I bought myself some fake nails this morning, I was gonna go to the Higher Education and You class down at the community college, but my country mix tape was in the car and pretty soon I was driving the Strip instead, singing along with Shania, and when I saw Neon Nail Glamour flashing right between Perfect Pets and Photo X-Press, I figured I knew a sign when I saw one. So I strolled right in and asked the manicurist for gold sparkle polish to match my bumblebee costume I bought at Wal-Mart, $29.99 but worth it, I had to wear something to work tonight at the mall, and last year's Barbie won't cut it, not with that cleavage, and at least this way if the Pixie Sticks break again and spill bright sticky pollen down my dress I'll still be in character. And hey, what a shimmery little bee I was with my three-inch heels (sequins on the toes) and wings of blonde hair teased out to there, and it felt good passing out fistfuls of SweetTarts and BottlePops to all the little lions and belly dancers, giving extra candy to the really cute ones, and if a father or two had one hand on a stroller and the other on my butt, well, chalk it up to the holiday spirit. But now it's midnight and the spirit's done left, I'm home in an empty apartment with just a black cat that won't cross anyone's path, not even mine, and my feet kill and my hair's died and I can only get one contact out (these damn nails) so when I turn out my light and squint my way to bed, all I can see are my glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, blinking on when I wink open one eye, blinking off when I wink open the other.
Back to the study...: