BLOGIVERSARY: CONVERSATION WITH A MONKEY

This morning I woke up next to a *monkey. He looked at me across the pillow and said:

"Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Sort of," I replied. "Though the bed seemed a little crowded."

"Yeah," said the monkey, "I don't know what all these people are doing here." He gestured towards Joedy, Malko, and Lula's sleeping bodies and yawned. "Nice hotel, though--they leave candies on the pillows." Putting two long fingers in his mouth, he fished around and pulled out a small pink object. It was soggy and had bite marks on it, but I recognized it anyway.

"That's not candy--that's my earplug."

"Oh," he replied. "That's why it tastes funny." He put the earplug back in his mouth and, crossing his arms behind his head, began chewing it slowly.

"And this isn't a hotel, it's a house," I said.

The monkey didn't seem to hear. He continued chewing in silence, staring at the ceiling, until suddenly he sat up and began frantically scratching his stomach.

"Goddammit!" he said. "What the HELL!!"

"What's the matter?" I asked. A few wiry hairs floated towards my face and I brushed them away.

"Fleas!" he replied. "This place has fleas! Goddammit! I hate fleas!!" Grumbling, the monkey separated the tufts of fur on his stomach and peered closely at the pink skin lying underneath. "Aha!" he said, "I got one!" Pressing two fingers together, he held them up to my face. "See the little sucker? See it? I'm going to kill it...god! I HATE fleas!" Still grumbling, he lay his head back on the pillow. After a few moments of silent chewing, he turned to me and said:

"So. What's your story?"

"My story? You mean my life story?"

"I don't know. Whatever." His interest seemed to be fading, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Well, I have a blog."

"A what? A dog? Is that why there are fleas in here?"

"No--a blog. A, you know, thing on the internet where you write things." I could see the monkey's eyes glaze over, so I went on quickly. "In a blog, you can write about anything--having six pets, driving around with stagnant water in your car, being $173,000 in debt--anything. You write about it, and then people read it, and then..."

The monkey leaned closer, and I caught a faint scent of rubber on his breath. "And then what?"

"And then, well, it can go one of two ways. You can be glad you wrote all that stuff and that people know so much about you, or you can hate yourself for being so open. It kind of goes back and forth all the time." I sighed, and the monkey stretched out a long furry arm and patted me gently on the head.

"How do you feel about it now?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Actually, not too bad. Better than I have for a while. I worked on an old entry last night, rewriting it so it would be better, and I was happy with it when I finished. In fact, I was really happy with it, and I think I'll send it to this online magazine."

The monkey's jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. "WOW! You go, girlfriend! That's what I'm talking about!" Shaking his head, he laced his fingers in his lap and continued gazing at me. Cheered by his reaction, I went on:

"It was neat, actually, to have a 'successful blog experience' this morning--it was 3 a.m. when I finished--because today marks my blog's one-year anniversary, and I felt like, I don't know, it was kind of giving something back to me. You know what I'm saying?"

"I do know," he said, nodding his head wisely. "It's almost like fate or something, right?"

"Right! Exactly!" I said. "It's so cool! And I have, like, all this renewed energy, and I feel positive about the whole thing again. It makes me excited for the next year, and then the next..."

"Woah, don't get ahead of yourself," said the monkey. "Just take it one day at a time."

"You're right. You're totally right." I sighed again--happily--and the monkey sighed too. Neither of us spoke for a while, and then he said:

"So--since you were up so late, should you maybe try to get some more sleep?" I noticed his eyelids drooping, and he tried to disguise a yawn by scratching his teeth with a blunt gray fingertip. I was tired too, so I nodded my head and lay down, pulling the covers up to my chin. We both closed our eyes, and a few seconds later I heard him murmur softly in his little voice:

"Sorry about your earplug," he said. "And happy blogiversary." I smiled, and we both fell asleep.


*stuffed