MONO Lessons (Part XXI: 420 - 439)

Meditatively Obtained, Novel, and Observational (MONO) Lessons

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420. I don’t know what to do with my last name if/when I get married.  But I do know “Hoggan” won’t be leaving.  It’s far too awesome.

421. I want an equation, variable, or unit named after me.  “Then we take the Hoggan Cross Section…”  “Find the Hoggan wavelength of…”  “So after the algebra, we are left with 7 Hoggans…”  Yes.

422. Opera is not my thing.

423. “Little Women” is just a boring story.  Jo, grow up.

424. I should probably become a model.  It may be my true calling in life.

425. Depressed and anxious people shouldn’t have to split their depression and anxiety pills. We need more size variety!

426. Seeing a car flip over in front of you due to another car running a red light causes intersection anxiety.

427. I’m in love.  He drives me insane, but I love him.  I’m in love.

428. I can go months without talking to someone and still know when they’re pulling an April Fools joke.

429. Gay marriage would be legal if it weren’t illegal.  Think about it.  That thought isn’t as stupid as it sounds.

430. Fortune cookies are disgusting.

431. Domes of fudge are splendid.

432. Hemorrhoids suck.

433. Sucker Punch…possibly too awesome?

434. Buckwheat is nasty.  Even in maple-glazed cold cereal form.

435. I will never need to purchase an obnoxiously large, loud, and window-tinted truck to make up for any lack of “manhood,” thank you.

436. I don’t drink enough water.

437. I’m a meat-eating vegan.  A carnivorous vegan, if you will.  …Aaaaaand you will.

438. When I get an intense blog idea, move out of the way.

439. I like butt chins.

Thank U

On a slightly less serious note, but still just as profound as my previous blog, here are some more college "Thank U"'s:

Neti Pot

Thank U, Matt, for talking to me about gross neti pot and other sinus cleaning things.  And for being my first kiss.  Yep, I publicly admitted it.

Thank U, Spencer, for reminding me how fun (and insanely weird and confusing) it is to be young.

Thank U, LeAnn, for being my big sister.

LeAnn Rimes

Thank U, Rachel, for being my gluten-free rock.

Thank U, Kelly, for brightening my Noodle-filled dinners.

Thank U, Kelsey, for encouraging me to ride the shuttle...YOUR shuttle.  Also, for the many blonde moments you give my life.

THE Judy McLane & The Brandon Suisse
at the stage door of Mamma Mia!

Thank U, Brandon, for being my own personal theatre encyclopedia.

Thank U, Judy, for bringing me theatre that makes me feel.

Thank U, Rachael, for being somebody I know on the radio and for sometimes telling me the news when I wake up.

"You Lost!"
I see this a lot with him...

Thank U, Jesse, for always playing every "With Friends" game with me...even though you always win.  I hope I at least give you a good challenge every now and then!

Thank U, Dylan, for incessantly torturing me with your charming good looks and personality.  You nerd!

Imogen Heap

Thank U, Imogen, for numbing the pain, lessening the anxiety, and inspiring awe.

Thank U, Max, for being a crazy funny bisexual hipster...whatever that is...

Thank U, Brendan, for being okay with me accidentally stalking you in the Union for a couple of weeks before I even knew you.

Thank U, Melissa, for marrying a straight man.  ;-)  Oh, and for every single thing you taught me.

Thank U, Davey Wavey and Haley Star, for adding some much-needed humor (and abdominal muscles) to my life.

Thank U, Sam, for singing.  Please don't stop. I heart you.

"Angel" by Vinyl Tapestries (aka, Sam)

Thank U, Medium, FlashForward, Glee, Desperate Housewives, Fringe, The Amazing Race, The Middle, Modern Family, Parks and Recreation, The Office, The Sing Off, New Girl, Family Guy, The Simpsons, Happy Endings and Seinfeld, for making my life seem so boring, yet so much LESS dramatic than I tend to think it is.

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Thank U, Tron: Legacy, Sucker Punch, Midnight in Paris, The Help, Inception, Shutter Island, Slumdog Millionaire, Killers, and Zombieland, for the escape and stimulation.

