Characters

Girl 1/Man’s Girl

Girl 2

Bathroom Woman

Man

On a screen or a card or some sort of projection, or maybe whispered: I’ve had three different types of orgasms. I don’t know how any of them happened.

SWITCH

In one corner, a bed. Lights up to a low dim on a girl in her bed. It is nighttime and she is in sexy lingerie. She is setting up her pillows meticulously, mounts them and immediately starts to moan like a porn star. I mean, if there’s any way to make this less abrasive and more humorous, do it – maybe it’s a male sex doll, or maybe it’s like a big stuffed animal, or something, but it shouldn’t look like real porn. She stops, readjusts the pillows, remounts and starts moaning again. She grabs her breast. She says something along the lines of “yeah you like that?” and then feels stupid. She stops. She alters the pillows. She pushes down the straps of her bra. She tries again and practically screams. The scream turns into a frustrated grunt. She pushes the pillows off the bed in frustration and then goes flops on the bed. Exits.

SWITCH

Female Sexual Arousal Disorder is similar to what used to be called frigidity. Female Sexual Arousal Disorder is characterized by a persistent or recurrent inability to attain, or to maintain until completion of the sexual activity, an adequate lubrication-swelling response that otherwise is present during female sexual arousal and sexual activity. Of course, there may be other factors involved. Or, of course, there may not be.

SWITCH

A man and a woman at the office making eyes. or really anywhere, but they’re making eyes. the man approaches the woman.

Man: Hey

Girl: Oh hi

Man: heeeyyy

Girl: hi

Man: soooo

Girl: yeah?

Man: I’m so…

Girl: you’re so…

Man: I had

Girl: uh huh

Man: No I

Girl: you what?

Man: this one time I

Girl: uh huh

Man: am I?

Girl: what.

Man: me?

Girl: sigh

Man: I just want

Girl: yeah, what?

Man: you

Girl: oh. me.

Man: you’re

Girl: what?

Man: you

Girl: I’m here

Man: oh yeah

Girl: I am
Man: you are

Girl: I’m from

Man: how cool

Girl: my ex was all like

Man: oh? your ex

Girl: I’m free

Man: thank god

Girl: you’re cool

Man: I’m in

Girl: for what?

Man: Are you free on Friday?

Girl: Oh! Yes. I am.

Man: hot

Girl: I’m hot!

SWITCH

A woman in a bathroom.

Woman: ugh! fuck my fucking cramps!

I’d take midol but it destroys my natural monthly emotional exhale, and I need that to get through my life. I look forward to the extremity of feeling, and the ability to yell FUCK YOU ALL I HAVE MY PERIOD I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT. All my feelings finally have free range because, fuck I can’t control them. And its even better on the pill. oooo on the pill you feel like you’re going to explode from all the ups and downs. I love you, I’m crying, I hate you, you’re oppressing me, I’m confused, I’m sorry I have a lot more estrogen in my body than I should have normally so you’ll just have to excuse my uncensored emotional life.

FUCK MY CRAMPS HURT!

no but really, I mean, I’m tired of taking drugs to make my emotional range as limited as the Marlboro man. I am of water, of the moon, controlled by the tides and by the hormones of the women around me. I want, I don’t want, I want, I don’t want. I feeeeeeeeeeeeel things! I am the beauty of the earth shifting in space, I am the ever changing current of the sea at midnight, so you all can suck it. No. Really. I love my emotions. I cry during sex. I don’t care if I never get married.

She turns on a faucet and gets completely drenched. Like this is normal, she readjusts her make up in the mirror. Sound of dripping.

SWITCH

On a screen or a card or some sort of projection, or maybe whispered: where’s my gspot? search me! a boyfriend of mine found it once. I guess that makes it his.

SWITCH

the girl in her bed. It is dark.This time she is in a baby doll outfit. With pigtails.

She maneuvers the pillows. Rocks back and forth. Maybe makes a little girl noise. Gives up immediately. Exits.

SWITCH

two girls at a table.

1: this guy – he’s really great

2: good. he sounds great.

1: no, like really! he’s just fantastic

2: good

1: he’s smart and kind – you know how I knew he was kind? by his eyes. he’s just got the kindest eyes.

2: yeah. eyes are good indicators of that.

1: and so funny (laughs) he’s just – he’s just – hysterical – I mean – (still laughing) – the other day he said this thing (convulses in hysterics and waves the rest of the sentence away)

2: …

1: (composes herself) he seems to really like me too.

2: that’s important

1: yeah it is. it isn’t always the case though.

2: true

1: yeah

2: …

1: …

2: so good. he sounds great.

1: yeah. no. he is. he’s great.

2: is something wrong?

1: what? no. no really he’s great. it’s just – he’s just. I don’t know, it’s not really important

2: what…

1: he’s just not. that great. in bed. you know? he’s just. he’s just – kind of lame. sexually, that is.

2: how so?

1: well it’s just this one thing. I mean, he’s got that great body, he’s really hot. it’s just this one thing. he – he makes this noise, but he’s not really reacting off of anything that is actually happening. you know?

2: not really.

1: he’s making this noise, but it’s not really in response to anything I’m doing. it’s almost like it’s rehearsed, or like he’s watching a porno in his head and it doesn’t really have to do with the situation at hand.

2: ok

1: and worse than that, the noise he makes is this awful – ugh, just awful – it’s this noise like he’s eating something. like a ripe fruit or something really juicy. it’s not like a sex noise. it’s like … “mmmm oooo”

2: …

1: it really turns me off. it actually really creeps me out. actually. and I can’t have an orgasm. I haven’t had a single orgasm because I’m so weirded out by him in bed that I just can’t. but I don’t think he knows because I always fake it because I just hate the idea of him trying and trying to make me come – you know, that hyper masculine, I’m not a man unless I hear you whine baby, thing that men do – when he isn’t even really having sex with me, he’s having sex with a really great peach doing a strip tease in his head.

