I'm off to the beach for a sexless Valentine's Day. I can't have any fun for 2 weeks. I really couldn't have picked a worse time. My fiance's birthday was Tuesday and Saturday is that stupid overrated love holiday.
Frankly, I think it should be call V Day and I think it should be a day to raise awareness about the mysterious snatch.
Every year at my college the women's group performed the Vagina Monologues on Valentine's Day weekend. My senior year I got on board and performed My Short Skirt in the production. It was a lot of fun.
So on Saturday, instead of whispering sweet nothings into your honey's ear. Take a moment to talk to someone you know about your muff and, more importantly, your pelvic pain. It's time to give V Day a whole new meaning.
I hate the word and I never used it in my blog, but let's shout it out. Vagina!
Here's an excerpt from the Introduction to Eve Ensler's Vagina Monologues:
Woman 1:
I bet you're worried.
Woman 2:
We were worried.
Woman 3:
We were worried about vaginas.
Woman 1:
We were worried about what we think about vaginas, and even more worried that we don't think about them. We were worried about our own vaginas. They needed a context of other vaginas- a community, a culture of vaginas. There's so much darkness and secrecy surrounding them - like the Bermuda triangle. Nobody every reports back from there.
Happy V Day, Ladies.
