Ways ‘Mono’ Has Affected My Life

Monophonic: I been on a classic rock kick this year so I can state that unlike, say, the entirety of Led Zeppelin 2, Joy’ Division’s 1979 classic “She’s Lost Control” actually sounds better this way. Unplug a speaker and see.

Monogamy: My once-roaming lust has been padlocked since 2010 by the vow: “Do you solemnly swear to only have sex with this dude here week after week, year in and year, out til you’re cold and dead?” (“I do.”) Marriage, it’s so…romantic.

Mononucleosis: So far so good since 1978 but I did know a girl in elementary school who was put in the hospital by this affliction. We made her get well cards and she got to stay home for four weeks. So lucky! I used to want to go to her house and let her breathe on me.

Monoclimatic: Where I live is anything but monoclimatic, with Gaia throwing a bit of everything at us except a monoclimate. Right now it’s sixty-five and raining. Last week it was seventeen below zero. This weekend we might have thunderstorms. Ah, it never gets old.

Monocle: In fourth grade in Girl’s Theater Club we did a Christmas play and I was a character named Mayor McDunham, who tried to cancel Christmas with the refrain: “Regulations, regulations!” He wore ten pounds of padding and a monocle, the latter of which made my eye red and was hard to see through, giving me a lifelong sympathy for Colonel Klink. Oh! And the girl who later got mono and stayed home? She played a corrupt bearded elf named Coralbee P. Picket. Weird, Girls’ Theater Club was like a cross-dressing showcase, right smack in the midst of 1980s Catholic school.

Mono on mono: I saw Tim Burton’s Batman when I was ten and had no grasp of Spanish, so when Joker challenged Batman to fight “mano a mano,” I thought he was saying “mono on mono,” or “one on one” in other words, which I still think kind of makes sense.

Mononucleotide: In college I used this word at a departmental mixer to try and sound smart, but failed, mostly because unbeknownst to me all that evening I had a wadded up tissue sticking out my pocket like an albino kangaroo. Til I realized what they were really looking at I’d been feeling good about everyone there checking out my butt.

Monopoly: I once almost bludgeoned someone who would NOT let me quit playing this goshawful game, even after two hours, so instead I “accidentally” sneezed and tipped over the game board. “Oh, nooo!” I chirped. “You did that on purpose!” he charged. “Look, I swear on your mother’s grave I wouldn’t do that." And because of my promise he let me get away with a draw. How he did not catch that maternal switcheroo sending his mom to the grave I’ll never know, but to this day I wonder if I killed the old girl with my fib.

Monotheism: I ponder whether this is a passing trend on the world stage or the arrival point in religious evolution, waiting for the day I hear God boomingly say: “Place your bet.” “Um, I’ll have what He’s having,” I shall then reply.

Monomorphism: Once I left school and entered the real world, I was delighted to discover algebra, and its stomach-twisting concepts like monomorphism, did not exist.

Monophobia: I have never been monophobic, since I am scared of many things including horses, time-traveling abortionists, and choking on a whole lime stuck in my mouth for the purposes of a drunken pub wager.

Monosyllabic responses: My stock-in-trade til 1981, with my first word being “I" which is coincidentally also my favorite letter.

Monomania: I suppose my fascination with the past counts as monomania, and the fact this post is largely a reflection says something on the subject. (Really, I am spoon feeding you this one, but look down before you step into the clay.)

Monoorgasm: I have long pitied men for being limited to but one orgasm per climax, since women are not restricted via monoorgasmic limitations. (Heeeey, thanks, God!)

Monogramming: A terrible fashion trend of the early Reagan years which I, like most American toddlers, endured when not trying to pick the letters off our chests. E.M.! If you were too young for monogrammed attire or other equally terrible events like the Holocaust, count yourself lucky.

Monotonous: Describes 99% of a job I once had; the other 1% was sheer terror. My working week was like: boring-boring-boring....oh-god-i'm-going-to-die....boring-boring-boring.

Monochrome: My dad’s Mac SE had/has a monochrome screen, yet in 1987 we all thought it was the high-point in computer engineering, like today idiots are convinced a visor counts as virtual reality. “Jus’ you wait, ‘enry ‘iggins, jus’ you wait….” (Seriously, you should stay alive for 2037 and "the Tap." Just saying....)

Monolithic: What everyone seemed til I was about five. In a related note, back then the world smelled a lot like slacks. When I told this to my mom she asked what slacks smelled like. I thought about this a moment. "Like seat cushions, I finally said. "Well, I hope that's good..." Mom replied, vexed. I really wanted to say something else, but I was too hidebound then by being nice. The things kids endure....

Monovalent: Since lycanthropes are immune to all other diseases, I have always argued with my nerd friends that lycanthropy is not monovalent since no one antibody could eradicate everything from the Black Plague to mono itself. They’ve usually rewarded my erudition by flipping me off and going back to playing Magic. Language is a gift, words are telepathy, use them freely and the small minded and unappreciative who nip the heels of the expressive be damned! :-)

Monologue: I usually judge by the view counter here whether any given post of mine is one of these. God bless other peoples’ random curiosity!