2: that makes sense.

1: …

2: …

1: ,,,

2: if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never had an orgasm during sex.

1: never?

2: not once.

1: ohhhh

2: so, there’s that.

1: yeah. that sucks. they’re really great.

2: I bet.

1: yeah.

2: … but I mean, if you’ve been having them, and now you’re not having them any more, that’s probably not a good sign for the relationship

1: sure…

2: …

1: but he does answer the phone every time I call. every time. so… that’s good.

SWITCH

A man and a girl at dinner, on a date. They make exaggerated movements to show their intentions/attentions.

Girl: Yeah?

Man: So

Girl: Totally.

Man: I felt

Girl: mmhmm

Man: When I

Girl: oohhh

Man: And then

Girl: yeah.

Man: I want

Girl: what?

Man: your body.

Girl: ohhh

Man: I’ll fuck you hard

Girl: woah

Man: I mean…

Girl: … yeah I could

Man: hard?

Girl: uh

Man: soft.

Girl: mm…

Man: hard.

Girl: yeah. YEAH.

Man: yeah?

Girl: oh yeah.

Man: oh! ok!

Girl: please

Man: thank you

Girl: you’re welcome

Man: awesome

SWITCH

two girls at a table.

1: I don’t really believe in heterosexuality

2: …

1: I’m not gay

2: I mean, that’s not…

1: It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I just don’t think men and women want the same things.

2: don’t you think you’re generalizing just a little bit

1: no. women and men are different. I mean, not as different as society and cosmo tell us that we are, but still, we want different things, especially when it comes to sex. I just feel controlled and manipulated by men, and

2: and you don’t think you would feel manipulated by women if you were having sex with women

1: no I don’t. women are much more nurturing.

2: ok. I mean, some women are more nurturing. in certain environments, women can be very nurturing. but women can also be unbelievably cruel and manipulative

1: yeah but at least women aren’t always thinking about sex

2: … I don’t…

1: I think my experience is different because I’m a woman. and men want to penetrate me.

2: right

1: and not just that, but that I want them to penetrate me too!

2: right

1: and maybe that’s scary. Maybe that’s not the healthiest way to have a permanent and meaningful relationship with someone – to have them constantly be inside you but you’re never inside them. I mean, and the problem I keep running into is how can I ever have an equal un-patronizing, non-sexually frightening relationship with a man when I really really want him to dominate me and pound me into tomorrow?

2: woah

1: yeah

2: I think you’re doing yourself a big disservice thinking this way.

1: what? why?

2: well, I mean, you’ve just completely negated for yourself the possibility of ever having a permanent, sexually satisfying relationship with anyone.

1: right…

2: including yourself

1: …

SWITCH

the girl watches porn. she is by turns frustrated, bored and disturbed by what she sees. she imitates a few moves. gives up. she imitates a few facial expressions. she gives up. she turns it off.

SWITCH

Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder is characterized as a lack or absence of sexual fantasies and desire for sexual activity for some period of time. Of course, concepts of “normal” levels of sexual desire are culturally dependent. And perhaps gender dependent. Or perhaps not.

SWITCH

the same woman from the bathroom before, still dripping.

I haven’t had an orgasm in months.

…

Let’s be honest.

Turn ons: Sex

he’s turned on, and

you have sex

so… sex and him being turned on

knowing that I’m sexy enough to turn him on

when I’m alone? uh chocolate? haha kidding. …

um … porn I guess. sometimes. sometimes not. sometimes it makes me feel really inadequate. or sad.

so maybe sometimes not at all.

feeling beautiful. definitely. always.

Turn offs:

wondering if there’s something wrong with me…

SWITCH

the man and the girl on the floor of the room. Making out. He takes off her shirt. She starts to shiver violently. He looks concerned. She laughs. He smiles. Her teeth are chattering. He picks her up.

(yes god I’m a woman)

Man: you’re like a perfectly formed fruit.

(what?)

teeth chattering more violently. He carries her to the bed.

(take me)

he puts her down on the bed. He starts to take off her clothes. He makes a noise, but it doesn’t sound like he’s reacting off of anything

(I don’t want this)

she makes a similar noise. He makes a noise like he is eating something very good. She looks at him, teeth chattering

(stop)

she flips him over and puts herself on top of him, moving back and forth

(fuck. … fuck me)

he makes the noise again

Man: (in a creepy voice) I want to fuck you

Girl: … uh huh

Man: I want to fuck you do you want to fuck me

Girl: ….

no

(fuck)

man stops. Girl stops. Lights dim.

SWITCH

the whir of a vibrator. The girl enters determined. She lies on the bed and maneuvers the vibrator. She arches her back and spasms a bit. She starts to get into it. Ow. She has thrown out her back. Fuck this.

Characters

Girl – late teens, early 20s. large role

Little Girl – between the ages of 6 and 10. large role

Boy – late teens, early 20s. medium role

Man – middle aged. Also plays father and psychiatrist. medium role

Woman – middle aged. Also plays mother and bride. small role

Other Girl – late teens, early 20s. small role

Stage Directions – large role

Rule: Based on the structure of bobrauschenbergamerica by Charles Mee in that

1. There are scenes that are based on image to invoke a visceral reaction

2. It is a collage (or a montage depending on how you choose to look at it)

3. It has moments that serve as scenes

The Beginning

(An empty stage with two levels. Girl stands center. A small beam of light covers her. One by one, the Boy, Man, Woman, and Little Girl enter and infiltrate her light. The light grows bigger. There is a bed upstage left. They move around and the light grows to the size of the stage. The Girl stays center trying to maintain her stance but it is no use. The Boy rides by on a bicycle and stops in front of the Girl.)

GIRL

Hey.

BOY

Hey.

