30.

Hasta luego!

'Tis Already the Season

I can't believe it's here.
We're still eating
Halloween candy
and the stores are already
hauling out
Christmas crap
and playing carols.

Really?
It's no wonder everyone is
stressed out this time of year.
How many times can you listen
to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
before you go postal on someone?

To make matters worse, someone
who shall remain nameless
*cough* Cousin Alex *cough*
already sent out their Christmas cards!

Slow down woman!
You're making the rest of us look bad!!

Despite my ranting and raving, though
I got a great kick out of this video.
I stole it from Nasira,
who posted it on Facebook.

I especially love
"Seven Eleven Workers" and
"Eleven-Syllable Names".

Very clever!

Manic Mondays

Over at The One Minute Writer C. Beth's prompt is "Monday".
Specifically, she asks:
What is the best thing about Mondays?

Really?
Isn't that an oxymoron?

I'm not a morning person.
Never have been.
Never will be.

Sadly, I married a morning person.
You cannot imagine how annoying this is.

I think of Mondays as a perpetual morning.
So I'm sure you've already figured out
how I feel about Mondays.

The only saving grace this week
is that it's only a three-day week for me.
I'm off Thursday to pack and primp
before my vacation.
We leave Friday for Mexico.

So I will drag my sorry self
through this gawd-awful day
and know that I have
sunny days ahead of me.

And next Monday,
will definitely be much better.
I mean, how bad can a Monday be,
when you have a swim-up bar??

Flu Shmu

Thanks to Lady Fairchilde for this ...


I'm not really worried about the swine flu,
but I do have a concern ...

Three years ago:
Chinese calendar year of the cow = Mad Cow disease

Two years ago:
Chinese calendar year of the bird = Avian flu

This year:
Chinese calendar year of the pig = Swine flu

Next year is the year of the cock.

Anybody else worried?

And what's the vaccination for it going to be?!

The Countdown's On

Next Friday,
we're leaving for Mexico.
I can't wait.
Other than my staycation
while TH was in Europe,
I haven't had a vacation since
this time last year,
when we went to Mexico.

Can you tell I love Mexico?

Last night,
I did what every woman
absolutely detests.
I went bathing suit shopping.

I don't know where
Bikini Village
found their mirrors,
but they were all warped.
The person reflected back at me
had way too many
dimples, lumps and bumps.

I don't just have a muffin top,
I have an entire bakery section.

The skinny bitch nice sales girl
asked me what kind of suit I was looking for.
"Something that covers all the sins?"
I suggested.

TH immediately pipes up
with a sarcastic
"Why don't you just take her
out back and show her the
berka section."

I appreciate the fact that
TH has a Shallow Hal complex.
He looks at me and sees
a hot skinny girl.
God bless him!

But I'm wondering if the berkas
come in a nice floral print.

A Pittance of Time

My heartfelt thanks
to those who gave all
that I,
a total stranger,
may live free

A Thrilling Night

I left work on time last night.
Well, sort of.
But at least I didn't stay late.

This is akin to a miracle for me.

I'm on the GO Train.
And this guys sits down beside me.
His iPod is screaming loud.
And he's playing Thriller.

I text The Husband
to let him know I'm on my way home.

on 5:10. beside some idiot who's playing thriller so loud i can make out the lyrics!

TH responds:

raking leaves. jackson rules. shamon.

Death from Below

Marc, over at Daily Writing Practice,
had a link to this piece.
I can't tell you how many times
I've watched this.
And I laugh harder every time.



Also worth watching are The Poem About Kicking Your Ass and Living on a Prayer.

Think before you speak

Thanks to CourTini for sending me this.

CourTini is leaving for Italy tonight.
All together now ...
"We hate you, CourTini!"

Oh, not really.
Have a great time, Court!




Have you ever spoken
and wished that you could
immediately take the words back?

Here are the Testimonials of
a few people who did:


FIRST TESTIMONY:

I walked into a hair salon with my husband
and three kids in tow
and asked loudly:
"How much do you charge for a shampoo
and a blow job?"

I turned around and walked back out
and never went back.
My husband didn't say a word...
He knew better.


SECOND TESTIMONY:

I was at the golf store comparing
different kinds of golf balls.
I was unhappy with the women's type
I had been using.
After browsing for several minutes,
I was approached by one of the
good-looking gentlemen who works at the store.
He asked if he could help me.

