Planet Dingbat

Last night’s dreams are very blurred.  Not much is in the old memory bank, except who was in my dream, and the fact that I was talking in my sleep.

The following is something I’m likely to do if I ever meet this person again.  I’m not name dropping here, because I really like him, and I have yet to attend one of his solo performances, since he only performs in Los Angeles or Europe.

Anyways, I vaguely remember sitting down with this person at a party, and tried to strike up a conversation to get his attention.  I don’t know why I do this.  My social skills are crap, and this is why I don’t leave the house, because I’m an idiot, and when things come out of my mouth, people look at me like what planet did you come from?.

And that’s what happened in my dream, until I mentioned my old blog, and how I met him once before.  Then he remembered me, and still looked at me like I had two heads, while everyone else sat and snickered over the fact that I was being a stupid 48 year old fangirl.

For the past week, I’ve caught myself talking in my sleep.  This was one of those times.  I’m praying Kevin didn’t hear me.  I was pretty loud in my dream, which could explain why everyone was laughing at me.  Maybe it’s time to break out the duct tape.

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