(He gives her the bike. He walks off. After a moment, the Girl rides off after him.)

Always a Bridesmaid Part I

(A Woman in a bride gown enters. She smiles. The Girl enters at a run and tackles her to the ground. They struggle. The Bride finally emerges and runs off stage. The Girl, disheveled, runs after her.)

Female Interlude

(The Little Girl skips on stage. She looks out, curtsies, twirls, giggles. The Woman enters and watches. She vaguely attempts to imitate the girl but gives up out of embarrassment. She comes and takes the Girl’s hand.)

His Shirt

(Behind them on the raised level, the Girl walks into his room. She stands. She takes off her coat and lays it on the chair. The Woman and the Little Girl start to exit. She takes down her hair. She pulls off her shirt and throws it on the floor. She sits on the bed and takes off her shoes, then her socks. She stands and removes her sweatpants, then steps out of them. She unhooks her bra and slides it off. She goes to the mirror in her underwear and stands staring. She turns and goes to his closet, finds a blue long sleeve button down shirt and takes it off the hanger. She puts it on, buttons it halfway up so she is just barely covered. She takes the collar and raises it to her face and inhales. Hugs herself, breathes out and curls up on the bed.)

I Love You

VOICEOVER (BOY)

I love you.

(the Girl is surprised. She starts to try to answer.)

I LOVE YOU!

(She is silenced. A small smile. She begins to smile broader.)

I….

Loveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveiloveyouiiiiiii

(She is laughing)

Looooooovvvvveeee

You!

(silence. She continues laughing. Slowly, her laughing subsides. She looks perplexed, then worried. Finally, out of the silence…)

You?

(She points to herself in question. She tries to speak.)

I love….

I you…

You…

Love I love

….

No.

(Silence. She finally gets a moment, takes a breath and tries to speak. Nothing comes out.)

No.

Morning Part I

(Boy enters and gets in bed.

Morning. Girl and Boy in bed. The boy is awake.)

GIRL

Mmmm…

BOY

Morning.

GIRL

Morning. How long have you been awake?

BOY

Oh, like half an hour.

GIRL

Oh. Have you just been…lying here?

BOY

You’re so beautiful when you sleep.

GIRL

Uh huh. Well…thanks.

BOY

I made you something.

(from under his pillow he pulls out a package)

For our one week anniversary.

It’s a mix CD of songs that remind me of you.

GIRL

Oh. Thanks.

(silence.)

I should go.

BOY

(getting up.)

Really? Why?

GIRL

I have to get ready.

(he makes a sad face.)

I’m sorry. I’ll see you later.

BOY

OK. I’ll call you.

GIRL

Sure.

(he pulls her down to him. Kiss.)

Bye.

(goes off platform and downstage. The Boy sits up.)

Information

(Psychiatrist enters and stands upstage)

PSYCHIATRIST

The female

During intercourse

Produces a hormone

Which bonds her to the male

Emotionally

(pause)

No such hormone is produced in the male.

(he comes forward)

Reading Material I

(Woman, Girl, Other Girl and Little Girl enter. Everyone on stage pulls out magazines. The Man reads GQ, The Woman reads Vogue, The Girl reads Cosmo, The Boy reads Maxim, The Other Girl reads Seventeen, and the Little Girl goes back and forth between “My Body Book for Girls” and “My Body Book for Boys” with great interest. Suddenly, the girl in anger throws down her Cosmo. The others look up, then leave except for Boy who stays in bed. The Little Girl returns and sets up a TV at the opposite end of the stage. The Girl turns and looks at it.)

Everyday Moment Part I

(The Girl sits and watches TV.)

LITTLE GIRL

I am still awake

I hope you are in pain

Physical

Emotional

I don’t really care

(The Little Girl sits and watches TV from afar.)

Contest

(The Other Girl enters in a bathing suit. The Girl sees her and takes off her own clothes to reveal her own bathing suit. They stand while the Boy inspects them from the bed. The girls inspect each other. Both pass the test. The Other Girl leaves and The Girl returns to bed. The Little Girl, bored with TV, plays hopscotch. The Woman enters with a broom and sweeps the clothes off stage in one fell swoop. The Little Girl keeps playing.)

Morning Part II

GIRL

Mmmm

BOY

Morning.

(gets up.)

GIRL

(waking up) I had a dream about you last night. We were (turning towards him…) Where are you going?

BOY

Oh. Just to shower.

GIRL

Oh.

(she settles back down. Silence.)

BOY

…Are you staying?

GIRL

…Oh. Yeah, I thought I’d just lie down for a little while. Is that OK?

BOY

I kind of like my mornings to myself.

(The Little Girl stops playing and stares.)

GIRL

Oh.

(getting up.)

Yeah sure.

BOY

Thanks.

(kisses her quickly.)

Bye.

(exits.)

Good Enough

(The Mother enters. The Girl runs to her.)

GIRL

Mother I found a boy!

(During the following speech, the Girl inches back towards the bed and curls up in protection when she gets there. The Little Girl tries to stand up straighter and fixes her dress like a child would do, every once in a while twirling it like a twirly skirt.)

MOTHER

Really?

Is he tall? short? He isn’t short is he? Liberal or Conservative? Is he a Moderate? Attractive? Handsome? “Hot”? What does he want to do with his life? Oh dear, why can’t you find a nice boy who wants to go into business/medicine/law/art/engineering/restoration of old houses? Where did he go to school? How much money does he make? Not that I care about anything like that, but a little money would be nice. And what do you mean “found”? Have you “hooked up” with him? That’s what you say, isn’t it? “Hooked up”? Does that mean kissing? Or something else? Nevermind! I don’t want to know. And I don’t want to know what you’re doing with this boy of yours. (pause) I just want him to be good enough for you.

(The Woman exits)

Everyday Moment Part II

(The Girl sleeps.)