Without thinking, I looked at him and said,
"I think I like playing with men's balls."


THIRD TESTIMONY:

My sister and I were at the mall
and passed by a store that sold
a variety of candy and nuts.
As we were looking at the display case,
the boy behind the counter asked
if we needed any help.

I replied,
"No, I'm just looking at your nuts."

My sister started to laugh hysterically.
The boy grinned,
and I turned beet-red
and walked away.
To this day,
my sister has never let me forget.


FOURTH TESTIMONY:

While in line at the bank one afternoon,
my toddler decided to release
some pent-up energy and ran amok.
I was finally able to grab hold of
her after receiving looks of disgust
and annoyance from other patrons.
I told her that if she did not start behaving
right now she would be punished.
To my horror, she looked me in the eye and
said in a voice just as threatening,
"If you don't let me go right now,
I will tell Grandma that I saw you
kissing Daddy's pee-pee last night!"

The silence was deafening after
this enlightening exchange.
Even the tellers
stopped what they were doing.
I mustered up the last
of my dignity and
walked out of the bank with
my daughter in tow.
The last thing I heard as
the door closed behind me,
were screams of laughter.


FIFTH TESTIMONY:

Have you ever asked your child
a question too many times?
My three-year-old son had
a lot of problems with potty training
and I was on him constantly.

One day we stopped at Taco Bell
for a quick lunch,
in between errands.
It was very busy,
with a full dining room.
While enjoying my taco,
I smelled something funny.
So of course, I checked
my seven-month-old daughter,
and she was clean.
Then I realized that Danny
had not asked to go potty
in a while.
I asked him if he needed to go,
and he said "No".
I kept thinking
"Oh Lord, that child
has had an accident, and I don't
have any clean clothes with me."
Then I said,
"Danny, are you SURE
you didn't have an accident?"
"No," he replied.
I just KNEW that he must have had an accident,
because the smell was getting worse.
So, I asked one more time,
"Danny, did you have an accident?"
This time he jumped up,
yanked down his pants,
bent over,
spread his cheeks
and yelled
"SEE MOM, IT'S JUST FARTS!!"

While 30 people nearly
choked to death on their tacos laughing,
he calmly pulled up his pants
and sat down.

An older couple made me feel better,
thanking me for the best laugh they'd ever had!


LAST BUT NOT LEAST TESTIMONY:

This one had most of the
State of Michigan laughing
for two days and
a very embarrassed female news anchor
who will, in the future,
likely think before she speaks.

What happens when you predict snow,
but don't get any?

We had a female news anchor who,
the day after it was supposed
to have snowed and didn't,
turned to the weatherman and asked:
"So Bob, where's that eight inches
you promised me last night?"

Not only did HE have to leave the set,
but half the crew did too,
they were laughing so hard!


(Quite frankly, I can't believe
none of these experiences are mine)

Yeah ... what he said

Thanks to Devi for sending this one.

Devi is possibly the most
Christian Hindu I know.
She pointed out to me yesterday
that her friend
calls her Chrindu.
*snort*
Good one!

Face to Face

Barna Boo sent me this gem yesterday (thanks Boo!):


UCLA Study

A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle.

For example:

If she is ovulating, she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features.

However, if she is menstruating, or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with duct tape over his mouth and a spear lodged in his chest while he is on fire.

No further studies are expected.

Those songs in my head

The Husband has this
uncontrollable desire
to drive me insane.
I'm not sure why.
Perhaps it is his purpose in life.
Many of us wonder why we're here
on this earth.
TH knows.
It's to make me nuts.

His favourite way of doing this
is to plant an annoying
song in my head.

Today was no exception.

The news this morning
was all about
Prince Charles and Camilla
who are here in Canada
visiting for the first time
as a married couple.

The news reader said that
they will be attending
the opening ceremony for the
Royal Winter Fair.

"Gee," I mused to TH,
"When's the last time royalty
opened the Winter Fair?"

"Oh, I don't know," he countered.
"I'm sure there's always someone
who attends, even if it's just..."

and he pauses
for just a fraction of a second
and I know that he's up to something

"...the Duke of Earl."

And I can see it in his face.
He's trying not to smile.
He has this evil smirk on his face.

And then I hear the chanting
in my head

Duke, Duke, Duke,
Duke of Earl,
Duke, Duke, Duke ...

*sigh*
Well ...
I supposed it's better than
Kungfu Fighting,
which is what he usually
tortures me with.