Last Week I had a pretty bonkers dream and since I woke up and actually remembered it, I wrote it down. So now I can share with you whatever it is that's wrong with me.
Before I can begin to describe this dream I should make one important announcement. I have become a huge fan of Heidi Montag. I am aware that she's not all that popular. Girls in particular seem to despise her. But me? I'm a big fan.
A couple of things for the record. I agree with what appears to be the common consensus: When compared to other beautiful celebrities, HM is not all that pretty. However I suspect that if she walked into my office right now she'd be pretty darn popular. Yes I know she's all plastic and fake, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I think she's got a hot body. So there's that, I'm a terrible person.
Also I have never seen the Hills ("The City" however is a different matter and I am quite partial to Olivia). Supposedly my new favorite singer doesn't come off so well on "reality" television. Whatever. I'm not into her for her looks, or her personality. I'm attracted to the artist.
She makes bad music (and bad music videos) in a way that I don't think I've ever seen before. As far as I can tell it's a revolution. There have been plenty of videos lampooning her masterpiece "Higher" so I'm not going to go into too much detail about how much I adore this video (I've watched it hundreds of times now). Let me just give you a few quick highlights.
1) Count how many times she raises her hands out dramatically to her sides. It's almost her only move...almost.
2) at about 1:40 in this video you will see the sexiest booty move ever to be ruined by a lack of co-ordination. Ever. Period. This has to be on purpose. Michael Scott can't be this awkward.
3) My other favorite moments are parts of the final cut of the video that were obviously meant for the "behind-the-scenes-bloopers reel" and yet somehow snuck their way into the actual video:
At 1:00 Heidi actually falls (while attempting her "raise your hands" move).
At 1:57 Heidi actually stops performing to respond to something that happens off-camera. I dunno...some fan shouting hello? A whale washing up on shore? Something. We don't get to see it. That's the genius of it. The director leaves it up to US and our imagination. Brilliant.
Anyway, back to my dream.
The dream began with me doing something very normal. I was watching the Heidi Montag video "Higher". As you can tell, I know this video pretty much backwards and forwards, and it quickly became obvious that I was not watching the standard version of the video. It was some "special edition" with actual film cameras and crane shots. Heidi was climbing a grassy hill instead of frolicking on the beach and the centerpiece of the video is some man being raised on a platform high(er) above the water on a nearby lake.
Than I was the man on the platform. I am so high(er) above the water that it's positively terrifying. I can see a boat down below and I know that there is some sort of film crew there and maybe a party. Why am I up so high(er)? I can't even remember. I know I have to jump though and so I do.
I plummet towards the lake and fall for a long time. I close my eyes and stiffen my body...bracing for an impact that takes forever to come. But it finally does and the next moment I'm being helped onto the boat. For someone who has just jumped into a lake I'm surprisingly dry (and in street clothes). I also realize that the boat isn't just some normal utility vehicle. It's actually more like a historical cruise ship. Maybe an old steamboat? It's filled with rooms that are made to look like scenes from the 1870's or something.
It's also filled with beautiful party people. More specifically beautiful party ladies. College ladies. It's basically girls gone wild on a floating museum but not quite so topless. I think some of my friends might be on the boat. I'm pretty sure my cousin Eric is, but I don't see any of them. I end up talking to a stunning young woman while wandering through all the different rooms on the steamer.
We pass through bars and a comedy club. We walk along the deck (which now looks more like a modern cruise ship...holy crap I think I'm on the love boat all of a sudden). Anyway at some point it becomes clear that what we are doing is looking for some privacy. However, unlike a "normal" dream (where there are no real rules or consequences), I don't seem to hanging out on Fantasy Porn Island.
I'm struck with an actual moral dilemma. The me in the dream is the same person as the me doing the dreaming in one important respect: we both have a girlfriend. The temptation this opportunity is presenting me is so powerful, and I am very conflicted.
This is the "tossing and turning" portion of the dream. I know that if I submit, no one will ever know that I've done something wrong...but I still don't want to be the guy who does something mean and shallow. I want to be the good guy.
Anyway I come pretty close to being the bad guy but in the end decide not to (hooray...probably). Instead I go to the fancy restaurant and have dinner with some strangers.
