Friday, January 27, 2006

"The good times are killing me."

For those who want to play armchair psychoanalyst:

Tuesday night I dreamt that I was getting married. At first I was wearing a paper gown like you do, but then opted for a real dress -- some late Victorian number with poofy sleeves and a high collar that I would not have chosen in real life. And when it was almost time for the ceremony, I went to the church ladies room to touch up. The bathroom was filled with women, some of which I knew. Holly was there in a wedding gown and telling me something that I can't remember, but it kind of annoyed me. Beth was also there wearing a tux suit jacket and bow tie with jeans and it suddenly dawned on me that I was supposed to marry Beth . . . which is odd because she's straight and a friend of mine. I remembered thinking that there had been a terrible mixup and Beth didn't have to take one for the team just because I've been single forever.

And then I woke up about the time that I realized that the stick of concealer was in fact "mood changing" lipstick and to my horror I had streaks of black on my face.

(Note to Beth: Don't freak out that I was going to marry you.)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Last night I dreamt that today was National Argyle Day. Beat that.

Red said...

Hee hee hee. I had a "i'm getting married" nightmare recently, that involved me getting married, without anyone telling me in advance, and my hair was a DISASTER! --Red