Vagina-ness

I'm proud of myself for being so productive yesterday; I wrote a whole paper and finished a work-in-progress one, read my readings for Writing I (which, well, weren't much, but whatever . . . ), read one-third of my Psychology chapter I just have to know by the next test after Spring Break but am forcing myself to read one chapter a weekend at a time (when I have time, lol . . . ), remembered to borrow Keith's vacuum and vacuum up our disgustingly dirty room that wouldn't have worked under Carol's vacuum (oh, how it leaves hair . . . ew . . . lol . . . ), took out the trash, took out the recycling, and still managed to have some free time ^_^-- and I'm glad I was so productive, because I'm certainly not going to be that way today. I already want to crawl back inside my bed and make the pain go away.

. . . and, now, Robert, don thy earmuffs . . . probably for the rest of the entry, lol . . .

I saw The Vagina Monologues last night with Lisa and Wendy from bowling, since Wendy invited us to go along with her. I enjoyed it; I was definitely curious when I went in. It wasn't unsettling or overly feminist or anything, which was definitely a good thing. For the most part, it was cute, yet it was reverent, respectful, or serious when it needed to be.

One of the girls' characters was exactly like Fairy May from the fall play last year, and she even looked like her (which I did, too-- but the specification in the script was dark hair pulled back into a bun, pale, glasses). So that was amusing-- especially considering hers was the speech in which she described looking at her vagina and trying to find her clitoris on one of those mats at one of those Vagina Workshop thingies I've read about people going to in books and such-- the drama which I can quite certainly see Fairy May's character embracing, lol, rather like that girl . . . I was also deeply amused by the old lady character, even though I felt really, really bad for her . . .

I also started cracking up when these girls started using socks as puppets to represent their vaginas-- "what they would say if they could talk"-- but that was mostly because at the Sex Talk we went to a couple of months ago, there were actually vagina puppets, and when we told Keith about them he kept mimicking them in a very sock-puppet way . . . so when they were doing that I just thought of that and it came out a lot funnier than anyone else in the audience thought . . .

I'm not really sure how the whole Vagina Monologues thing works, though, since it was my first time-- do they do the same monologues each time? Is there some special rotation? Is there like a pick-and-choose set of monologues to choose from? I'm not really sure . . . yeah, anyway . . . lol . . .

After that, I came back to the dorms (and Lisa went off with David), and heard Tiffany's good news about being able to go to England for a semester next year. Then I went and watched Cinderella Man, which I had been wanting to see, with Keith and Henry, until the wee hours of the morning.

. . . and, Lisa, we still need to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou? Spend some spare time with us, or bring David along! Lol . . .

So, now, I've woken up, and I'm recalling the "My Vagina is Angry" speech from last night, because, well, mine rather is . . . and I was kind of wondering why I suddenly weighed the heaviest I had all week, when I had only eaten one meal today, and it was definitely a small meal, not even Center Court . . . I mean, a black bean burger (even with its trimmings, extra pickles, and a few-- and I mean a few, like two or three-- fries from Keith), a small fro-yo, and three pretzel rods do not make one gain three pounds.

( Female Complaints-- Which Nobody Wants To Read, Probably Not Even Females . . .  )

Edit (1:32 pm): Great. Now I feel like I'm going to vomit. I really don't like this, not one little bit . . . and the Student Health Center isn't even open today . . . I really should call Mom and see if I can't go in and get something done about this at some point . . . I can't even work, all I want to do is sleep . . . and just . . . sit there . . . and be in pain . . . not that I want to be in pain, but, you know . . . concentrate on it . . . and make it go away . . . so that I don't throw up . . .

Vagina-ness

I'm proud of myself for being so productive yesterday; I wrote a whole paper and finished a work-in-progress one, read my readings for Writing I (which, well, weren't much, but whatever . . . ), read one-third of my Psychology chapter I just have to know by the next test after Spring Break but am forcing myself to read one chapter a weekend at a time (when I have time, lol . . . ), remembered to borrow Keith's vacuum and vacuum up our disgustingly dirty room that wouldn't have worked under Carol's vacuum (oh, how it leaves hair . . . ew . . . lol . . . ), took out the trash, took out the recycling, and still managed to have some free time ^_^-- and I'm glad I was so productive, because I'm certainly not going to be that way today. I already want to crawl back inside my bed and make the pain go away.

. . . and, now, Robert, don thy earmuffs . . . probably for the rest of the entry, lol . . .

I saw The Vagina Monologues last night with Lisa and Wendy from bowling, since Wendy invited us to go along with her. I enjoyed it; I was definitely curious when I went in. It wasn't unsettling or overly feminist or anything, which was definitely a good thing. For the most part, it was cute, yet it was reverent, respectful, or serious when it needed to be.

One of the girls' characters was exactly like Fairy May from the fall play last year, and she even looked like her (which I did, too-- but the specification in the script was dark hair pulled back into a bun, pale, glasses). So that was amusing-- especially considering hers was the speech in which she described looking at her vagina and trying to find her clitoris on one of those mats at one of those Vagina Workshop thingies I've read about people going to in books and such-- the drama which I can quite certainly see Fairy May's character embracing, lol, rather like that girl . . . I was also deeply amused by the old lady character, even though I felt really, really bad for her . . .

I also started cracking up when these girls started using socks as puppets to represent their vaginas-- "what they would say if they could talk"-- but that was mostly because at the Sex Talk we went to a couple of months ago, there were actually vagina puppets, and when we told Keith about them he kept mimicking them in a very sock-puppet way . . . so when they were doing that I just thought of that and it came out a lot funnier than anyone else in the audience thought . . .

I'm not really sure how the whole Vagina Monologues thing works, though, since it was my first time-- do they do the same monologues each time? Is there some special rotation? Is there like a pick-and-choose set of monologues to choose from? I'm not really sure . . . yeah, anyway . . . lol . . .

After that, I came back to the dorms (and Lisa went off with David), and heard Tiffany's good news about being able to go to England for a semester next year. Then I went and watched Cinderella Man, which I had been wanting to see, with Keith and Henry, until the wee hours of the morning.

. . . and, Lisa, we still need to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou? Spend some spare time with us, or bring David along! Lol . . .

So, now, I've woken up, and I'm recalling the "My Vagina is Angry" speech from last night, because, well, mine rather is . . . and I was kind of wondering why I suddenly weighed the heaviest I had all week, when I had only eaten one meal today, and it was definitely a small meal, not even Center Court . . . I mean, a black bean burger (even with its trimmings, extra pickles, and a few-- and I mean a few, like two or three-- fries from Keith), a small fro-yo, and three pretzel rods do not make one gain three pounds.

( Female Complaints-- Which Nobody Wants To Read, Probably Not Even Females . . .  )

Edit (1:32 pm): Great. Now I feel like I'm going to vomit. I really don't like this, not one little bit . . . and the Student Health Center isn't even open today . . . I really should call Mom and see if I can't go in and get something done about this at some point . . . I can't even work, all I want to do is sleep . . . and just . . . sit there . . . and be in pain . . . not that I want to be in pain, but, you know . . . concentrate on it . . . and make it go away . . . so that I don't throw up . . .