Saturday, January 07, 2012

Dinklage Dreams

I know I've quoted this Max Beerbohm nugget a million times before: People who insist on telling their dreams are among the terrors of the breakfast table [actually, I think I may have attributed it to Mark Twain. One of the many reasons I don't write non-fiction]. Still, I can't help but tell you about this dream I had last night:

Matt and I were at an Ikea-like store. I think we may have been shopping for bunk beds. This sales girls, who I believe was played by a real-life waitress I had yesterday, was laying on a bed and rubbing her bare feet over and over across Matt's face. He was obviously peeved but wouldn't say anything. So I left and was walking around. At one point I had to blow my nose (I hate bodily functions in dreams), and I went into a gigantic, grocery store-sized bathroom that happened to be filled with Super Pretzel machines! I blew my nose in a napkin. When I left, I ran into Peter Dinklage. I wrapped my arms around him and said, "Thank god there's someone cool here, Dinklage." He seemed both annoyed and flattered. Then I tried to take a nap with him. He wouldn't stand for that, and soon Matt came over, fumbling with a wrapped box. Standing next to him was Gibby from iCarly! At the exact same time, Matt presented me with an engagement ring and Gibby asked, "Will you go to prom with me?"

I quite liked this dream. I hope Peter Dinklage and Gibby appear in many more of my dreams. And next time I don't have a dream cold.

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