LITTLE GIRL

The change is barely noticeable

But you know because

You’re looking for it

The feeling

Radiates

Tremors to your head and

If you’re lucky

Tingles your feet

A relationship begins

(The Little Girl exits.)

Footsie

(While the Girl sleeps, Feet appear. Multiple feet of all different kinds of people. They play a giant game of footsie. The feet disappear. The Girl wakes up. She is confused.)

An Outburst

ALANIS MORISETTE (singing)

You seem very well.

Things look peaceful.

I’m not quite as well;

I thought you should know.

Did you forget about me

Mr. Duplicity?

I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner.

It was a slap in the face

How quickly I was replaced

And are you thinking of me when you…

(the girl screams over the music as it fades)

GIRL

BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

(She screams until the Boy enters. He gets in bed with his ears covered and slides down. She stops screaming, notices the boy, and cuddles up against him for comfort.)

Boxing Match

(Man and Woman enter from opposite sides with red boxing gloves on. They fight. The Other Girl enters with a score card. The Boy dings the bell. In the end they draw. The Woman exits. The Man grabs a chair and sits downstage. Little Girl brings up her own chair and sits next to him. They hold hands.)

Morning Part III

GIRL

Mmmm

BOY

Mmmm…Morning.

GIRL

Morning. (moment. Suddenly…) What time is it?

BOY

Oh shit.

(looks at clock.)

Shit! We’re late.

GIRL

Shit.

(Girl and Boy jump out of bed.)

BOY

Argh! I fucking hate this!

GIRL

OK, I’ve got to run.

(quick kiss.)

Bye.

(both exit.)

Car Part I

(John Denver’s “For Bobbie” begins to play. A car. The little girl bounces on her seat singing off key, looking out the window and then at her father. Her father sings along, occasionally glancing at his daughter.)

Cleansing Part I

(The Bride runs through and sweeps the chairs off with her in a grand gesture. The Man allows himself to swept off with the Bride, but the Little Girl spies the cosmo and goes to pick it up.)

Reading Material Part II

LITTLE GIRL

Nine Hottest Ways to Please Your Man

One

Start by lightly biting his lip while kissing him

Don’t hurt him!

You’re trying to jump start his motor not break the car

Two

While kissing him

Circle your tongue clockwise three times around the tip of his tongue

Pull out fast and spit in his face

It will drive him c-razy!

Three

Wrap your pinkie finger in seran wrap

Warm seran wrap bathed in lotion

Take it off after 10 minutes

And massage his cheek

Four

Freeze some vodka and pour it all over his body

He might shiver

But that’s because he’s loving it

Five

Stand in front of him

That’s all

Six

Check his hot spots

Especially the ones you haven’t thought of before

Between his index and middle finger

The middle finger itself

The inside of his nostril

Leg hair

He’ll never see it coming

Seven

Strip

But not in front of him

Do it in the room next to him and describe it through the wall.

For extra kink

Tie his feet and hands together and gag him

Eight

Cut his hair

Slowly

Nine

If all else fails

Have sex with him

Apparently

Guys just like getting laid

(Little Girl looks perplexed. The Other Girl enters and takes the magazine from her. The Little Girl exits. The Other Girl studies the Cosmo, and walks off, bumping into the wall as she goes.)

An Explanation

(Girl enters and stands down right. Only her face is lit. She faces the audience. In the background, a projection of a Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers movie without dancing: i.e. the part in “Gay Divorcee” in front of the car in the woods – they don’t dance then. At some point, it flips to Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney not dancing, preferably at a point when there’s a soft focus close up of them staring off into the distance cheek to cheek.)

GIRL

I spent most of 7^th grade indoors.

VOICEOVER (BOY)

Didn’t we all?

GIRL

(laughs) Yeah. I didn’t really have any friends. Well, I mean, I did, but they were really kind of…mean, you know?

VOICEOVER

Yeah, I guess.

GIRL

Yeah, well I mean, I had friends, but they were 7^th grade friends. I mean, you know?

VOICEOVER

Yeah I understand.

GIRL

Well, anyway, I spent all of Spring Break watching old movies. Like real old. Gene Kelley and Cyd Charise old. Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney “Let’s Put on a Show” and I knew all the songs.

VOICEOVER

Who’s Cyd Charise?

(The Little Girl enters dancing. The Woman comes and watches her enviously.)

GIRL

….um she was this incredible dancer. I mean really amazing. She had short dark hair…anyway, it’s not really important. I just, I wanted to be them. I mean, I was this tall, ugly girl with bangs and frizzy hair and bad skin. And I couldn’t sing or dance and I desperately wanted to be able to. And the men. I just wanted someone to come and love me that much. So much that they just had to dance with me in a tux and I would appear in a white flowing dress and suddenly I would be…I don’t know…better. Beautiful.

(The Other Girl enters and dances with the Little Girl. The Girl watches her enviously.)

VOICEOVER

You are beautiful.

GIRL

Oh…well, thanks. But I just meant….I don’t know. Don’t you think dancing is just the most amazing, most romantic experience? Just pulled into a waltz and fuck the crazy aunt and needy heiress waiting downstairs.

VOICEOVER

I guess. I didn’t really watch those movies.

GIRL

Oh. Well, when was the last time you danced with a girl?

VOICEOVER

Um…well I went out to a club a few weeks ago.

GIRL

Oh, no I meant….really danced.

VOICEOVER

(laughs) I guess never.

GIRL

(laughs) Yeah, me neither. But I think it would be nice.

(projection goes off. The Other Girl, Woman and Little Girl all exit.)

The Shirt

(a shirt floats on stage. It hangs in a spotlight. The Girl gazes at it.)

VOICEOVER (OTHER GIRL)

He gave me his shirt four years ago

I still haven’t worn it

…it’s sacred.

(The shirt disappears.)

