I can only blame this craziness on the Benadryl I took to combat the impending itch from sunburn. I mean, what is going on in my brain? As happens many times when I dream there are multiple snippets that flow together but make absolutely no sense on the waking side of it. Here we go...
In the first part of my dream I was friends with numerous San Jose Sharks hockey players and their wives; in fact, I think I was babysitting some of their babies. Trust me...even if I knew these people the likelihood of me taking care of their children is almost nil. Anyway...I was definitely in good with Joe Thornton and his wife and their baby, even holding the baby when Joe was passing out bouquets of roses to his wife and other Sharks wives. That's right. Roses. Sure. Why not?
At some point in this dream the scene shifted to a large bathroom where George Costanza was headed to take a shower, but the shower was really dirty; like someone had taken a mud bath in it. And he was all embarrassed standing in the bathroom in shorts and a creepy white tank top. Thankfully, that part of the dream ended quickly. He was my least favorite part of Seinfeld.
Next I encountered Richard Castle (hello Nathan Fillion) and Becket (from the show Castle, in case you were confused). Yes, they were in character as were the other Castle actors and I was involved in whatever case they were investigating, but somewhere in the middle of the scene Becket told Castle she was pregnant, and it wasn't clear if it was his baby or someone else's, and I never got my answer because I woke up. Really? What am I supposed to do with that information now?
I fell back asleep and my dreams shifted from hockey players and actors to musicians. I remember talking to someone about a Green Day concert at Shoreline (a show I actually did see in real life last year) but it seemed that in the dream I had tickets but didn't actually go, and it was like I forgot to go. Yeah. Like THAT would ever happen in real life!
From there I was transported to a Hootie & The Blowfish concert and my sole mission in seeing them was to get a picture with Mark Bryan who I actually have met in real life. I had this big plan to walk up to him and say, "Hey, remember me? We met at Robert Hicks' guitar pull outside of Franklin a few years ago." And then of course he would be like, "Of course!", because why wouldn't he remember me? (that's him on the right in the photo below)
But I never got to see him and then the band shifted to Third Day and I was talking to Mark Lee who plays guitar for them. What's with these guys named Mark who have last names that could easily be first names? Interesting. I wandered away while they were playing then came back and leaned back in a chair and closed my eyes and harmonized with the awesomeness of Mac Powell's voice.
And then I woke up for good. Yep. That's it. My own personal crazy dreams strike again.
Until I dream again...
