April 29, 2012
My friend and I were driving somewhere recently and talk turned to unsatisfying dreams. She’d had a dream about an old boyfriend who had not aged gracefully. She realized, to her horror, that she’d left her nice and wonderful husband for him. I admitted to a dream in which I had a romantic relationship with John Cusack, a man for whom I hold no affection or attraction. Should he stand in front of my house with a boom box and Peter Gabriel blasting, I’d just open the window and yell, “Turn that down or I’m calling the police, crazy pants!”
Other men who’ve shown up in my dreams for no good reason are (and don’t tell anyone, okay?): Jim Cantore from the Weather Channel (inspiring Lavinia’s comment about him in SOMEBODY TO LOVE); Mike Barnicle, the 60-something-year-old commentator from a morning news show I don’t even watch; and Christopher Walken, who alternately terrifies and delights me.
That being said, I’ve had a very wonderful dream about Jeremy Renner recently. I’m going to focus on that one and try to forget the above. Much better, right?