Hopefully dreams say nothing about you...

OK saratogajean mentioned dreams and it got me thinking about a couple of mine.

Lately I’ve been having the weirdest dreams. I mean I always have some strange ones but lately they’ve been off the scale weird, and there is even a theme.

The first one was about a week ago. I was on stage in a really pretty (but kind of tacky) ball gown with about fifty other girls on a show like Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire. This was obviously the beginning and everyone was saying why she was there and why she wanted to marry … my ex-boyfriend.

Now he is a wonderful guy but when I realized whom it was I kind of started to freak out. But I couldn’t get off the stage. It was getting closer and closer to my turn and I was starting to panic. Suddenly I was off the stage and running down this never ending red velvet staircase that was strewn with rose petals and pearls. So while I’m running full bent down this staircase I’m trying not to break my neck by slipping on the loose pearls (I’m also in four inch heals). I woke up in a cold sweat, but had no clue as to what this could mean, if anything.

The next one was last night. Apparently I was a contestant on Rock of Love. I had bleached blond hair and a skanky outfit to boot. It was my all-consuming quest to find out if Brett Michaels’ hair was real or not. I think I might have even got into a screaming match with another girl whose boobs were at least triple mine in mass. Brett and I had a date and I was so creeped out by him that thankfully, I woke up.

I have to admit I do watch Rock of Love. No matter how stupid I feel I always feel better watching these people, because I will hopefully never slip so low. But now I have to wonder what my subconscious is trying to say putting me in these situations?