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Thank U, sexuality.
Thank U, rapture.
Thank U, music.
Thank U, UTemps.
Thank U, PTC.
Thank U, "ah-ha!" moments.
Thank U, mono.
Thank U, Westminster, CO.
Thank U, Apple.
Thank U, iPhone.
Thank U, Cymbalta.
Thank U, Disneyland.
Thank U, Proposition 8.
Thank U, Packer.
Thank U, Cupid.
Thank U, pride.
Thank U, gluten.

Thank U.

Sweet Dreams

Warm and comfortable here in my bed, the door opens with a chilling breeze flooding every inch of me and my room.

*sigh*

The Best Time To Fly
by Muffin-and-Lemonade
deviantART

I close my eyes and prepare again for this ritual.
Sweet dreams are made of this, right?
This time, the beach.  The warm, soothing beach.
Right.
Here we go...

I feel the wet, soft sand breaking underneath my feet and squishing between my toes.  I look over the ocean's surface through my sunglasses from under my flamboyantly large sun-shading hat.  It's so calm and relaxing.  A wave rolls up the beach and wraps its fingers around my ankles.  I sink into the sand as the wave pulls away.  I stay put.  Can waves alone bury me in sand?  Another smooth wave deposits more sand over my feet.  This feels so weird!  My ankles are sensually bound by the sweat-soaked sand...

Wait!  Ouch!  I'm stuck!  This hurts!

"Shhhh!"

I gently lift my feet out of the sand and see my reflection in the water as the wave spills back into the ocean.  I love my red summer dress.  So retro chic with the red lace.
I look to the horizon again.
What's that?  Can't be a wave...that's far too big.  The surface has been so calm.  Oh no...  It is a wave...and it's coming my way.
Run run run!  I hear it fold over itself as it moans and groans toward me.  It's close, it's close!  Run faster, run faster!
I knew I couldn't run fast enough.  It caught me - battered me down into the bed of sand, wind knocked out of me.  I'm drenched; soaked in sticky, slimy, stinky sea scum.  There's scum in my hair, scum on my face, scum in my mouth, scum in my...

*whop*

The towel hits my back.
"Clean yourself up.  You can shower in the morning.  'night."
"FUUUUCK YOU!"  I scream in my head and shriek with my eyes.
"Oh, and remember our deal."
"Goodnight," I grunt.

I'm still not very good at this.  I want to escape, travel the world, but then my escape even takes me.
Sweet dreams.  Ha.  What are they made of?
I don't even know any more.

It's impossible to transpose...
                                      ...Anger, Rage, Titillation, Penetration, Screams, Pain, Blood...
                                                                                                                                  ...into serenity. 

I didn't sleep.  Time for a calculated nap.
Ahhh...  This beach is simply beautiful.  I wish I could live here.  I wish I could leave home and stay in this place forever.  It's so warm...so safe...so calm...

Red Coat Reverie I
by shamoney shambles
Flickr

A familiar chill runs up my spine, engulfing my body.  I whip my head around to find myself surrounded by snow-covered peaks.  As I shiver in my bathing suit, I assure myself, "It's okay...it's okay.  I'll be fine.  This will work just fine.  Just stay here and I'll be fine."  I walk into the lodge followed by many stares and double-takes.  Luckily they have plenty of snow gear for sell.  I pull out my bottomless wallet and purchase a beautiful winter coat.  It's red with hint of lace.  Since I'm here, I guess I should at least rent some skis and try it out.

The ski lift ride is jostling, blustery, and white-knuckled.  At least I'm warmer here under the covers...in my coat.  I get off the lift and slip over to my first run:  Sucker Punch.  They say it's an easy run if you don't think too hard about it - just use your split-second instincts.  Right, don't think.  Here we go.

I push off feeling the cold breeze on my rosy red cheeks.  The rush of weaving in and out of trees, people, and more trees is exhilarating.  I really start to pick up speed.  I see a jump up ahead...  Hmmm...I don't think....  Wait, exactly, don't think.  Just go!  I reach the bottom of the jump, swoop upward, and lift off!  Flying high into the air in slow motion.  I feel snow flakes tap my face.  