We are all sitting around the table talking when this cartoon waiter, with a huge mustache comes by. He goes around the table unfolding napkins and laying them on our laps, then he slips something into my coat. It's bulky and heavy like a glass of some kind. It slips down the side of my chest and falls onto the floor.
The waiter looks at me like I've done something wrong, picks up the item and gives it to me again. I look at it and realize it's some kind of plastic urinal and bed pan. It's a contraption that will allow me to sit there and eat without having to get up to use the restroom. I assure the waiter that I am quite comfortable leaving the table and that I won't be needing those things. (Again...another moral dilemma solved by me)
I decide to exit the restaurant and return to the party. I step outside into the backyard of the house that I grew up in. There are people at the barbecue, people swimming, people in the hot tub. My friend Danika is there and she tells me that there is one crucial ingredient missing from this party -- Giant balloons shaped like tits, and filled with chili. Seriously...this is something that my waking mind would never have come up with. Never in a million years.
"They are so awesome!" She gushes. She is so excited about these...these things that she finally convinces me to go find some. They are clearly a "must have".
Strangely enough I discover that we actually have some of these in the house. I go across the street to borrow some chili and get to work assembling the titty-balloons.
My last memory of this dream as a view of my old backyard, drenched in sunshine and filled with happy people. Happy people who are bouncing giant inflatable boobs (filled with chili) around like beach balls.
I almost never remember my dreams but last nights managed to stick with me so I figured I'd write it down and share it with you.
It's sometime in the early 90's and I'm at Lallapalooza (it's a period piece dream) with Liz. Somehow Liz has managed to get us backstage and we are hanging out in this lounge area. Musicians are cruisin around and Liz is sitting on some ratty couch talking to an musician who is a combination of the chicks from Sonic Youth, and Hole, and Liz Phair. I'm eating from the deli table.
Eventually I walk over and sit down next to Liz. Suddenly I realize that seated to my right is Gwen Steffani (still in No Doubt of course). It's a big couch but for some reason she's pressed right up against me. We start talking but it becomes obvious that she's not really talking TO me, more AT me.
In fact she wont shut the fuck up. I keep trying to participate and get a word in, but she talks right over me. She's the most annoying woman I've ever met at this point.
After a while of this I notice james Iha from Smashing Pumpkins has entered the room. He moves around without walking. It's as if there are microscopic wheels under his feet and he just rolls from place to place. All throughout the dream he rolls in and out of sight with a distant and pensive look on his face.
It's around this time that Wendy shows up. She dives head first onto the deli table and starts taking pictures of everything. Food goes everywhere, but no one seems to really pay attention. They just go aobut their buisness while Wendy (covered in vegetables, deli-meats, and ranch dressing) snaps photos of everything.
That's about it.
I used to have these sort of "hangin out with celebrity" dreams all the time in high school. Specifically I remember one where Metallica has come to town to play center court at the La Costa Hotel and Spa (for some reason). While at the show I discover that the real band is actually just hanging out inside a booth while holographic copies are performing on stage. Naturally they reward my curiosity by asking me to hang out and jam with them.
Last night I dreamt that Heather was warning me about one of her friends.
"Be careful", she said, "She has really sharp nipples...They can cut you"
When I woke up I wasn't sure if I had dreamt it or not so I asked her if she has actually told me that the night before. The confused and almost frightened "no" I got in response was really amusing.
One thing that was not a dream last night was the Fleetwood Mac concert. I went with H-bomb, her sister, and her friend Kelowna. It was probably my third concert experience at Coors, and I would say it was fairly average. Our seats (which were too far from the stage to really see anything) were definitely not worth the 80 dollars we paid.
The performance itself was pretty good though. You always run a certain risk when attending "classic rock concerts", because the people on stage tend to look like my parents pretending to be rock stars. In Stevie Nicks's case, she looks like my mom dressed for the renaissance fair, pretending to be a rock star. Even though Nicks came off as a little tired to me and Buckingham came off as a little retarded, it was still a solid performance from the veteran super-band.
By far the most entertaining member of the band was the wild-eyed drummer, who managed to throw together an enjoyable drum solo due to the fact that he had synth drum pads sewn into his vest. So you got this crazy old man prancing around the stage whacking himself in the belly.
