MOVarazzi

Friday, May 4, 2012

764. The Muse

My muse likes to strike while I am driving.  I might be driving to work, or the grocery store, or the post office, and all of sudden, Muse gets chatty.  “Hey, the Raccoon Story!  You never wrote about that yet, did you?” (Muse has a talent for ideas, but alas, no talent for grammar).  I glance at Muse out of the corner of my eye, then ask if she could pretty please hand me that pad of paper and pen Queen Virgo keeps in the glove compartment. 

“Oh, I can’t quite reach it,” says Muse, looking at her fresh manicure and then flipping the sun visor down so she can double-check her lipstick, “but don’t worry, you’ll remember it!” 


Muse does not realize that I have the memory of an elephant who lost a chunk of his brain in an overly aggressive skiing accident. 
I have no memory.  Less than none, I have negative memory.  I remember things that never happened and forget things that might never have happened or happened to someone else when they should not have been happening to me.   



For now, I focus on the yellow traffic light, mentally calculating if I should run it.  I step on the gas.  Then, I take a deep breath and slowly count to ten, take another deep breath, and yell at Muse anyway.  “Give me the %#*@ paper, Muse!  Hand it to me!  Stop fussing with your appearance, no one but me can see you anyway!” 

Muse slams the mirror back up.  “Well, if you are going to talk to me that way, Missy, you have another thing coming!  I hear Mitt Romney needs a muse!  I’ll just zip on up to Boston.  I am outta here!” 

  


And like that, she’s gone.  I am despondent.  I did not have a chance to write down the Typhoon Story (and seriously, this is how she confuses me:  I do not even remember being in a typhoon, so why did she recommend that as a story idea?), and now the idea is lost forever. 

The next day, I am getting out of the shower and there she is.  “I think you should write about that restaurant, you know, the one that had the red mosaic tile in the hostess area?  Remember when you took the kids there?  That is a super-funny story!” 

“Yes, you’re right!  Yes!  Red-tile-restaurant-dinner, red-tile-restaurant-dinner, red-tile-restaurant-dinner,” I begin chanting it like a mantra while I grab a towel. 
“What are you talking about?” shouts The Husband from the next room. 

“Nothing, Sweetie, nothing—I just had this great idea to write about, uh, uh … the restaurant with the red bench outside?  Wait, no.  The store with the blue chandelier?  Wait.  No!” 

Damn, Muse!  Come back! 

That night, I am lying in bed, just about to doze off. 

“Hey, MOV, it’s me!  I have such a great idea about the Space Shuttle!  You need to write this one down though.”  She pokes me in the arm with a sharp pencil.    

I ignore her, roll over, and go to sleep. 

I know I’ll probably see her again somewhere tomorrow, who knows-- maybe even on my drive to work.

MOV 

43 comments:

  1. Who are you again? Just kidding! I loved this--it struck a little close to home, though...

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    1. I am MOV. I am also Queen Virgo. We are one and the same. The Muse is a fig newton of my imagination.

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  2. Every day, I think to myself - someone should invent a thought to paper transcriber thingy. So much greatness, forgotten. I've written some really fantastic stuff in my head, before I forgot it.

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    1. Oh, yes, I know what you mean. =O

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  3. Aside from knowing that something is an awesome story to write about as it is happening, the shower, car, and bedtime are pretty much the only three times where I actually think of something to write, and I quickly formulate the entire story in my head in a period of about 20 seconds. I usually whip out my phone and record a voice memo, because I know that I will definitely lose it if I don't record it.

    Sometimes the ideas are terrible, though. And it is embarrassing to hear myself say it through the recording.

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    1. You are much smarter than I am because you actually think to leave yourself a voice memo!

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  4. Your muse and mine must be sisters!

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    1. Does yours look like Kate Moss(Muse)?

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  5. My ideas always hit me right as I'm falling asleep. I even used to jot things down in my half asleep state, only to have no idea what the random jumble of words mean in the morning.

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    1. I think right before you fall asleep is that hazy dreamy state where your imagination runs wild.

