Okay, I had the weirdest dream this morning. It involved Brandi and the boys playing a show in my basement and all kinds of other bananas. First, my basement was apparently connected to this night club that my dad owned (what? I haven't lived with my dad for ten years), and that's where the show was taking place, and I seemed to know in the dream that they were opening for the Indigo Girls, but there was practically no one in the audience, and I just busted in, late, from the house side of the basement and stood right in front. Then Brandi's dog was following me around, and I guess the show was over, because Brandi started following both of us, and she was wearing this Red Sox t-shirt and a backwards Red Sox hat (which was just adorable), and I was like, "Nice shirt, Brandi," and in reply she said something about getting those two modes of transportation started, which made perfect sense to me in the dream, but now I have no idea what the hell that could have meant. Then she and her dog disappeared, and I was like, "Hey, wait, what the hell?" And then I found her working at some kind of Home Depot-ish place, wearing an apron and a nametag that bore the name of the girl I have a stupid crush on at Bath & Body Works, and I was like, "You are not her. You don't even work here. What're you doin', Carlile?" (I apparently felt like I knew her well enough to call her by her last name.) She just smiled at me, all flirty, and went to help customers, and I was all dressed in my BBW garb for some reason, despite being at Home Depot, and then I must have woken up, because there was no resolution to this at all.
The weirdest part was having Brandi and the boys in the basement. And the club part basically looked like an unfinished basement, and at one point, I was just hanging from a pole that was supporting the ceiling (we had those in the basement of our first house in Nashua), and it was just bizarre. I retold all that really crappily, but dreams are impossible to retell because they have no narrative structure whatsoever. That drives me crazy.
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2 comments:
Ha you had a weird-ass dream about Brandi! Thus I pass on the crazy torch to you. I have been thining to myself since I had that bizarre dream about her, about how psychotic that probably makes me seem. But, now we are on an equal playing field. At least both of the dreams had her playing music. That shaves a little bit off of the insaneness of it all. But, then again... she was working at Home Depot in yours... so... ya, that one I can't explain.
Anyways. I guess there are worse things to dream about. I just want to know why we must wake up before the dream concludes.
I got a kick out of reading this entry. It just solidifies the fact that dreams are wacky. It really doesn't make any sense. At least your dream Brandi was kind of cool. Mine was like a fucking spaz who quit playing like half way through the song and walked away from her Cover Girl contract. C'mon Brandi! Be cooler than that. And she certainly wasn't wearing any Houston Astros getup. Damn my dreams and their crappiness.
Something I learned from your dream is that if I were friends with Brandi, I would always call her Carlile. That's a pretty good last name. No one could call me Smith, because it's not a good two-syllable name. But, I could totally work with Carlile...and it's a cooler name than Brandi too. ..which I still have trouble saying out loud. I have a lot of weird quirks like that.
Ok, well I'm going hiking! So I leave you to your dreams.
Now I wish I had a friend whose last name was Carli(s)le, because I would totally call her (or him) that all the time. Really annoyingly, too. Carliiiiiiile. It's fun to say. I think I got the whole last name thing from My So-Called Life, where all the main characters were frequently referred to by last name only. Except Rickie. I don't think anyone ever called him Vasquez.
Brandi is too girly of a name for her. I would call her Carlile, too, for sure.
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