The following is an excerpt from my soon-to-be-published misrememoir, The Unbearable Lightness of Being Awesome.
Chapter 1: Out of the Silent Vagina
It was a dark and fuzzy blight. It took up at least two-thirds of my field of vision. I immediately thought to myself, What in the hell is a blight? Then I thought, What in the hell is a thought? That led to, Who in the hell am I?And that’s when I became sentient.
The blight turned out to be a doctor. I forget his name. But I would venture to guess that he was (or is, he could still be working today, for all I know) a fairly capable physician. He had the distinct pleasure of being the first human being to make contact with me (if you don’t count my mother’s womb or my father’s sperm).
I wonder if he realized it at the time, how important he was. It’s doubtful. In my experience, no one really knows the importance of an event at the time the event occurs. Except me, of course. I knew literally seconds after I was born how important I was and every minute of my life was and is and always will be. Amen.
The doctor/blight held me out as my father/overseer used a pair of surgical scissors to savagely slice in twain the fleshy cord connecting me to my mother/prenatal RV. For a few seconds, I harbored resentment towards my father for this action. Why would a man do this to his first born child? Did he not realize that his offspring was already sentient and thus greatly aware of the searing pain that the slicing scissors inflicted upon me? But then I realized that the cord that had been cloven was not my penis. I breathed a sigh of relief and decided never to jump to conclusions (even though I had yet to learn what jumping was or what conclusions were or the correct usage of the words “to”, “too”, and “two”...oddly enough, I was already keenly aware of how a tutu showed off a girl’s butt).
As soon as I realized my penis was intact, I wanted to show it off to everyone. But a nurse wrapped me in a soft blanket, and I started to drift to sleep. Even to this day, a soft blanket will cause me to drift to sleep and will dampen my desire to show my penis off to people. Yes, soft blankets are the bane of my existence.
I vaguely remember the blanket nurse handing me to my mother. I think she said something about how amazing I was (that’s Mom, always stating the obvious). It seems to me that Dad said something too. Probably a quick lesson on the importance of hard work. Whatever happened immediately after that, I can’t tell you. I had become bored and disinterested for the first time.
It would not be the last time.