Everyday Moment Part III

(The Little Girl enters onto raised space. During her speech, the Girl waits for the bus.)

LITTLE GIRL

pictures that mean nothing

from too many years of anger

that bright light that was us

dashed and now

there is no us

(No bus comes.)

The Purpose of the Day

(The Girl crosses the stage.)

VOICEOVER (WOMAN)

A girl crosses the stage.

(The Boy enters opposite and crosses.)

VOICEOVER

She explodes.

(The Girl sees the Boy and explodes. Boy doesn’t notice. He exits. The Girl begins to crawl towards the bed.)

Laughter

(Laughter cascades from all sides. The Girl sinks into herself and tries to hide by closing her eyes. It doesn’t work. The laughter subsides. She continues to crawl.)

Makeup Ballet

(The Woman, Other Girl and Little Girl enter. “I Enjoy Being a Girl” from Flower Drum Song plays. The Woman dances with concealer. The Other Girl dances with mascara. The Little Girl dances with blush. The Woman makes her way off stage. The Girl has reached the bed and is now sitting up, looking out.)

Explaining More

(The Other Girl and The Little Girl come hold hands and look at the stars. They float. After a time, the Other Girl leaves, but the Little Girl continues to gaze. The Father comes out downstage next to the Little Girl. He doesn’t look at the Little Girl but gazes out.)

MAN

There’s Orion

Can you see it? It’s over there.

You can always tell because it has the three stars.

(The Boy sits up in bed.)

That’s his belt. Orion’s belt.

MAN/BOY

Can you see it? It’s right there.

(The Boy enters and stands next to the bed. He too stays facing out. Neither male acknowledges the other although their words overlap.)

BOY

Underneath The / Dipper

MAN (overlapping)

You know it’s there.

Can you/see it?

BOY (overlapping)

See? The Little Dipper is there

And you can always find the Little Dipper / because

MAN (overlapping)

Because the Little Dipper / points to the Big Dipper

BOY (overlapping)

The Big Dipper points to the Little Dipper

And that long white strip of little stars?

That’s the Milky Way.

MAN

It’s all one big sky

BOY

…

One big galaxy

Makes you feel kind of / serene

MAN (overlapping)

Unimportant

MAN/BOY

Doesn’t it?

…

You see?

(The Little Girl is oblivious, lost in her reverie. The Father fades away. The Boy turns towards the bed.)

MAN

Lonely.

BOY

Perfect.

LITTLE GIRL

(As they disappear.) Sleepy.

(She goes to sleep. The Other Girl comes and carries her off.)

Dancing Part I

(“Moon River” begins to play. The Boy snaps out of his reverie and goes to the Girl. He holds out his arms to her and closes his eyes in fear and anticipation. She becomes shy, but accepts and they dance middle school style, arms length apart. It is very pathetic. Eventually they make eye contact, and slowly move closer until they are just swaying and holding each other. The Man in a tux and the Woman in a white ball gown waltz on, and dance themselves across the stage and off. Soon after this, the Boy disappears. The Girl does not notice and continues to sway. Suddenly she realizes she is alone. She is embarrassed, and sits on the bed in confusion.)

Pleasure and Pain

(Sounds become audible. The sounds build. It becomes clear they are the sounds of two people having sex. Subtle at first; bed creaking, breathing. The Girl listens. to the sounds and very slowly smiles. The sounds escalate. Moaning can be heard. The Girl looks lost in memory. Her smile wavers. Suddenly….)

VOICEOVER (OTHER GIRL)

FUCK ME!

(Girl freezes in her reverie. Sounds continue. The girl looks shocked.)

VOICEOVER (BOY)

Yeah! Yeah, you like that?!

VOICEOVER (OG)

Yes! Yes!

VOICEOVER (B)

Oh FUCK YEAH!

(Girl becomes ashamed. She begins to cry. The crying turns into anger, morphing into pain. She crumples. During this, the dialogue continues in a similar vein to above. Then it escalates while Girl becomes stone faced and rigid…)

VOICEOVERS

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES! AHHHHHH!!!!!

(The Girl is shaken. She grabs a chair and sits downstage. The psychiatrist enters, taking his time with his chair. He sits opposite her.)

Professional Help Part I

(The psychiatrist enters. The psychiatrist’s office. Girl sits in chair. Psychiatrist, an older man who looks remarkably like Father, sits opposite. Silence.)

GIRL

(sighing, continuing) Well, she was beautiful, you know?

(no response. Above them both, The Other Girl appears in beautiful spotlight.)

I mean like really beautiful. She had this long brown hair and this amazing figure.

And she was short!

(The Other Girl laughs. Psychiatrist raises eyebrows)

And she was a singer.

(The Other Girl starts singing voice warm up scales beautifully. The Girl is aware of her.)

I wanted so badly to sing.

And I couldn’t

And she could

And all I wanted

Was that voice

That ability to connect through song

I mean, how amazing is that

To connect through song.

I was jealous of her from the first time I saw her.

(Silence. The Girl fidgets. The Other Girl fidgets. The psychiatrist remains completely placid. The girl’s voice remains nonchalant.)

Well, anyway

I knew she would replace me

(The Other Girl looks at her.)

I mean I knew.

She was perfect for him.

Their personalities just

I don’t know

Clicked

In a way ours never could.

And I was jealous of that too.

(Stillness.)

You know he once told me

That the song “Lay Lady Lay”

Reminded him of her.

…

“His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean

And you’re the best thing that he’s ever seen.”

I used to love that song.

(Girl looks down. The Other Girl starts humming “Lay Lady Lay”)

And I guess

I felt lower.

I mean

I was lower.

I mean not really

I don’t really think I’m lower

I do but I don’t

(Psychiatrist and Other Girl raise their eyebrows. The Other Girl starts singing “Lay Lady Lay” The Mother enters and sits on the bed watching.)