*smack*

Ughhh, my face.  Ahh...Sucker Punch...I get it now...  I flip myself over, onto my back.  I have sopping wet white snow all over my hair and my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*whop*

Towel again tossed at my cocooned body.  All I can do is shiver and breathe and cry wrapped up in my red, lace-trimmed comforter.
"Clean yourself up.  Your mother is home.
...Remember our deal.  See you again tonight." 

Right, our deal.  I'll never forget our deal.  And what a deal it is:
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I clean up, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I keep quiet, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I feign innocence, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
Sweet dreams are made of...me.

168.365 all the words in my mouth, #474 in explore !
by ashley rose
Flickr

Dinner.  Steak.

This is hell.

This is insane.

I'm bound, gagged, and in shackles...

How can mom not see this?

This agony has got to stop.

This nightmare ends here.

This time is the last time.

Hell is for sleazy scum like him; not for children.

If mom won't help me, I'll help myself.
I slip one of her precious steak knives into my pocket as I finish cleaning the dishes and prepare to return to my tainted bed.

I immediately tuck the knife under my pillow, inside the pillow case.

*knock*knock*

Opening the Door
by twenty_questions
Flickr

My door creaks open.
"Go away," I say, face in pillow, knife handle clenched.
"Just a kiss goodnight."
"Go away."
"Just a kiss goodnight, I said."
"Fine."

These goodnight kisses take longer and longer each night.

*click*

Darkness.  I know it too well.  Time for that kiss.

Tikka Powder
by Amit Rosner
cplaces.wordpress.com

I walk down the alleys of the cramped market standing out like a rose in full bloom wearing my brilliantly red saree.  There is excitement buzzing through the crowd.  "Color, color, color, color" is all I hear.  Is it Holi?  Oh how I would love to celebrate the Festival of Colors with the Indians!  People are buying handfuls of pigments from giant anthills of color!  I want some red.  "Who has red?  Who has red?!"  A woman tugs on my saree and pulls me to a shop.  I look at a mound of red in front of me.  I look at the woman and say, "Now that's what I call red!  Thank you!"  She gives a laugh and moves on.  "Four handfuls, please."

I walk out of the crowded market with my bags of red to a more open area.  Awww, it's so cloudy for such a happy day!  Our colors will brighten it up.  All this color will make the sun want to poke his way through those clouds and see what we're doing down here.  More and more locals begin to fill the area around me, each one of them holding some color.  I holler to the man next to me, "When should I do it?"  He looks back at me with a serene look on his face saying, "Now, my dear!"  He clenches his eyes closed and releases his dust in ecstasy.  Color color everywhere!
Color...
Color...
Red
Red...
Red......
It's all red...?
Oh how I love red!

I'm covered!  Covered in red red red!  It's in my hair, on my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*boom*crash*bang*

The downpour begins.  I knew the sun would want to see, but what a messy way to clear the clouds!  Instantly, our pigment drenched faces turn deep, rich shades, staining each fibre it touches.  The red drips from my body.  It drips through my hair, down my neck and face, into my mouth, along my back, and into my...

*drip*drip*drip*

Dripping Wet
by mlibrarianus
Flickr

"The deal's off," I choke out.  "I'm not going to breathe for you any more."
He howls and frantically pulls out the knife I, only moments ago, gently placed in my neck during his blind euphoria.
Only a few more

*drip*drip*drip*'s

and sweet dreams are here to stay.

Music to my ears.

*drip*drip*drip*

Sing me to sleep...
Sing me to sleep...
I don't want to wake up...
Sweet dreams.

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Inspired by:

Sucker Punch
"Asleep" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch
"Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch (originally by Eurythmics)
"Hell is for Children" and "Suffer The Little Children" by Pat Benatar
"This Time" by Céline Dion
"The Dark I Know Well" from Spring Awakening
Life
Others' Lives