“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
― George Bernard Shaw, writer
I saw “The Vagina Monologues” tonight with a couple of friends from the Living Single group I helped launch. For those who don’t know about “The Vagina Monologues,” it is a production based on the play written by author Eve Ensler. The play focuses on everything that pertains to women, our bodies and our experiences (sex, rape, menstruation, violence, sexuality, etc). I remember seeing it for the first time in Rochester, NY with my then girlfriend and I loved it! So I had to see it again with my friends, Leslie and Kilissa and it was being performed at the Unitarian Universalist Church in the City of Buffalo. Here’s the poster:
Leslie and I were the first to arrive, but the doors were locked and it had just begun snowing. You would think that, because I hate the cold and snow, that I would have enough common sense to put on a heavy coat. However, that wasn’t nearly an option because 1) my coat smelled like pee (long story, but I will tell you it’s not my pee and 2) my winter vest wasn’t available because I was attacked by soap that ejected from a broken dispenser handle. So my only option was a light pink jacket and I was freezing.
Anyway, Leslie and I sat in her car until at least 7:00 p.m. We pretty much ran to the church doors because it was -100 degrees outside and, once inside we were able to take our seats in the sanctuary. Leslie, Kilissa and myself sat in this church, trying to have a conversation as classic Janet Jackson songs blasted from a boombox in the corner. Then the show finally started; I either laughed at the funny stories or remained somber listening to stories of women being raped in Kosovo. My favorite monologue was called “The Woman Who Liked to Make Vaginas Happy.” It’s about a dominatrix who enjoyed making women happy and shared the kind of moans she loved. My personal favorite? The African American moan: “Ahhhhh shit.” It sounds better when the actress moaned it (lowercase lol).
Anyway, after the production, Leslie and I went to this restaurant called Merge, where they basically sell all things good vegetarian and vegan. First and foremost, they have THE best fuckin’ cider I’ve ever drank. It was so hot and semi-sweet with an huge slice of apple decorating the mouth of the cup. It tasted like apple filling and it was so magically delicious that I shared it with Leslie and Capacine (who joined Leslie and I later on).
At Merge, we ate and talked about the crazy dating scene in the Buffalo area and how the pickings seems to be very slim. That was when I saw the most gorgeous man fly into the restaurant! He had wavy storm gray hair, a leather jacket, blue jeans and a black grey tie. And glasses. He looked nerdy and I wanted him right then and there. AND Leslie knows him. Unfortunately, he is very taken, she tells me and I’m like “Fuck.” Yet this doesn’t change the fact that I could not think about anyone else for about 5 minutes.
I would tell you that the night ended with me paying for my food, hugging my friends goodnight and calling it a night before being dropped off. Nope. I forgot my debit card at home–in one of my coat pockets–and I freak the hell out. I literally had to get a ride home to get my card. Meanwhile, poor Leslie waited at Merge, telling the waitress what happened! But that’s my life and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make indie movie-type mistakes like this. Though I hope to cut them down to a minimum.
Luckily, the waitress wasn’t pissed at all and we were able to get out of there without being blacklisted. It began snowing pretty hard, so I am just glad to be home, in bed and writing.
The reason why I’m telling you all this is because I want to show that there is life beyond trauma. When I started this blog, my goal was to connect to those who suffered from trauma of some sort. As time went on, however, I found that I was focusing on trauma instead of writing about my life. I cannot let trauma define who I am or let it control me and what I do. What I am learning is that there is life beyond the pain and suffering I once endured. I don’t have to write about tragedy. Why do so when I have a life to live?