Danrambles’s Weblog

Three days later, I talked to my friend for the first time since the party. He immediately asked me if I had screwed the Indian that night. I told him of course not, and that I thought they had hooked up. “No, I went to sleep on the couch and he went into your bedroom.” I was so confused… and the next morning called Turbin to see if it were true. Indian said he had gone into my room, couldn’t get me to wake up, and eventually went to sleep. The next morning he again tried to wake me, with no luck, and left.

What happened during that ‘eventually?’ I’m so bothered about this.. even a week later. I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. My cell phone can ring all night and I’ll never hear it, and I have to set multiple clock alarms at full volume for me to get up on time in the morning. One time I literally had sex with a boyfriend while asleep, and awoke to cumming while at the same time yelling out, “what the hell’s happening?!?” My ex, the possible rapist, thought that I was playing and trying to be sexy by pretending to be asleep as he started to fool around with me. Who the hell pretends to be asleep to be sexy? I had a boner in my sleep and apparently moaned a little and he thought that I was totally awake and proceeded to ride me. Waking up to getting off is about the most confusing way to wake up ever, second only to a parakeet crawling up your butt. (I’ve never had a parakeet crawl up my ass… but I’m guessing it’d be pretty alarming to wake up to)

The point is I have no idea what ‘we’ did that night. I know I slept naked, and don’t own a bed that’s thirty feet wide, so at some point we had to have at least brushed one another. I really wonder if he tried cuddling with me (hurl)… or worse yet screwed me. I know (from experience) that Indians aren’t the most hung of the races, and that I probably wouldn’t feel much even if I were awake. So I definitely wouldn’t have woken up to that. For all I know I could be expecting right now, and should be sewing little baby-sized turbins and looking up recipes for curry rather than typing this blog. I checked the mirror since and don’t have a rhinestone on my forehead, or anywhere else, at least. That’s a good sign.

I have parties and after-parties at my house fairly often, and still have no locks on any of my doors. Now I’m going to be worried everytime, and wonder what else may have happened at past parties that I don’t know about. Obviously, I would have had no idea that he was in there had my friend not informed me days later. I guess I’m going to have to be like “Home Alone” now and scatter about my bedroom floor broken christmas tree ornaments and bells.

Oh… and in case you’re wondering, my projective due date is June 2009…. I’ll be registered at the Kwik-E-Mart.