Celebrities are overrated

I have had many dreams with celebrities.

I'm a recovering Pop culture junkie.

He was telling me how much he wanted to be with me as he braced his arms around me and professed his love to me. I felt awkward.


"Our age difference doesn't matter," Donnie assured me.
...

There was a celebration going on in Boston. As my friend, "Lacey" and I walked along the sidewalk among the shops, a reflection of a double-decker bus drove past us. I looked towards the street. On top of the bus was Donnie and his brothers.


One of his brothers had past away. They were celebrating his life by having a parade in his honor.

• This is embarrassing, but I had a dream about Donnie Walhberg and Mark Walhberg. Why? I was no fucking clue! This past week I did read an article from Yahoo about them opening up a restaurant together. I also watched about ten minutes of "Blue Bloods" which features Donnie Walberg. 
• I'm not a New Kids on the Block fan, but I do love me some "Good Vibrations."
• Bahahahahaha! What a dorky dream.

"It's Rob Birthday. We're throwing him a surprise party," Kourtney looked at me with her huge bug-like sunglasses. "You need to come with me to the store."


"I still need to buy him a present." I had no idea what to get him.


(I can't remember if we went to the store or not, but we did do a lot of wandering around town.)


Time is running out and I still haven't gotten him a present. "I need to go the store," I looked at him urgently.


"For what?"


"I need something." 


We walked through aisles and aisles. (I don't know what store it was, but there was a lot of school supplies. I want to say it was the 99 Cent store!) Rob looked bored and I was worried that I wouldn't find him a gift in time for the party.

• Okay, I confess I watch "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." [Don't judge me. Well, you can a little.] I've always been very against watching this show, until last year, last fall. I had seen snippets of the show before with roommates, but didn't care. 
• My sole reason to watch is Rob Kardasian. Damn, I sound like a groupie. 

I Drove All Morning and Afternoon

I felt this nervousness rush over me. I hoped that I wouldn't get caught. My carry-ons ran through the conveyor belt. He was rumbling through my stuff. I imagined the others whispering, pointing it out on the screen. I walked though, red lights began to flash and the alarm began to ring.


BUSTED.


The TSA (Transportation Security Administration) man, took me outside of the airport. "I don't know why it rang," he said as we walked out.


He and I were in my car. He drove. (I'm not fond of driving, especially with people.) He drove around in circles throughout the airport. (I don't know why we were all of sudden in my car.) There was a third person in the car too. (Her voice sounded like my mom's.) She asked about the ringing alarm.

"I have a knife in my luggage that's why the alarm went off. I was hoping it wouldn't be noticed," I confessed to the TSA man and the third person. "It's a knife my brother gave me," I said sticking my hand behind my car seat.


The knife was hidden in the pouch of the car seat. "Well, I thought it was in my luggage."


"Where are we going?," I asked looking at the gas indicator. Oh no, I thought, it's empty! "We should exit out of here I need gas now."


The TSA man was talkative. (I can't remember any of our conversation.) He drove us out of the parking lot.


We drove on the freeway on a bridge, I looked out the windowshield and saw the city lights. It was a panned image of glowing, red and white city lights reflecting off of tall buildings and a charcoal sky.


My flight doesn't take off until 2 p.m. and I arrived at the airport at 9 .a.m.! I was going to Japan. I looked at the clock it was 10:30 a.m. I have plenty of time, I thought. "I'm really early I said," as I got out of the car.


... I'm somewhere else now. The TSA man is gone. I ran into my old friend, "Frank". (I only knew him for less than a year, but he felt like those people that I've known for years. He fit perfectly into my dull life.)

"Frankie!" I gave him a huge hug. We caught each other up on our lives. He seems to be happier, still lost in this world, but happy.


I told him I was going to Japan, then we got into a conversation about my brother's hospitalization from a few years back. (A true story. I don't remember what triggered that conversation.) That story about my brother's brush with death was a way for me to lecture him -to take care of himself. (We somewhat had an older sister, younger brother relationship.)

"Watch what you eat..." I urged Frank. He listened carefully as I told him the details.


... I was home now. I explained to my mom what happened at the airport. I looked at the time on the computer screen and it was now 2:19 p.m. I missed my flight. I didn't say anything to her about just missing my flight by 19 minutes, I let her kept talking in the background.


I felt nonchalant about the time. Oh well, I thought to myself, I'll find a later flight. I began to think of a story to tell customer service, so that I won't have to pay for another ticket. I kept thinking that I will find another flight to Japan that was delayed.

• My greatest dream is to travel the world. I'd love to have Adam Richman ("Man vs. Food/Food Nation") and Guy Fieri's ("Diners, Drive-Inn, and Dives") jobs. Get paid to eat and travel the country?Yes, please! I would just love to be a travel writer or even tour with a band for a summer as their roadie.
• My biggest dilemma is that I'm in debt. That could be why I never got on that plane. I can't afford to travel right now.
• I miss "Frank." I wonder if he's thought about me.
• I seem to give good advise to others, but I never seem to listen to my own.
• Sometimes I feel like I'm running out of time... to follow my dreams.
• Oh, and I've been meaning to put that knife back into my car.

It's 6 a.m. and I still can't sleep...

I walked into the garage and my brother was showing "Tito" and "Randy's" mother my old hand-me-down car; a black, 2002 (or 2001) Kia Spectra. (I hate that car. It was a year or two after high school, the car's battery had stopped on me in the middle of an intersection at  around 9 p.m. It was embarrassing!) He was trying to sell it to her.

I was feeling anxious that morning. I had gotten a new job at the local hospital. (I just applied there this week.) Already, I had confused my work schedule. I didn't show up the first day! (So, unlike me to miss work, let alone the first day!) It was the second day and I thought I had started at 11:00 a.m.

"Where's Tito?" I asked glancing over at Randy wandering on the other side of the garage.


"He's at home," she replied.


I went back inside the house to double check my schedule. 


"I took a sick day yesterday," I said to my brother who was now inside with me. I logged onto the work site.


"Oh my god! I was supposed to start at 6:45 a.m. and leave at 11:00 a.m.!" I was shocked and stared at the screen, thinking how could this be and how dare they schedule me that early. (I'm not a morning person, well at least not for work and I when I worked at "The Happiest Place on Earth" I would sometimes be scheduled 6:30 a.m. shifts. Ugh.)

"I'm just going to take another sick day again. It's late to come in now."


"You already called out two days. If you call out three times they're going to fire you," my brother warned.


It was already close to 11:00 a.m. and I hadn't contacted the hospital yet. "They probably think, I'm a 'no call, no show' and will fire me," I thought panicking. "I'll just submit the sick day now," as I hurried and clicked.

I worked early the next day for work. I subbed for another aide. My co-worker said, "Tito and Randy are absent again." She made a hand gesture over her stomached and whispered," Their mother is having the baby."

"Oh, really? I had a dream about their mom last night. We were trying to sell her our old used car." We laughed.

• I always get paranoid when I have to wake up early for work. I always think my alarm clock on my phone won't go off. Nights before an early shift, I sometimes dream about being late to work or often times I'm tossing and turning the whole night.
• We definitely need to sell that car. My brother and I have discussed that during one of our recent conversations.
• I really need a second job soon!

Directionally Dysfunctional

I have the most random dreams. Sometimes I can see why I dream about certain things (work, school, friends), but often times the dreams as a whole make no sense. They're more like movie scenes I guess. Although, I'm always trying to interpret them if possibly any of them can be connected to my real life.

[A dream this past weekend.]

"You're going the wrong way," I said. "You need to turn around."


My aunt and cousin were taking me home, but for some reason I needed to go somewhere else. We were in Las Vegas.


"What's the street?" My aunt asked.


"It's Fremont. It should be a few stoplights down. Just drop me off here."


All of a sudden it was nighttime. There were a lot of lights shining; hotel buildings and streetlights. I kept walking.

"Did I pass it?" I thought. I didn't see Fremont Street.


I walked into a hotel to their front desk. The male receptionist told me Fremont was just around the corner. He directed me around with arm motions and I followed.


I have no idea why I needed to go to Fremont Street, nor do I know my specific destination in this dream.


I walked out the hotel into the direction he explained, but I ended up walking to the pool area that led me to the end of a gate. I couldn't get out. I turned around to walk back into the hotel.


I was now at another part of the hotel. It felt like a completely different one. As I walked to the desk. Another male clerk helped me. His outfit was sparkly as was everything around him. (That's Vegas for you!)


"I know where Fremont is," a familiar voice interrupted. I turned around. "I can show you."


It was an old friend. (I haven't spoken to him in real life in over a year. He hates me, maybe not hate, but he doesn't like me anymore. At least that's how I feel. I miss him. I'll name him "Micheal.")

We walked out of the hotel together into the darker night. We kept walking and walking.


"Did we past it? I don't see it?"


"I'll ask for help," Michael said. He flagged down a car. I waited on top of a grassy hillside next to a building. He ran up and pointed that it was that way.


"Are you sure?" I was worried. The car's headlights blackened, then it was gone. The lights disappeared in the city too. We began to walk closer together. White cloudy air began to swirl around us and ancient, giant trees appeared in the foreground and as if we were walking into to a forest. Maybe a swamp, or a cemetery.


"HEY!" a man yelled. He began to chase after us. He was huge like a hunchback. His hair was long, brown and straggly to his shoulders. He wore a grayish shirt and jeans.


He scared the hell out of us. Michael grabbed my hand and we ran as fast as we could. Just like those dreams where you run and run and run. Well, we did just that. There was no ending. The man ran closer each time trying to grab one of us.


That same hotel where I asked for directions was our rescue. Behind the smokey air, scary trees and in black night, there it was. We ran inside. We breathed hard and looked behind us. The man was gone. The male clerk (I believe the same sparkly one) stared at us.


I woke up.

• Aw, I miss "Michael." 
• I need to make another trip to Vegas.
• I need to improve my sense of direction!

from One of the Boys

Dear Journal

Doug kept a diary journal. I admired him. I kept a one as a child until high school. During my middle school years, my brother and his friend made it a game to steal and read aloud my prepubescent poetry and dreams about crushes. I ripped out all those pages in later years. (I kind of regret that.)

I still don't know why I stopped writing journals in high school.

"The most depressing years of my life. Our high school yearbook." -Matty

Oh, yeah, that's why. While my journal entries post high school are quite depressing, most people wouldn't label me a depressed person. Then again they don't know me.

My thoughts are sometimes depressing, but my daydreams are almost always lovely. My dreams at night are nonsensical and my aspirations sometimes seem unbelievable.