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  6. I have seriously considered putting batteries in an old cassette recorder..."note to self.."

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    1. yes! or do the voice memo thing like Youngman Brown.

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  7. My Muse always speaks to me right before I go to sleep. I'm positive I'll remember in the morning, I repeat the great ideas over and over to myself before I sleep, but they always disappear.

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    1. I have even DREAMT about the thing I was chanting about, and STILL forget it!!!

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  8. I'm sure our muses are related...

    I used to try to use my cell phone to record voice notes whenever I had an idea. Problem is, the ideas almost always came when I was driving, and attempting to dig the phone out of my purse while trying not to steer myself into a tree or something was too much work, so I gave up. Now I just chant the ideas out loud until one of my kids says something and bam, it's gone. C'est la vie!

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  9. Haha I love how you gave up on me! I am way behind, though. Love your muse! Mine has scales and is green. And eats people. Probably.

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    1. Kate Moss(Muse) has scales and is green. On the inside.

      (and I never gave up on you!!!!!!!)

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  10. Your muse is awesome. I don't really have a muse, as such. i have a little voice inside my head that gives me my ideas. most of the time, its sleeping.

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  11. My muse smokes too. And gives me the silent treatment a lot of the time as well. Is frequently drunk and/or high. And says derogatory things about me to my face. I think it's that whole 'treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen' mentality.

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    1. Hmmmmmmmmm. Your muse sounds mean! But your blog is hilarious! So mean treatment from muse = hilarious writing???

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  12. I like the fact that you give your feelings physical manifestations. (That may not sound right grammatically...)

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    1. Thanks! Doesn't everybody do that, though?

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  13. my muse is a dirty pervert and mostly likes to remind of stories to write that i can't write because certain people read me who would whole-heartedly not approve.

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    1. hmmmmmmmm, so then you write about the dead birds. So there must be two muses, the pervert muse and the dead bird muse. Or is it the same muse? Your muse is schizophrenic!

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    2. different muse. or maybe the dead bird post was museless. that might explain some things...

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  14. My muse(s) needs to be poked with a sharp pencil at times. I get along just fine without him/her/them if he/she/them get too snarky and gang up on me when I'm snoozing. I don't share my cookies with that rascally crowd either unless they give me extra-good help. ":)

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    1. mmmmmmmmm, if my muse would always show up for something as simple as cookies, I would make sure to have a fresh batch on hand for her!

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  15. My muses crowd is trying to get me in trouble already. They'll be hanging out at www.incomingbytes.blogspot.com until I raise the rent.

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    1. raise the rent???? muses have no money! that's why they're muses!

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  16. Cute way of putting it. Yes, the muse comes and goes, and one must listen up fast or forget...

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    1. thank you, Catherine! Hope you come back to read more.

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  17. Replies
    1. hmmmmmmmmm, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

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  18. Hi, Mov!

    Thank you so much for becoming one of my followers! I am now your follower!

    Just looking around and I like what I see! I'll be back!

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    1. Likewise, Betty! Glad you are here, welcome!

      best,
      MOV

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  19. I'm back! Can't keep a good women down; at least that's what my muse tell's me- haha!

    Very humorous post, MOV! My muse arrives at just the opportune time. When it's time for some thought or idea to come forth - it is brought forth! I usually never forget what is given to me; it's received as a gift and of great value!

    Enjoyed your post!

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  20. I don't know if I have a muse or not. I do know that when I was writing my dissertation I used to get a lot of clarity (good ideas, tweaking ideas) while in the shower. I made sure to write them down before they dripped out of my head. :-)

    I need a "what to cook for dinner" muse. Do they make those? (Maybe at Target, by the dog food?)

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    1. oooooh, the Dinner Muse. I need her.

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  21. So glad to know I'm not alone with having a frustrating Muse. Mine also pops up at random moments when I'm distracted with other things. I try to write down notes (if I'm in a position to do so)... but even those don't always work. I'll reread my notes later and think "what was I talking about here???" Sigh.

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When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)