Self is ready. To write, that is.
She has cleared her calendar (and her head) and has promised herself the time from 10 am to 12:15 today to do nothing but indulge her increasingly whimsical predilection to consider herself a writer.
She has even taken the trouble to bring her laptop out to the dining room, so that while hubby is preparing to go to work, he can see her industriously typing away on her laptop.
On her left, Marguerite Duras’ The Lover (her life raft: Duras always saves her, when self feels she has nothing left). To her right, a metal bowl (empty). In front of her, on the computer screen — the BLOG!
The all-consuming BLOG!
And now into self’s head, completely unbidden, floats a memory of son in second grade (Why? Why? Why?)
His teacher is either Mrs. B or Mrs. G. Whatever. A widow.
She drives a red Jaguar to work.
The end-of-the-year class project is a play. In which sole fruit of your loins has a teensy part. And his name in the play, you discover when you hear him memorizing lines one day, is:
Monica.
Monica. Monica. Monica.
“Why are you playing a character called Monica?” self inquires.
Son shrugs. He doesn’t know why. That’s just the part he was assigned.
Self goes to son’s school. She addresses the teacher. The teacher tells her (as if self was a complete idiot): “Monica is a non-gender specific name.”
So, as if the fact that son is the sole Filipino (or Asian) in his class (It’s private school, what else? So above our means, but nothing is too good for sole fruit of one’s loins!) weren’t enough, he has now fallen into this “M. Butterfly situation.”
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
Kanlaon 
4 responses to “Self is Ready”
Seems to me you’ve already written a story, silly. I love The Lover. Did you see the movie? Horrible, I thought…
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I do love THE LOVER. That dreamy, dreamy prose.
I think the reason I liked the movie was because Tony Leung has a nice butt ??? (I saw him in another movie recently and OMG, he looked exactly the same, the man never ages … )
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I saw it so long ago that I COMPLETELY forgot Tony Leung was in it; it’s probably the first time I’d ever seen him (now, of course, he is a permanent fixture in “Ver’s Land of Increasingly Ridiculous Fantasies.” hahahaha!). I have only a vague memory of a very fine-looking man. Hmmm…Netflix here I come…
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Tony Leung is indeed very fine —
Jane March looks about 15, though she was actually in her 20s when she made the movie.
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