Another enjoyable portion of the evening was the crowd itself. I was particularly amused by audience members who would gasp with delight and surprise when "the Mac" would break into one of their big hits. "I can't believe their playing Landslide!" someone shouted excitedly. I half expected to hear someone say, "I can't believe the sky got darker at night!"
Being so far away it's hard to feel a real connection with the music. So I just assume sit back and watch what I can. There's always someone close by, who feels like they should be "rocking out", and insists on screaming and yelling.
Now don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good scream...A good piercing whistle at an event like this. But it's only really good when it's drowned out by the music, and the rest of the crowd around you. We were so far away that a lone "whoop!" from three rows back, would pretty much dominate whatever was coming from the main stage. It just made our seats seem that much worse.
Oh yeah...One more thing. Stevie Nicks (as I alluded to before) still wears all these long flowing dresses and loves to spin around in them (much to the delight of the crowd) and sort of stand with her limbs spread out so you can see the silhouette of her body through the loose fabric. The later move reminding me a lot of Manos the Hands of Fate.
Despite the poor seats it was a good show. Not the best show, but a good one, and everyone else I was with seemed to enjoy themselves so bonus for that.
Last week Pat Tillman was killed in action in Afghanistan. Before he was a special forces soldier he was a pro football player. He gave up a multi-million dollar contract and the opportunity to fulfill what was likely a life-long goal. While our country has lost hundreds of soldiers in conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Much has been said of this particular soldier, who seemed to have it all...and gave it all for something he believed in. You gotta respect someone who holds so strongly to his convictions. He also look like a friggen action hero. Check it out:
Contrast Tillman's story with that of San Diego's newest villain: Eli Manning. Eli Manning (or perhaps more accurately his puppet master father) believed in something too. He believed that he was better than the organization that is to support him for the rest of his life. A system that would no doubt bring him incredible wealth and renown. He believed that he was too good to play football in San Diego and get paid millions of dollars for it. He was also too good to play in whatever number the Giants would give to him. Eli demeaned that one of his new teammates abandon the number that Manning coveted.
So he and his father instead took an already struggling team and kicked them in the pants. As a Charger fan...I would like to say "Fuck you " to Eli Manning. And I present to you : My dream senario for the coming years.
We begin with New York and their training camp:
Giants running back Tiki Barber, shows up to find his uniform, and personal effects strewn all over the locker room floor. He looks over towards his locker to see Eli Manning sliding the "Tiki" name plate out of it's holder and replacing it with a shiny new "Eli" plaque.
"Hey Tiki, sorry about your stuff there...but I ALWAYS get the center locker...you understand right?" Manning smiles.
An enraged Barber leaps over the locker room benches and begins wrestling Eli to the floor. The fight is quickly broken up with Barber and Manning forced to run extra laps as a disciplinary measure. While running Eli trips and skins his elbow. He gets up slowly and claims to need the entire pre-season to heal "both physically and mentally". A frustrated Jeremy Shocky threatens to give Manning a real reason to heal.
Meanwhile back in Charger town everyone is getting along perfectly. San Diego's no-name receivers respond well to their new quaterback (Phillip Rivers), and suddenly they seem to move faster, catch better and run crisper routes. River's meanwhile has somehow managed to work through all the problems with his fundamentals and throwing mechanics in just a couple short weeks. Coaches also marvel at how easily he seems to adapt to more complicated NFL offensive schemes.
Back in New York the Giant's offensive line decides to take their new QB out to Peter Luger's in an effort to build a strong relationship with the rookie. Manning - unhappy with the limo service, the choice of restaurant, and the manner in which his linemen choose to dress themselves is bitter and argumentative for the entire meal. As a result of this meal Eli Manning will become the most sacked quarterback in history in his first season.
Phillip Rivers and LaDanian Tomlinson lead the chargers to 3 consecutive superbowl victories while Eli Manning is unable to to complete a touchdown pass. His Giants finish in last place (giving the Chargers a sweet first round draft pick next year). Manning eventually gets traded, then let go. He' is last seen wandering the streets in a crack-induced stupor offering to do anything or suck anyone for just one more hit.
