Something that’s scared me recently, is the growing list of places I’ve sent resumes to, that have just never bothered to even let me know, “Thanks, but we’re not looking” or a something along those lines. The resumes I’ve sent feel like they’ve simply vanished into thin air, never to be seen again. I believe in my potential, I just don’t know what you do to get others to even look.
Vagina. Valentines Day. V-Day. Vagina-Day. Vagina Monologues.
I went to my first Vagina Monologues yesterday, on St.Valentine’s Day, or, as I’d rather call it, V-Day. They were fantastic, everyone who performed that night was excellent, I couldn’t begin to imagine the preparation and guts it would take to do that. They were pretty funny too, I mean, serious topics that aren’t laughing matters were addressed, but there was a lot of intentional humor. There was a dude in the front row who laughed very often, very enthusiastically, and sometimes during parts that didn’t call for laughs. It wasn’t offensive or anything; I was bothered sometimes I suppose, but for the most part this man’s distinct and random laughter was the source for many others’ laughter – most of us couldn’t help but laugh with the man who laughed for no good reason.
They pretty much touched on everything I would have expected, taking control of your own vagina, being proud of it, seeing it in a positive light, pleasuring it, and the darker subjects like rape, mutilation, and misogyny. “Angry Vagina” was my favorite monologue I think, in content and execution. Megan Mann did an excellent job projecting anger, and frustration, she owned it; I know there’s a script and all, but this being my first monologues meant that each performance felt like the original – which is to say, if you told me this girl wrote that monologue herself, I’d believe it. “Because He Liked To Look At It” was my least favorite monologue I suppose, but it totally wasn’t the fault of the performer. It told the story of a woman who was ashamed and disgusted of her vagina, until a lover named Bob, who was obsessed with it, showed her how wonderful it could be. It’s totally a true and valid experience, but during a night that collected stories of female strength and beauty, it felt a little weird to celebrate Bob and men in general, as being the key to valuing yourself.
Am I focusing too much on that? Should I shut up and just enjoy it all? I mean, I liked the monologue, it’s my least favorite, in an otherwise fantastic production. Does it make me a hypocrite that, while I’m criticizing “Because He Liked To Look At It” I’m listening to Björk’s “Cocoon” and “Venus As A Boy” on constant repeat? (Both songs about the gentleness and beauty of male lovers). I guess not, because those songs make sense on those albums, and I’m still not sure that the story of Bob entirely fits into The Vagina Monologues. (It also bears mention that Bob is played by a female on stage, so maybe it doesn’t matter that Bob’s a dude in the story).
Also, Ellen Page came out of the closet, which was pretty much the most pleasant way that V-Day could have ended. Other than getting pizza and drinking Smirnoff Ices, that would have also made V-Day pleasant, if it happened.