The thing that you need to know about me is that I get incredibly invested in things that are not entirely real. Television shows, books and movies, for instance. I adorded The West Wing and cried to that show more times than I can probably remember. When Mark Harmon guest starred as the agent in charge of guarding CJ and then died just as they were about to start dating? I was a wreck for about a week. But it’s not just dramas that make you believe in something better; it’s any show that I watch regularly. Like Charmed. Or ER. Or NCIS. I dont’ always continue watching the entire series (see The West Wing when the originators left the show or ER when Dr. Carter left) but when I watch them I invest myself in them.
So you can imagine what it’s like when I’m reading true stories about real people. Real people who I could have feasibly run into while I lived in San Francisco. I love reading their stories and getting a glimpse into their lives. So much so that I sometimes I actually dream about them. But not in any sort of creepy way.
Last night I dreamt that I somehow met up with Kristen and Holly and were invited to dooce’s house to watch movies. I left before all of the details were hammered out and met up with a friend. But while I was out with my friend I realized that I didn’t know what time to be at dooce’s. So, of course, I leave without my phone. Somehow, though, when I leave my friend’s house in San Francisco I’m magically transported back to Southern California. And without my phone I can’t call so I decide to just go over to the Armstrong household (how I get to Utah and not be able to get to San Francisco is beyond me).
So there I am in Utah, where it’s cold, standing on the front porch of the Heather and Jon’s house. I knock but no one answers so I decide to just walk in, rationalizing that she invited me over so why not just walk in like we’re old friends. I mean, we totally met that one time so we’re practically old friends.
The downstairs of the Armstrong dream house is huge. And completely empty. So I just sort of stand there and look around. Then Leta comes down the stairs and says something that I’m sure was adorable but that I can’t remember. And then Jon comes in from out of nowher with a bowl of popcorn and acts like a random girl standing in his front room is not completely weird. He just looks at me and says, “Are you one of the people Heather invited over for the movie?” I say yes and tell him that I can’t remember the time and he replies that it’s not until seven and then walks upstairs with his popcorn.
I wish I could be a little more in depth on the dream, but I’ve only just remembered that I had it. I have some weird dreams that I can’t remember – I only have Wes in the morning saying, “Do you remember the dream you had last night?” and the only reason he remembers is that sometimes I wake him up whimpering (which is actually screaming in my dream, or possibly yelling) or saying something.
Anyway, the point of all that is that holy heck I spend a lot of time reading these people to start dreaming about them. But I’m not going to stop. I love their writing and their stories and it’s totally worth it if I have the occasional dream with them in it that doesn’t cross any creepy lines. The first creep dream I have with a blogger in it I might have to cut back.