So I was reading dooce’s latest where she recounts her hilarious dream about being asked to roast Brad Pitt and mentions that he has been at the top of her List for ages. You know, the List everyone has of People They Are Allowed To Have Sex With, If The Opportunity Presents Itself, Without Getting Dumped By Their Actual Significant Other.
Which got me thinking about Lists and who is on mine and the fact that Mr. Pitt, as intergalactically hot as he is, is not. In fact, he has never cracked the top ten. He’s somewhere down in the thirties, though he rises temporarily into the mid-twenties every time I see Fight Club. Angelina Jolie, on the other hand…
Anyway, so what do I dream about last night? Apparently in an alternate universe, I am on Mr. Pitt’s List. In this dream, he follows me around some office building, trying to chat with me. Once he succeeds in that, he moves on to attempted snuggles. The whole time I am thinking, “Why are you hanging around? You are a big star and I hardly know you. And I have work to do.”
I must admit that he finally did win me over, to some extent, and snuggling did commence but it was very chaste. I began to wonder if I should kiss him, just to see if it was any good or if I was wasting time that could be better spent filing. So I kissed him and he looked surprised, which I found very amusing and prompted me to say, “It’s my evil plan!” and laugh.
Which is when I woke up. I lay there for a few minutes, thinking that dreaming about being pursued by #36 is a seriously WTF way to spend the night. But wait, there’s more.
I fell back to sleep and dreamed that I was at karaoke, except I wasn’t singing, I was doing engineering for these two musicians. One of them had some kind of instrument like a triangle from Mars — a silver rod all bent into a million contortions that she would whack with another silver rod and make music. Sometimes she’d tap the bent rod and it would keep playing a melody for several minutes. It was fascinating.
And then she is done playing and people start leaving and I pack up my engineering crap into this huge duffel bag and out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Pitt and his entourage get up from a table and come toward me. I’m thinking, Has he been waiting this whole time? He’s wearing his big mirrored aviator glasses. He walks up and says hi and we both pick up the duffel bag at the same time. I’m like, Dude, I can carry my own duffel bag.