I couldn’t get her out of my head

I used to vomit when I heard her name

I’m still terrified I’ll run into her.

Isn’t that ridiculous?

It’s been two years

And I’m still scared that I’ll see her and

I don’t know

Punch her

Run out into traffic

(The Other Girl stops singing.)

I called him up once late at night

Because I had to

And he was in bed with her

And I thought I was going to die

Those first few months

I thought I was going to die

That I should just die

(Spotlight goes out on The Other Girl. A Beat.)

I always say that he broke my heart

But it was really her.

(The psychiatrist takes some notes. The Girl gets up from her chair and walks away.)

Comfort

(The Mother holds out her arms. The Girl goes to her and hugs her. The mother holds her daughter. As she does this, the Boy appears and the Man stands. They stare. The men exit. Mother and daughter remain still.)

Comparison

(The Mother exits as the Girl’s attention is drawn to The Other Girl, who crosses the stage running. She bounces along in short shorts and a tank top in time to “She’s So Damn Hot” by OK Go. After a moment, she is followed by The Boy. The Girl watches.)

Coping

(The Mother enters with various types of chocolate: syrup, cookies, candy bars, cake, pudding, etc. She gives them to the Girl and exits. The Girl comes center and stops. She rubs the chocolate all over her body. She bathes in the chocolate. A shower of potato chips falls from the sky. She goes and collapses on the bed.)

Aftermath

(The Girl lies in bed. She cannot get up.)

VOICEOVER

Come play!

VOICEOVER

Come out!

VOICEOVER

Come party!

VOICEOVER

Come on!

(She turns over.)

Morning Part IV

(Boy enters and gets in bed. Morning. Girl and Boy in bed.)

GIRL

Mmmm….

BOY

Mmmm….Morning

GIRL

Morning Tyler. ROBERT! SORRY!

(Bells and Whistles go off. Sirens. Boy leaps out of bed. Girl leaps out of bed. Chaos! They rip everything off the bed, leaving it stark then run off in opposite directions.)

The Bride

(The bride enters. She looks cautiously to both sides. When confident that no one is watching, she does a cartwheel. Then another. She looks up sheepishly. The Little Girl enters and does a cartwheel in imitation. The Bride doesn’t notice. She takes out a daisy and plays “he loves me/he loves me not” with it. The Little Girl cartwheels off.)

Always a Bridesmaid Part II

(The Girl runs on stage to the Bride. At the same time, The Other Girl runs on from the opposite side to the Bride. A moment. The Bride looks worried. The Other Girl stares from Bride to Girl and back, then kicks the Bride. The Bride hobbles off. The Girl and Other Girl stare at each other a moment and then sit. The Girl takes out some jacks and the two begin to play.)

Male Interlude

(The Boy and Man enter. They stand awkwardly. The Boy starts to speak, then stops himself. The Man stares him down. The Mother enters and takes the Other Girl’s place playing jacks. The Other Girl exits. The men turn and watch them play.)

Female Interlude Interrupted

(The Boy comes over and violently kicks the jacks away. The Man comes over and grabs the Mother while the Boy grabs the Girl. They are wrenched apart. It is desperate. The Mother is pulled off while the Girl is pulled downstage. The Boy lets go of her and exits.)

Alone

(The Girl stands alone. Eventually the Boy reenters.)

Wishing and Hoping and Thinking and Praying

(The Boy and The Girl sit.)

GIRL

Can I talk to you for a second.

BOY

Sure. Sit down.

GIRL

So…I talked to him.

BOY

Yeah? And?

GIRL

Not good.

BOY

Oh man. What happened?

GIRL

I don’t know.

I don’t think he’s interested.

BOY

That’s not true.

GIRL

C’mon.

He stands there and smiles

And I smile

And it’s stupid, you know.

I’m stupid.

BOY

You’re not stupid

GIRL

I am stupid.

Not stupid, just totally and completely moronic.

And stupid.

…

I’m lonely.

BOY

I know.

(he holds her.)

GIRL

I shouldn’t be so lonely.

I just

Am.

Whatever.

BOY

No not whatever

But you can’t harp on this guy forever.

There are other guys out there.

And I know you’ll find someone.

(Girl laughs)

You will! Don’t give me that shit.

(Girl laughs again. Moves closer.)

He’s not good enough for you anyway.

(Girl looks at him. A moment. Cell phone rings.)

Shit, sorry.

(He moves away. Looks at cell phone.)

Shit, it’s umm

GIRL

Oh, yeah.

I should go anyway.

Tell her I say hi.

BOY

I will.

(Boy gets up to exit.)

You gonna be ok?

GIRL

Yeah sure I’ll be fine.

Thanks.

Bye.

(He has already picked up his cell phone.)

BOY

(into cell) Hey.

(waves to her. He exits.)

Car Part II

(John Denver’s “For Bobbie” begins to play. The Man enters and sits next to the Girl. A car. Father and daughter sit silently staring ahead. After a time of listening, the father reaches out his hand. The daughter looks at her father, takes his hand, then looks out front. A moment.)

Cleansing Part II

(The Bride runs through and in an attempt to sweep everything off, she knocks everything down and manages to break something valuable. Everyone stares. She walks off dejected. The Boy comes on and cleans up after her. The Other Girl goes off and then comes back on and runs past with a broom.)

Professional Help Part II

(The psychiatrist’s office. Girl goes to sit in chair. Psychiatrist, an older man who looks remarkably like Father, sits opposite. Silence.)

GIRL

So

I called him up

To ask him if he wanted to go to a movie with me that night

Just to, you know

Solidify a relationship I had been so sure of

(The Little Girl appears above them and pretends to pick up a phone as though she were playing a game.)

This was the winter of my freshman year at college.

(Psychiatrist nods.)

OK

Well, he said no.

VOICEOVER (MALE)

No.

