dreams: June 19, 1998

late for P.E. class

I'm at Swarthmore. I'm late to my P.E. class. I have to run back to my dorm room and change into my baggy sweatpants and t-shirt first. I look at my watch; it's already 8 o'clock, meaning I'll be late. I see Nooshi and Ila walking across campus, and they're already dressed for P.E. I get to my dorm room (which is huge), and lots of people are in the hall and in my room. I talk to a guy who is there.

the body waxing

NEXT, I'm sitting on the front porch at John's house. A group of people are with me (like Thomas Milsom?). We're talking about how lots and lots of people we know have been getting full body waxings lately. We're joking about it. Suddenly I'm in a body salon with a couple girlfriends. They're going to get full body waxings. I'm trying to decide what to do. I lying on my back next to two friends. A woman comes up to us and taps me on the foot, signaling that she's ready for the next one to come in -- and it's me! I consent and follow her into a room in the back.
I sit down at a round table. A young short woman with dark curly hair is going to do the first step on me; she looks familiar. She has a round container filled with pink runny gunk, and she's stirring it with a ladle. She's talking to her friends, not seeming to pay attention to me. She takes a scoop of the stuff and dumps it onto my upper lip (the skin between my lips and nose); it's to bleach the hair there. It runs down onto my lips. I'm upset that she's doing such a sloppy job. I stand up and spit the goop out, making it spray out in front of me. How toxic is this shit? I wipe it all off in a huff. I say I'm going to do a much better job myself, so I pick up the container and carefully ladle it back onto my upper lip. I see that there are bits of cherries in it; I try to get as many cherry chunks as possible, convinced that they are key in the bleaching process. I try not to let it run (but it's hard since the stuff is so liquidy). I wait a few minutes and then decide it's time to wipe it off. After doing so, I see that the hair there is still dark. It didn't do a thing. I tell the woman that I'm not going to pay her anything. As I talk to her I realize that she and I used to be good friends. It's Mariam, from Parma, Italy! We reminisce about the good ole times. I feel more compassionate about what just happened during the "body waxing."

- FIN -

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