Vajayjay Monologues

I went to the Vagina Monologues last weekend. I've been wanting to blog about it for a while. It'll be a week since I've been and I cannot stop thinking about how much I want to blog about it. It's kinda hard to get the image of a flaming red head with an Irish accent throwing a bitch fit about tampons while she sits propped in a chair, legs raised spread eagle towards the entire audience. That's a brave woman right there. I feel uncomfortable sitting Indian style. (Native American style to be politically correct?)

Emmy and I had been chatting before the show about the people involved. She saw one of her friend's evil roommates was on the production team. Apparently she had stepped on quite a few toes and trampled a few people to get up there. Emmy also saw one of her old Sociology TA's. Small world.

It was a powerful thing. The purpose of the event was to raise money for abused women around the world, as well as promote awareness. They had various knick knacks for sale. Emmy got a pin that said "Vagina Warrior", while mine said "The Vagina Monologues" and had different words for the vag in the background: cootchie snortcher, vajayjay, taco you name it they pretty much had it on there. They even had chocolate vagina lollipops.

The monologue that struck me the most was the one about a young girl repeatedly abused in Bosnia by soldiers. They'd shove guns and whatever else they could find in her "down there" to the point where she held part of the lip in one of her hands at one time. Several women in the audience shuddered and covered their mouths, some even compelled to place their hands over their downstairs much like a guy would do if his family jewels were being threatened.

During intermission they raffled off some vagina friendly toys. Lube, vibrators, shot glasses they thought of everything. I found it hilarious that a middle age woman jumped with excitement as her number was called. She then proceeded to slide the vibrator she had won into her purse with a serious expression across her face. Fun fact: Apparently vibrators are banned in some of the Southern States.

"Oh no honey we are not goin dhere!" laughed a 40 year old woman with the thickest Puerto Rican accent I had heard in person. She and her friends laughed behind us as Emmy and I tried our hardest not to turn around.

Kristin, one of the editors of the magazine I write for called Inc!te, was in a few skits. She was in the dance number and I couldn't imagine having my parents watch me be straddled by another girl. But there were her parents, cool and snapping away with their digital cameras as their daughter wrapped her leg around another girl in the dance number.

They showed a slideshow as well with videos of people being asked "What is the first thing you think of when you hear the word vagina?" To my surprise, I saw Patrick Rembert's confused face up on the screen, speecheless for the first time. I was sitting anxiously in my seat waiting for him to say something ridiculous. He's so quiet here compared to what he is back in Long Beach.

The concluding act was a monologue about well a girl who liked to please girls. All the girls got into a line as she gave descriptions of the different moans women make during sex. Each cast member reproduced the respective moan. Some of them I can't even remember the names of but their sounds will remain forever in my mind.

At the end the tone got more serious, and they asked us to all participate in an exercise. They asked all who have been sexually abused to stand up. Men and women peppered in the crowd stood up. They then asked who knows someone who has been a victim. More bodies steadily rose. Emmy and I remained sitting turning around in all directions to take it all in. The last one asked for those who were going to put a stop to it to stand. Emmy and I stood up.

Her Sociology TA and the evil roommate had both stood up on the first one. We couldn't believe it.