It’s a long one; that’s not what she said

Yesterday was an amazing day. There were a couple small glitches, but there is no possible way they cancel out how overall fantastic yesterday was.

I woke up at 7:00am, got ready for my 10:00am class. Did some of my reading for preparing for my two exams next week. Normal morning stuff. Went to my 10:00am class, Ecology. That class. Ugh. It is not one of my preferred classes to attend. But after that class, at 11:00am, is when things started to get good.

In order to drum up attention for the performances of The Vagina Monologues, there’s been a table in the Union on campus across from the Starbucks. I had signed up to table yesterday. Of course we were selling tickets for the shows. That’s expected. That’s normal. But that’s not all we were selling. Oh no. We were selling chocolate vulvas, too (though we were calling them chocolate vaginas).

If nothing else, tabling is an excellent  form of people watching. Which myself and the other girls did. So many people walk right by the tables and ignore them. Some one I knew and used to be close with walked by without a single glance at me or a wave or any form of recognition. Most people I knew, would wave or say “Hey, Rachel.”

We got a lot of weird looks too. I expected that. Just the nature of what we were tabling for demanded that to happen. One guy came up to us and asked, “You’re selling chocolate vaginas? What’s wrong with you?” I don’t think so. He should have been exploring why he felt the need to diminish the validity of women empowerment. Did he feel less secure? Did he feel his masculinity was at stake?

So, I spent my afternoon tabling. While not productive for my schoolwork, was productive for my well-being. I’m generally a quiet reserved person and I don’t get along with other people that well. I do not trust them, as a whole. I stay silent. I do not talk. But I talked with my fellow-tablers. I talked with the people who came up to the table to buy tickets or a chocolate vulva. I feel so much more confident about myself now. I stopped feeling like a woman pretending to be one of the attractive, self-assured, strong, empowered women, and actually am one now.

Also, where we were tabling across from Starbucks, the guy who was working there kept coming over and talking to us. Toward the end, he even brought over a coffee that someone ordered and never picked up. We didn’t drink it because it was burnt, but it was still a very nice gesture.

When I got home, for once, all the ladies of the house were together again. Our schedules are so different this semester, it’s hard for all of us to get together and talk like we used to. But, even though I should have been doing homework and studying, the three of us sat at the kitchen table and talked like we used to when we had time to do such things.

I studied for my History of Jazz exam from when we finished talking to when it was time to leave for call at 5:30pm. More or less. I had to get dressed and ready for the show, too.

At call, we ran over a few things. Set up the stage. Reassured each other everything was going to be great. Simple, last minute preparations. Then it was just waiting.

Last night, two of my roommates, Kayla and Little Chris, were going to watch the show. Sam couldn’t due to assistant stage managing the school’s big musical production of Avenue Q. And Whiskey Kid, yeah, I didn’t expect him to go. But Lance was also driving up from Base Camp specifically to see me and to see my perform.

Just before we left our holding room, one of the cast members said a small prayer to thank God for such a wonderful cast and opportunity and cause, and to ask him to let the performance run smoothly. She said it in such a wonderful, fluent, articulate way. It was great. So much better than when I talk to God, when I’m just like “Uh, hey, God. How’s it going?” Someday I will be able to converse with God in a way I find acceptable and suitable for me. Right now, I just feel like I’m interrupting Him while He’s doing something else important.

The performance went great. Mostly, the cast got all of the lines right. People laughed at all the right spots. People clapped. In the second and third rows, there was a group of women who absolutely loved the show. They were thoroughly enjoying themselves. I think most people there had a good time. During “The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy,” the actress slipped in an unscripted moan to surprise the cast because we heard the monologue run and many of the other moans lost their hilarity. She added in the “Harry Potter moan,” which was a long the lines of Bloody hell! and something about the Chamber of Secrets.

After the performance I was starving because it was 9:00pm and I hadn’t eaten since 3:00pm, and only ate a salad. So, Lance took me out to Governor’s. I thought I was hilarious when I got my haddock sandwich and said “I want to taste the fish. That’s why I ordered it.” Which is a line from “My Angry Vagina.” In addition to the haddock sandwich, I had a really nice glass of white zinfandel. Lance got the Thanksgiving dinner plate. He got cottage cheese as a side. I had never tried cottage cheese because it reminds me of the one time when Daisy, the first family dog, threw up in my brother’s room at the old house. But Lance urged me to try it. It’s good!

When we got back to the house, he gave me a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a nice card. Blender-vase had to make a return because we don’t have any normal vases at the house.

I think it’s the card that means the most to me. In the past, Lance has talked about picking out cards and how much thought he puts into them. How he will take the time to search for the right one. On the front it says: “I’ve never been the same since the day I first met you… ” So I thought it was going to be a sarcastic, smart-assy card. But it wasn’t. Inside it said:

Thank you… for coming into my life. Thank you… for all the happiness you bring to my world. Happy Valentine’s Day.

And I know he means it.

I feel bad because I haven’t gotten anything for him for Valentine’s Day yet. He decided on Thursday night that he was going to do something for me. I didn’t have time on Friday to get something together. I feel awful about it. But his birthday is coming up in two weeks, so I’m going to make sure to make up for a lack of Valentine’s Day present then. I have some general good ideas, but I feel like I need more.

I think that’s about it for yesterday. But yeah. A fantastic day by all means!

 

Oh, Snatch!

Yes, I’m talking about vaginas again. It was the first of two dress rehearsals tonight. It went really well! I got all of my lines and all of my cues correct. Yessssss.

I would encourage anyone to go see The Vagina Monologues, whether it’s at UMaine or at the showing nearest to them.

When I was talking to Lance about the first time he went and saw it (courtesy of his sister dragging him there), he said it made him uncomfortable, but it was beneficial. I think anyone who goes to see it will take something away from it.

