February 12, 2008 § 1 Comment
In my life, I have had four dreams featuring celebrities.
Number one featured Edward Norton, the first entity that ever captured my interest enough be a “fan.” I don’t believe I have been a fan of anyone, or anything, since. Well, let me clarify. I am often a fan in the “Wow, I am a fan of this yogurt” sense, but I wouldn’t paste pictures of the yogurt on my wall or ask for its autograph. But anyway, in my high school fantasty dream, Ed shows up in my kitchen, asks me to marry him, and we make out against the sink.
Number two featured (surprise, surprise) Brad Pitt. I can probably chalk this up to my Fight Club obsession, but then again, what girl hasn’t dreamed about Brad Pitt? The dream was not suitable for children. But honestly, what kind of girl has a platonic dream about Sir Brad? (ps. it was excellent.)
In number three, Brad makes a return appearance! Except this time, he appears not as a sexual fantasy, but as a person. A real, down to earth person. And he seemed kind of depressed! In the dream, I stopped at the mall on my way home. It was late and the mall was empty. I wasn’t wearing any shoes. As I walked past the food court, I noticed Brad Pitt sitting at a table with his agent. Then Brad got up and we had one of those awkward moments where you find yourself walking in the same direction as someone, at the same speed, so you might as well acknowledge each other. And so tactfully introduced myself, telling him that I thought he was very talented. He replied graciously enough, but with a tone that suggested he was tired of hearing how great he was. And then I mentioned his particularly inspiring performance in Fight Club, and a meek smile came to his lips and he said, “Yes, that was a great film wasn’t it?” And we chatted about Fight Club until we reached the parking lot, where we shook hands, said goodbye, and got into our respective car and limo.
Apparently I am the kind of girl to have a platonic dream about Brad Pitt.
Dream number four happened last night, and considering the high caliber of my previous guest stars, surprised me greatly when it decided to cast Macaulay Culkin as my opposite. We were at a music festival, with swingsets. I sat down on a swing, not realizing he was occupying the other swing. I introduced myself, and so did he, and we spent the entire day together, running around this pretty countryside. I even think we went swimming. In my dream Macaulay had severe ADD, among other things, and was a total weirdo. He was probably on drugs, which isn’t too far off from reality.
Are my celebrity dreams becoming strictly platonic episodes in which I diagnose and deal with their psychological issues? Am I turning into a platonic dream companion for lonely and troubled stars?
Let’s hope not. I have enough to deal with without being responsible for the mental health of the rich and famous while I’m asleep.