and so v-day went
Feb. 15th, 2003 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rkton friday, i went and saw what had to be The Worst production of the Vagina monologues ever possible, at a certain ivy league university whose name starts with the letter C. now, i love, love, love 80s music and dance. i even think there are a few monologues to which the music could be added, maybe, if the person knew what she was doing.
this person really didn’t.
and she added it to All of them.
i’ve seen Vagina monologues performed well in the barren midwest, more than once it was enjoyable. i expected something better. i mean, it’s new fucking york. i was not thinking i’d end up watching the equivalent of a middle/high school production. but i swear, i might as well have been. (this is where i must remember to just breathe.)
and then there’s the booty thing. i’m all about shaking one’s booty. but there’s shaking one’s booty for sexual empowerment, etc. and there’s shaking one’s booty as a form of sexualization. yes, there is a difference. this was very much low-grade sexualization. which, again, fine, whatever, but this was the mutterfocking Vagina monologues (for chrissakes).
ok. ok. i think i know i’m supposed to be a member of the mtv generation. and this was supposed to be appealing to me? but i hate so much of/about my generation already. this really did not help. nor, did it help my general opinion of people.
honestly, the whole thing trivialized the points of the monologues themselves.
i could continue my rant, but i think that would be bad for my blood pressure.
and my headache is starting to return. and i’m not sure how many of you care anyway.
(did i mention though, that they gave away a brazillian bikini wax as a raffle prize? this was After the audience learned you can’t love a Vagina if you don’t love hair.)
but one final tirade on this experience: please people, if you’re going to see anything theater-related, like the Vagina monologues, and anything really, except maybe rocky horror picture show or porn or somethiing of that debased nature, have a little bit of courtesy and don’t spend copious amounts of time shoving your tongue down someone else’s throat. if that’s what you want to be doing, then go ahead and do it. i have nothing against the practice. just at least take it outside, or to a bar, or a room of your own. i don’t care. just someplace else.
not in front of me while i’m watching the Vagina monologues for chirissake.
have some respect. (the inner-prude, it seems, is not entirely dead, maybe.)
now i’m sounding like a bitter old woman. i’m not old, just bitter.
and not even bitter about the single thing. and i’m not bitter because i had to spend my valentine’s day alone, because i didn’t. (and, anyway, see below on another day for thoughts on valentine’s.) but, just bitter because i can be.
i’m not sure if i would have stayed for the whole thing if i Had gone alone and not with someone who actually has a brain. brains, i must continue to say, are beautiful things. (and to prevent anyone from trying to correct me, it would probably be more accurate to say the ones who possess and use their brains, are beautiful people. but not beautiful people like in that song.)
but at least i learned more about myself friday night. which is always a most wonderful thing. people (read: persons) are good for many things. and that’s one of them: helping you help yourself. wow, i’m being obtuse. i should quit while i’m ahead.
but at least this week i won’t have to deal with people asking me if i’m okay just because i get stuck on pensive-mode. pensive mode has dissipated overnight. i think Talking helps. okay, okay, i know it does.
oh i didn’t make it to the protest. i decided i just wasn’t up for it. alas.
this person really didn’t.
and she added it to All of them.
i’ve seen Vagina monologues performed well in the barren midwest, more than once it was enjoyable. i expected something better. i mean, it’s new fucking york. i was not thinking i’d end up watching the equivalent of a middle/high school production. but i swear, i might as well have been. (this is where i must remember to just breathe.)
and then there’s the booty thing. i’m all about shaking one’s booty. but there’s shaking one’s booty for sexual empowerment, etc. and there’s shaking one’s booty as a form of sexualization. yes, there is a difference. this was very much low-grade sexualization. which, again, fine, whatever, but this was the mutterfocking Vagina monologues (for chrissakes).
ok. ok. i think i know i’m supposed to be a member of the mtv generation. and this was supposed to be appealing to me? but i hate so much of/about my generation already. this really did not help. nor, did it help my general opinion of people.
honestly, the whole thing trivialized the points of the monologues themselves.
i could continue my rant, but i think that would be bad for my blood pressure.
and my headache is starting to return. and i’m not sure how many of you care anyway.
(did i mention though, that they gave away a brazillian bikini wax as a raffle prize? this was After the audience learned you can’t love a Vagina if you don’t love hair.)
but one final tirade on this experience: please people, if you’re going to see anything theater-related, like the Vagina monologues, and anything really, except maybe rocky horror picture show or porn or somethiing of that debased nature, have a little bit of courtesy and don’t spend copious amounts of time shoving your tongue down someone else’s throat. if that’s what you want to be doing, then go ahead and do it. i have nothing against the practice. just at least take it outside, or to a bar, or a room of your own. i don’t care. just someplace else.
not in front of me while i’m watching the Vagina monologues for chirissake.
have some respect. (the inner-prude, it seems, is not entirely dead, maybe.)
now i’m sounding like a bitter old woman. i’m not old, just bitter.
and not even bitter about the single thing. and i’m not bitter because i had to spend my valentine’s day alone, because i didn’t. (and, anyway, see below on another day for thoughts on valentine’s.) but, just bitter because i can be.
i’m not sure if i would have stayed for the whole thing if i Had gone alone and not with someone who actually has a brain. brains, i must continue to say, are beautiful things. (and to prevent anyone from trying to correct me, it would probably be more accurate to say the ones who possess and use their brains, are beautiful people. but not beautiful people like in that song.)
but at least i learned more about myself friday night. which is always a most wonderful thing. people (read: persons) are good for many things. and that’s one of them: helping you help yourself. wow, i’m being obtuse. i should quit while i’m ahead.
but at least this week i won’t have to deal with people asking me if i’m okay just because i get stuck on pensive-mode. pensive mode has dissipated overnight. i think Talking helps. okay, okay, i know it does.
oh i didn’t make it to the protest. i decided i just wasn’t up for it. alas.