There are plenty of people in the world who are incapable of discussing anything of a sexual nature. They can’t even utter the word “sex” or “vagina.” That needs to change. There’s nothing wrong with sex. It doesn’t need to be repressed, just consensual. Everyone can make their personal choices about sex. That’s expected, you know? But don’t shush it up as something people need to be ashamed of.

Maybe it’s because one of my majors is biology, but sex is a part of the natural world. Obviously there’s a time and a place for everything. It’s not okay to talk about sex all the time. Or have sex all the time. Like I said, it should be consensual. And, in my opinion, there should be some sort of emotional care for each other. Not everyone feels that way. That’s their prerogative.

No matter what your own opinions are, The Vagina Monologues open up a forum for discussion. So go see it! It’s informative, it’s educational. It’s fun, it’s silly. It’s serious, it’s somber.

 

Peace. Love. Vaginas.

Yesterday I had to write my cast bio for The Vagina Monologues program. The directors made a list of a few suggestions, but we weren’t to by bound by them. There was the usual: name, major, year in school, how many years of participating in The Vagina Monologues. Within the play, there is a skit called “The List.” What do you know? It’s a list! But not just any list. Eve Ensler, the writer of the Monologues, went and asked women what their vaginas would wear and what their vaginas would say. “The List” is comprised of these answers. The directors of UMaine’s production of The Vagina Monologues suggested we answer these questions ourselves, if we were feeling bold.

So, what would my vagina wear?

As a whole, normal clothes. Sort of the same style I have. Jeans frequently. Nice blouses and sweaters. Dresses ever so often. The main difference is, my vagina would wear a classy, black and white, Kentucky Derby hat with a red lily tucked into the band. Fashion at the Ketucky Derby is about embodying the Southern belle. In other words: poise, class, charm, and a requirement of respect. While attributing some of those qualities to an anatomical feature, my vagina (and my entire person) deserves respect.

What would my vagina say?

Alis volat propriis. It is a Latin phrase translated to “She flies with her own wings.” It’s a quote I’ve embraced for about a year now. My secret motto, if you will. I’m not necessarily a normal person. I deviate from the standard. Some might even say insane. When it comes down to it, I am my own person. Especially now, I don’t live to serve and please other people. There comes a time in our lives, we have to do what makes us happy. I’m not saying not to do nice thins for other people, but you can’t spend all your time thinking about other’s needs when you have plenty of your own. To me, alis volat propriis is about individuality. My vagina can stand behind that. After all, no two vaginas are the same. I’m speaking from a strictly biological view, not experience. Self-reliance is another facet I see in the quote. Sure, there are other people in life that will help you along your way, but I’ve found the only person I can rely on 100% of the time is myself. Maybe my vagina is a bit of a cynic.

My cast bio was much shorter than this. They were only looking for a few sentences after all. Aside from the usual, I only mentioned what my vagina would wear. What it would say would take too much of an explanation.

There are only a couple more weeks until the performance!

!!!

Rehearsals are going well. I have my part mostly memorized, though the cues still elude me somewhat. I know what to say, just not exactly when to say it. Not being a person who speaks in groups (I’m more on an individual basis), I’ve found that I am starting to have a bit of a voice. I don’t feel ostracized and people listen when I speak. Yeah, a lot of what I have to say is just my lines for the skit (I’m in a skit, not a monologue), but still! Progress!

And I have finally found a place where I can just say “vagina.” My mother thinks it’s horrendous that I say “vagina” instead of some euphemism. Euphemisms are generally not my style. Lance and I talked about this once. I told him “I wouldn’t know what else to call it besides vagina!” He rattled off a whole list. And I just shook my head. Slang terms are not for me.

Anyway, I think this is enough about vaginas for now. Have to pace myself, you know? You can’t just go all in at once. To quote one of the monologues: “That’s what foreplay’s about.”

 

But… But… I don’t know how to act!

Last night was the first Vagina Monologues meeting since it was cast before winter break. Considering I went to the meeting, that implies I  auditioned and got a part, which I did and do.

It was a simple informational meeting in order for all us women to get to know each other and to arrange meeting times for rehearsals. As soon as I read the e-mail stating a meeting was to be held, I got nervous.

For those that don’t know, The Vagina Monologues is a play comprised of, who would guess, monologues. Or it is, mostly. There are a few skit-like sections. The play is in conjunction with V-Day. V-Day is a (feminist) movement to prevent and stop violence against women, and to aid the women who have experienced violence.

I had been nervous about the play for a while. When I read the cast list, I said to myself “I don’t know how to act. Shit!” I calmed myself, somewhat, by telling myself I did audition and they did cast me. I have a few anxieties about performing. It’s not about memorizing the lines. On a whole, I have that covered. It’s not about acting in front of people I don’t know. That’s fine. I’m worried about my parents coming up and seeing the show. I’ll find a way to deal with that later.

I was antsy about the meeting. It was a meeting for us to introduce ourselves. What if they asked our reasons for doing The Vagina Monologues? What would I tell them? The truth?

When asked by others, I’ve been giving people the spiel about V-Day and simply claiming it’s a good cause. From there, people just kind of assume it’s a woman thing. Or that I’ve become a feminist. My brother actually called me a “fem-Nazi,” which made me laugh. It is a good cause. I’m not lying, but there’s more to my reason than just that.

I don’t talk about it. My real reason. It’s incriminating to someone else and it’s painful for me. This past summer, when I stopped lying to myself and denying certain things, I realized the truth of the matter. When I realized it, it had been a few years from the occurrence. I felt as though I didn’t have the right to be a victim from it. So, I didn’t let myself be a victim.

When I saw the posts on the University’s e-mail system about the auditions. I thought to myself “It’s finally time to do something about it.”