animal parade

i've been snacking on children's vitamin/suppliment samples at work. my new favorite is Animal Parade's "Warm Milk." they cost over fifty cents each at retail, and since i'd probably need 3-4 for my weight, i just put several sample packs in a paper bag to take home. but i accidentally left them at work, and now i'm still up.

i doubt the lacticum and magnesium are as much the cause of sleepiness as the soothing packaging with its marshmallowy text and sweet, creamy "dreamy vanilla" white tiger shaped chewables.

that and the hot water bottle i put on my stomach before i go to sleep, and that i moved my bed against the wall, those things help. my fuzzy brown zebra blanket. i like to sleep with the windows open so i can hear the crickets, and so dew collects on the metal bedframe in the morning. i like to pretend that i, too, am a big, sleepy tiger.

*        *         *

Today a woman came into work who my coworker tim identified as "one of our best customers."
"oh, a fresh face!" said she, so i smiled. "this is ariel." tim said, and then talk about my name, and so on, and then she said:

"i have a neice named aria. it's a beautiful name. too bad she turned out so bad." (i laugh nervously). "she's a s**t."

tim says "oh no." and the woman proceeds to talk about what an awful person she is, how she slept around with everyone starting freshman year in high school and how she "gave her parents hell" and had two children out of wed-lock, and, now she has cancer, but "who can really feel sorry for her? i mean, i do feel sorry for her, but then i think if anyone really diserved it, she'd be the one."

"what kind of cancer is it?" i ask sensitively, nervously.
"something in her jaw..." and i feel a mix of relief (that it's not cervical cancer) and guilt.
then the talk turned to politics, illegal immigration in particular.

it was horrible.

*          *           *

so the dream starts out that i'm with sara and kelcie (who don't really know each other in real life) and we're going to go to a lesbian club, but then we end up at this house party and i'm lying on this couch next to this guy with stereotypical good looks.

"you must really want some." he says
"what indicates that?" i asks
"the way you're lying." then i realize i'm in a very "f**k-me" position.
"yeah," i say sleepily, "i guess you're right."

he leans in and starts to get on top of me, whispering about what a little s**t i am... i "wake up" eight hours later with no recollection of the previous night.

friends: "man, you were really into f*****g that guy last night."
"what?"
"yeah, that guy on the couch. you were f****n' each other's brains out all night."
"really? s**t. i can't remember any of that. *sigh* this is awful."
"you can't remember anything from last night?"
"no. thank god."
"what's the last thing you remember?"
"um...he got on me, er, i was unbuttoning my shirt. uh--that's it. that's the end."

*        *         *

i've been horny as a mother f****r all day. probably the horniest i've been in a single day in several months. it makes me feel guilty. but it only lasted about until the moment all this blood came out of me. then it was gone, and i was back, mostly, to a more subdued and introverted me. sometimes MattE touches my breasts when we watch televsion, and i yelled at him today for being irritating, which felt good. rightly assertive. i like feeling that way, and that bleeding makes me feel more sensitive.

i don't feel all that creative, though. but maybe it's because i spent so much time reorganizing the samples at work. maybe tomorrow i'll ask dad for gas money so i can drive up to riverdale and get some cheap piece of furniture to rip apart and put back together. is the salvation army closed on sundays? sunday is such a bullshit day to have off.

*           *           *

"and who do you think's gonna bail california out? WE are. those democrats just keep giving out handouts like candy. everyone wants something for nothing. everyone wants a handout."