My Vagina’s Pissed and I’m not Taking It Any More!
By Kit-Bacon Gressitt / Excuse Me, I’m Writing / Feb. 19, 2012
I first saw The Vagina Monologues in 1998. One of my sisters bought tickets for the women in the family while I was back east for a visit from California. We trundled off to Manhattan to see playwright Eve Ensler perform her one-woman show at an off-Broadway theater. It was a stunning celebration of things down there, one that stunned my then 70-something mother into silence, which was a first and, perhaps, a function of her Depression era Southern upbringing. The rest of us cheered all the way home. The play was, as the title indicates, a lot of talk about vaginas. Or, more accurately, about vulvas, labia and clitorises, pubic hair and orgasms, and the grand diversity of women and girls who possess them — with varying degrees of familiarity.






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