Here’s my question: What was Eve Ensler thinking when she started writing the first monologue for The Vagina Monologues? I’m basically one hundred and twenty percent sure that she didn’t just wake up one sunny morning with her vagina speaking to her; I’m basing this off the fact that my vagina has never spoken to me. I reckon that what really happened was that she was moved to write about the plight of women today. But real talk, who other than the angry middle aged female would want to sit and soberly listen to that? When my girlfriends and I discuss our woes and those of other women in the world it involves wine and tequila. So home-girl got clever.
Mama Ensler inspired me.
I am only twenty, but I can do this. Not alone. But that’s what my friends are for, if I can’t fabricate a story via my panty tales than I’ll borrow from a friend’s real life experiences.
So my goal: to take a whack at creative realism.
It’s going to be a comical, emotional, and naturally, crass ride.
No comments:
Post a Comment