I've been behind in my blog reading since the Thanksgiving trip to Texas to visit my family. My parents don't have Wifi, and I try to keep up with just shy of a zillion blogs - like you care. And like I need an excuse because let's face it, I'm always behind for some reason. But that's why I just read this post over at Emily Nagoski's Sex Nerd blog (yes, "sex nerd", and it's totally worth your time to poke about a bit in her blog because it's ah-mazing) about treating the body part of your not-really-two-separate-entities-but-just-go-with-it mind/body like it's your pet monkey.
I think I'll call mine George.
Do I really need to tell you that I spent the rest of the evening scolding my naughty little monkey (inside my head) and cracking myself up so much that my husband asked me what I was laughing at? I just let him think I was crazy, as usual, because even I realized that if I told him this, he would think I wiped out the wine fridge. Which is why I'm sharing it with you.
Then I remembered that my mind can also act like a monkey, a concept I was introduced to while reading this book during a writing workshop way back in my early college days. During which, I might add, I showed some promise as a writer. Explaining why I then promptly gave up writing. Turns out my monkeys would rather throw poo.
Which all leads to the obvious question - if the body can be a monkey and the mind can be a monkey, then who the frack* is in charge around here?
* Yes, I have been watching Battlestar Galactica, obsessively. Yes, I am late to the party. Yes, it still rocks.