(Girl looks down. The Little Girl stops playing and stares in shock)

GIRL

I didn’t really understand what was so painful about the rejection

I just wanted to see a movie with him.

(The Little Girl starts to cry.)

He turned me down.

And I guess I was just hurt.

Really hurt.

(pause. She starts to cry.)

Anyway, I didn’t ever say anything to him about it.

(The Little Girl shakes her head vigorously.)

PSYCHIATRIST

Why not?

GIRL/LITTLE GIRL

I didn’t know how.

GIRL

I guess it just feels like since college

He’s pushed me away.

I was his little girl

And now it’s all about my brother

He’s “ma’ boy!”

“ma’ son!”

And I don’t really fit in anywhere.

And I know father daughter relationships change

But

I want so badly to find a way to relate to him

So I can stop trying to impress him the way I used to impress him

LITTLE GIRL

Because that doesn’t really impress him anymore. (pause)

GIRL

I think

He started to remove himself from me when I was 16

(Girl gets up and walks to stark bed. The psychiatrist exits through the next bit.)

Because I had this boyfriend

And I wasn’t his little girl anymore

And I feel guilty

Because I didn’t notice until I went to college

And it was too late.

(The psychiatrist has exited with chairs.)

Everyday Moment Part IV

(The Little Girl sits. During her speech, the Girl stares at the bed.)

LITTLE GIRL

over you

it only means

no longer longing

for something past

but rather longing

for feeling something

at all

(The Little Girl goes over and drops a flower by the Girl; a single daisy. She exits.)

Morning Part V

VOICEOVER (WOMAN)

Mmmmm

VOICEOVER (MAN)

(breathes in.) Morning.

VOICEOVER (W)

Oh! (giggles) Morning.

VOICEOVER (M)

How did you sleep?

VOICEOVER (W)

(turning in sleepy stretching)

Mmmmm….So well.

VOICEOVER (M)

Good.

(Sleepy silence. The Girl looks at the flower.)

VOICEOVER (W)

Is that for me?

VOICEOVER (M)

(tickles her)

Who else would it be for?

(Woman laughs. She turns towards him. Silence.)

God, I could lie here all day.

VOICEOVER (W)

Me too. Thank God it’s Sunday.

(kiss.)

VOICEOVER (W)

Mmmm….

Dancing Part II

(“Someone to Watch Over Me” sung by Frank Sinatra begins to play. The Girl starts to sway. She looks around and sees she is alone. She moves in time with the music towards center. She dances. The light refocuses until it is only on her. Blackout.)

and insufficient as a city

while speeding past the neighborhoods unknown

and not even thinking of them possibly

except to say “oh that’s Cerritos

and over there is Silver Lake

no I don’t really go there”

but rather confined to the sub-urban

in every town unto itself

a car! a car! I cried as I walked the streets alone

past boys in mini-yards

of grass no good for laying on

sub-rural too and yet

I’m happy there

I never thought my voice would form a word of love

for such a strange hot anti-city

but here it is, from me to that big sprawling basin

I would take your sky high highways and surface sprawl

and dotted pools and heated endless days

the fame which sits on fabled hills

taunting pulses out above the city

strive! strive! the upward slog to unattainable fame

and all the hidden people who don’t care

that their city stands for money, glory, america’s dream

they take their own dreams

ignoring Hollywood in cul-de-sacs to say “oh I don’t really go there”

I would take your unglamour most of all

because I want to own it, sleep in it, and call it my home

I would take it all and trade you for my New York life

for a chance to get to know you better

and call you what you are

of women just trying to be people

letting men be people just trying to be people

and reveling in the beauty of it all

I am a card carrying feminist of the forefront pedigree

and I carry the card because the card keeps me careful

of my sorrys and my silences and my sweet stuck-on smile

but also of my bitchy bullshit and my desperate need to assert my authority

over other women

and to remind me that I do not have to be afraid to flirt and fall for a man

and also to be careful (because I am not safe yet)

I am a feminazi

(although I thought that term fell out of fashion)

and I claim with all my might that sometimes I might cry hysterically

but that does not make it hysteria

except that sometimes it does

and that I do not have to apologize any more

except that sometimes I am wrong

and that sometimes I say one thing

but then turn it around and amend it to mean another

and that does not make me crazy

(stop using that word – crazy

if I were crazy, you would know it, and it would not be so humorous)

not crazy, just changeable and malleable and human like the moon

because I am not utilitarian like a man is fabled and supposed to be

I am just me and I live in the contradictions that I am

you have no idea what it is like inside my head

I am post-feminist third wave unchartered

and I yell at my mother for telling me to wear overalls and go to school

but also wouldn’t it be better if I found a man too

and I yell at my feminist queer teachers

who taught me that I am weaker for my sexual proclivities

and that I am too preoccupied with men

and I yell at all the older generation

for making me believe I had to be like man to have a voice that sang like power

til I stalked around in steal toes afraid to be beautiful

when the pounding male power is not my power

and made me want to rip my skin off because I was not perfect pretty

and I have had to unlearn everything I came to believe about who I had become

which is only possible because of these women

I stand unsure, knowing, still and grateful, in that deepest way I can’t express

that I would have no voice without these women

because despite it all I owe them everything

and finally, I am a woman

because, of course, I am not a man

whatever either of those two terms means (no of course. I do not believe in of course)

I am feminine (I discovered far too late)

because I believe myself to be a woman

and believing myself to be a woman

I am thrilled to find all these little inlets into what that term

and all the weight of baggage of hundreds of thousands of years of oppression

(oh but it all disappeared in thirty years

thirty years and poof! all gone!)

