{"id":99,"date":"2004-02-10T12:57:09","date_gmt":"2004-02-10T12:57:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/34.95.25.178\/maggie\/2004\/02\/10\/live_monkeys\/"},"modified":"2004-02-10T12:57:09","modified_gmt":"2004-02-10T12:57:09","slug":"live_monkeys","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/2004\/02\/10\/live_monkeys\/","title":{"rendered":"Live Monkeys"},"content":{"rendered":"

Last month, bloggers far and wide posted entries<\/a> about the jobs they’ve had. This was the first “Monkey” from blork<\/a> and Martine<\/a>.
\nThis month’s monkey<\/a> is a little more philosophical (read hard): “Talk about the times in your life when you felt really, really alive.”
\nOkay, here goes:<\/p>\n


\nHomo Alone<\/b><\/u>
\nHomo Alone<\/i> was my first (and, it turns out, my last) directing experience. The play was amazing, the cast was awesome, and we kicked ass. The play was the top seller at the Montreal Fringe Festival that year. There’s nothing like sitting in a packed theatre, watching your beloved actors giving their all, and feeling the audience get it.
\nTeaching<\/u><\/b>
\nOn a good day, that is. When I’m absolutely on the ball, teaching is one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. I get a physical rush from it. The down side is that I feel really, really low when it doesn’t all come together – whether it’s because the students aren’t participating, or my material is too thin, or I just can’t generate the enthusiasm I think the topic should inspire. But man, when it works, it rocks.
\nNot Quite the First Time<\/u><\/b>
\nI remember very little about my first time (you know, “it”). There was a sunset and a beach, which sounds romantic, but it was cold and damp. Not particularly memorable. What I do remember is the first time I experienced, um, total satisfaction. Wow. Suffice it to say different guy, different place (although coincidentally, still outdoors).
\nLove<\/b><\/u>
\nOkay, yes, corny – but true. When Dr. T and I were engaged after only three months together, people thought we were nuts. But we knew. We knew after one week, and after those three months, we only knew more. This summer will be our tenth wedding anniversary. We knew.
\nChildbirth<\/b><\/u>
\nThere are two separate “moments” here – the first is the actual birth, which is messy and excruciating and exhausting and seemingly endless. Believe me when I say that for me, there was nothing else in those moments. The physical act of birth is something intense, and the rest of the world falls away.
\nI don’t get it when people say that you forget the experience. It’s true that I had forgotten just how intense the sensations were – with son number two, I actually went to the hospital with those annoying little Braxton-Hicks contractions, convinced I was in labour. But the experience of birth – well, every moment of it is etched in my memory. I remember the pattern on the curtains, the colour of the chairs, the position of the sun, the funny hat the anesthetist wore, the conversation I had with the first-year med students (and the way they were pressed up against the farthest wall of the room as if contractions were contagious), and the lovely whoosh along my spine as the epidural kicked in.
\nThe second moment comes right after all that – that first moment you hold your newborn baby, and see his face for the first time. It’s indescribable.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Last month, bloggers far and wide posted entries about the jobs they’ve had. This was the first “Monkey” from blork and Martine. This month’s monkey is a little more philosophical (read hard): “Talk about the times in your life when you felt really, really alive.” Okay, here goes:<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"wprm-recipe-roundup-name":"","wprm-recipe-roundup-description":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-99","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-monkey-see-monkey-do"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/99","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=99"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/99\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=99"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=99"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.golding.ca\/maggie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=99"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}