toothless whore

Here's the review!

“Wong Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Solo artist Kristina Wong unveils a string of imaginative surprises as she supposedly examines the high rates of depression and suicide among Asian American women. She darts around this grim subject with the kind of meta-theatrical wit that creates one of the funniest shows in town and engenders a level of audience participation that’s enthusiastic without becoming embarrassing. Then she ends with a sobering coda -- another kind of surprise after all the laughs. It’s a wild ride, and Wong’s a magnetically energizing artist. TeAda Productions is the host. Miles Playhouse, Santa Monica. (310) 998-8765. http://teada.org. Closes Oct. 5.”--- Don Shirley, LA City Beat

Today was kind of depressing. I was supposed to take the day off, but instead I moped around the apartment. Passed out for a few hours and woke up in my own drool contemplating the world's unreality.

The run is going well. We've had audience. We could stand to perhaps have a little more audience, especially in such a big theater. But the ones who've come are valuable and have been attentive.

I am grateful for many things about how the run has gone so far.

*Lots of people who don't know me are coming. *The stage with all the lights is beautiful. *There are all these volunteers helping behind the scenes so that I can be an artist. *The reception was unreal... ("All this for me?") Things I am hoping for.

*That friends who have known me for a while and have never seen my work, or at least have very poor assumptions of what my work looks like... will come to the show. *That the company producing me will be able to break even with their investment in the show. *That I might recuperate at least a small fraction of my financial investment in this show. (Right now, I will not make any money from this run. I'm actually losing money. : *That I will actually inspire people to dialogue about depression and suicide.Last week while chewing gum, part of my tooth broke off in my mouth. It was my molar, third from the back. And now I have a nice little hole for food to collect in. Like a built in holiday feeder in my mouth.

I've been calling all sorts of free clinics today to get help. I called the USC dentistry school who work on people but it is a very time consuming process. All the free clinics seem to have had budget cuts (ironically, the government is bailing out the fat cats but can't help me get a little cement put on this tooth back here.) The last time I had dental insurance three years ago, the guy told me I had to get a root canal and found $1500 in repairs in my mouth the half second I opened my mouth. Sounded like a big sham to me. Dentists have become salesmen. It's sad that I can't even trust a dentist these days.

I may break down and call a regular old LA dentist. I called my dentist uncle in San Francisco who I wouldn't be able to see for another month when I can get up there. But my gums are bleeding and it's a big mess back there right now because of the broken tooth. I just don't want to get screwed.

There's one section of my show about trying to get free mental health services in America. It's a process of searching that's liable to make you more crazy than before you started looking for help. It's not easy to get much of any kind of health services for free here in the "free world." But god forbid you ever get sick here because it will cost you.

My first year of college, I fell off my bunk bed. More remarkable, I wasn't even drunk. I limped around campus for a good week, moaning, howling in pain, moving at the third of the speed of a senior citizen. I had no idea if I had a simple sprain or had actually broken a bone. I had insurance then but was cautioned by my mother many times that using insurance would just drive up my rates. So even in the most pain of pain, I didn't think to use it.... even though it was getting impossible to function.

My roommates at the time, couldn't stand the howling any more and called the SHAs (student health advocates-- basically pre-med students) to come check on me. Seeing as they weren't really doctors, they just called the campus hospital for me. And I wailed with those EMTs screaming, "I don't care if this is broken! I can't pay for it! If the insurance co-pay doesn hurt me, my mother will kill me!"

But in some dramatic lift off, they wheeled me out of the dorm on a gurney, through a busy lobby of students. For some reason I chose to wear this Holly Hobbit dress that day and looked Britney Spears a la early 2008 as I was pulled out of there.

As it turns out nothing was broken. They bandaged me up. It still cost $100.

I stumbled home.