Shucks: Places, People! Curtain in 5!!

I keep trying to blog about the actual “procedure”. But I’m just getting too emotional about it. In small part its due to the fact that the final room they put you in, alone, before you get the hose was terrifying. Its in there that I totally lost my shit and started hysterically crying and shaking because I was so afraid of the pain and complications. (I’m very sensitive about my vag. My sophmore year of college was spent inside of GYNO clincs because I had a never ending bladder infection, that got all yeasty, then a bacterial infection, then my vagina essentially turned into Fullujah. I was so fucking depressed because I didn’t like my lady-flower constantly poked and proded at. I would randomly burst into tears during pelvic exams. So. yeah. Boo.)

But I’m really trigger shy right now mostly because of a little post-partum depression I’m feeling about this project. Once I write about it then its over, this blog will soon end (as much as I would like it to keep going I’m having a hard time thinking of worthy things to blog about outside of my uterus) , and so will be this small, dramatic, bonding experience.

I used to do a theater growing up (shocking, I know) and it feels like I’m coming up on closing night. What starts off as a very atomized role — memorizing your lines, sitting backstage, working on your character, making out with the egotistical stud of the class, going home after a performance by yourself — becomes a totally communal, cathartic experience. You forge extremely deep bonds with people who, at that moment in time, are the only ones who know every single line in Hamlet. Who all hate the kick-ball-changes in the opening of A Chorus Line. And who all cringe at the same shitty line readings and all swoon when the class starlets coos and writhes on stage. No one else gets it except them.

Through weeks of performances you get exhausted and loathe the people you’re with day in day out. You snap at them. You talk endless amounts of shit. Then all of sudden at curtain call on closing night every one is in tears. No one wants it to be over. People hug and kiss and cry backstage the whole time and then when you finally bow you feel like you could explode from exhaustion and elation.

I’m not ready to wipe off my stage make up yet. Bare with me. I’ll get there soon. :)