what every nook and crany of my gender means and can become

with all the history, real and dreamed and mine and not mine at all,

I am third wave, no wave, end of wave

because I believe that I can believe in my own femininity

while also confronting that term at its root

and revel in the blood and oozing wetness and inherent contradictions

of all my tears and screams and sex itself

and I am of a wave to say

that I acknowledge that men too suffer

because (as a woman) I have held the suffering men

and kissed womanly tears and listened to emasculated sighs

it is not that I say no you cannot suffer too

but that I, for once, though patient (like a woman) and listening (like a woman)

am finally, for all my compassion,

still curious and concerned with me

And she could list a million clichés about the state of the union

Or the state of her soul

Or the city she loves covered in snow and waiting her out

But the streets don’t make her feel special

And she’s beginning to think that’s fucked up

Since he touched her hips on a loud and unforgiving Saturday night

She’s felt beautiful

Though in the morning she remembered

He probably touches everyone like that

In bed and in her ears everywhere there ring new sounds

Joyous music and faces stretched in anguished anticipation

Maybe this year

Maybe now

And still her boots make no impressions

So fragile as to make you want to hold the very imprints where she put her foot

Not like King Wenceslas singing choruses of male voices to female pages

Oh baby Christmas has passed and January has set up shop in a dying economy

Not a good time to get fired everyone says

She keeps thinking it’s the perfect time to start over

The world at once looks bleak and bright

And the subway cars smell like burning rubber

And the people smell like hope

Never a better time she repeats and to the beat of her clicking heels it sounds like

Go

but that wasn’t the point
the point was the band
at the end of the night
the whole reason to stay and to drive and to fly to your arms
the big garage band
seemed almost stunned still
standing up on the stage
and offered the press of us all
a whole album
for us! their whole album
one song at a time

the music was all except for the dancing
and I swirled in a sweatshirt that had once been yours
and you closed your eyes and moaned your head back
like you do over food
over sex
over anything passionate present and real
you sucked air through your teeth and took both of my hands
and we danced and we jumped and I smiled because
never had anyone made me want to dance like you did
and I really like dancing
really I do
we cleared out a space and like every time else
all else disappeared
except me and the music and your raptured self

and the hippies, of course
dancing behind you for all the world
with hula hoops and props of all sorts
interpretive dances, competitive dances
with feathers and fedoras they danced
and sometimes I laughed because I was joyful
and sometimes I laughed because of them and their joy
and sometimes I laughed because I felt free

it was music forever but really just for an hour
then we piled like everyone else into line
for longer than we had listened to music
but the music continued while we waited for buses
to take us back to my second home city
we clung to each other in sleepy standing stillness
and waited because there was no other choice
but really it could have been worse
the night air was cool and the island looked over the bay
to the perfect skyline all covered with stars
and there were balloons! a long tethered line with little blue lights
were floating away on a string, a lost arc
an arc, a huge arc cut loose like fish
now a stairway to jet liners
cutting its lit way through the perfect dark night

the air was all music and blue light balloons
but back here on earth it was perfect and right

no art just fire and fighting fury

but the boys across the water were blowing blue and white and red

big bangs on the horizon reflected on the sound

and glug the sound engulfed us in its bubble

like the whole Puget had swallowed us whole with every burst of patriotic glory

and it looked like magic like real perfection from far away

oh we were young that night even the children

who, playing with sparklers, were unaware of our pathetic show

which must have looked like nothing to the boys across the bay

just flashes or moments so carefully planned

while wizz bang next door had the market cornered on spontaneity

with white light levity screaming upwards towards the sky

half of our random bursts were swallowed up by waves anyway

it didn’t matter though

with cigarettes dangling dangerously from corners of mouths of men

whose tattooed guffaws echoed occasionally around the bonfire

where clams were passed and tightened belts pulled loose

“let’s get it together boys” the patriarch yelled from his beach chair

and we laughed our beer swill laugh and smiled in the crackling light at one another

because we weren’t here for a show but for a moment of connection after all

and frankly in my out of town opinion

though we nodded the sad fact of failure across the sand

the far off fireworks though tracked and lovely

and living up to all they should have been

from our small swatch of land on our own secluded spot

seemed unable to spring up above the hilly horizon

but hung low and timid close to home

whereas ours (when they went off)

ours seemed infinite in their momentous potential

and leapt to touch the very firmament to burst from contact with the cloudy night

because the truth of fireworks is fixed and personal

that while you never know until you light the fire what will be

when they boom explode or buzz and fizzle out

that in culmination of the endless day and darkening night

they exist insistently as moments for the only ones beneath their sometime glory

who, fixed in awe, alone can feel their contemplative power

and no one else can understand

On the phone and it sounded far away

Coming from a girl he had kissed one time and barely knew

Calling (like he was) to say goodbye and so long and nice to meet you too

For there were other women on his mind

From long ago and living far away now who didn’t think of him anymore

But still, he thought

It’s not fair to hurt her he said in an email

Which was meant to be kind and to let her off the emotional hook

Except here she was saying she’d write love songs for him in the meantime

Between the now and the future lovers she’d have

And maybe at fifty

And maybe with children

And maybe forever and ever she would remember this one kiss

A kiss on a sidewalk street for him and for no one else

Which was (for him and no one else) a moment lost in time

That could be something, he knew

But never would be (he knew in that moment)

Before he caught the cab and she rode the line

He thought he’d made it obvious and said so

Oh of course, she replied

I knew that this was coming but I can’t help that part of me

The part of me that could of loved you does

And always will

She smiled

With that matter of fact moment she smiled through the phone lines

And hung up

Leaving him staring at the wall in front of him

Admiring with terror her absolute sense of her own emotional state

Wondering if he didn’t just miss his chance for immortality

Wondering if maybe he should call her back again and ask again

For just one note of his song

you make me want to write for days

and carve living letters on all the trees to make a note for you so epic

it could mirror all the California landscapes

and it would feel like home

you are inspiring to me he said

and I would take those trees you marked across

with your bright pink pen and perfect note

and drag them by their roots around

to spell this back around to you again