Dream on, Dreamer.

What? Three posts in one week??? This is CRAZY! Yes, a wild and crazy life I lead... or perhaps I am not so particularly social this week. Nor am I particularly working. What I should be particularly doing is unpacking my new apartment. But why not share a dream instead? That sounds like a good use of our time, right?

My friend Dena emailed me this dream today, and I admit, I kind of enjoyed it. (I kind of enjoy any email I get these days, since I haven't been able to write them from work anymore, the entertainment I receive has dropped off dramatically.) Dena and I used to see each other once a week, but haven't been for a while, and yet this is the second dream she's had about me. (At least that I know of. Maybe she has a crush on me and dreams about me every night. Could we blame her?) I can't find her account of the first dream (although it wasn't for lack of looking - now I want to read it again), but it was something about some star in another country who escaped to America to get away from her fame and adoring fans and pretend to be a normal American girl - and it turned out to be me.

Here's the dream from today:

I have to tell you about the dream I had last night. It was all about you. You were getting married- suddenly and elaborately. I was a bridesmaid along with a huge group of others. We were standing at the front of a cathedral on stairs and the wedding planner was organizing the rows of attendants. Our dresses were different according to our "rank" as friends. The b-lister bridesmaids (the ones that barely made it) had on frumpy, poufy dresses with big sleeves. The closer the friend to Jennifer, the sexier the dress, so your "inner circle" were wearing these net, see-through numbers. Strange.

No one in the bridal party had ever met the groom, but he was apparently artsy and eccentric. While the bridesmaids were being sorted by friend hierarchy, several wedding coordinators were trying to gather up the dancers, acrobats and dressed-up animals that would be in the procession.

So, whatever your mystery fiance did, he did well. We toured your new, overly modern house (mansion) and got to see the special elevator you use to get to the top shelves in the closets. Some of the upstairs rooms had glass floors and you could see into the rooms above and below. (Not practical, Jennifer. People wear dresses and sometimes have boogers, so we don't need to see each other from directly underneath.) At some point in the dream, I realized I had used the bathroom with a clear ceiling. Great.

So, there was my dream. Hope you enjoyed it. Maybe it was prophetic. Be sure to let me know if you get engaged to a crazy bazillionaire. You don't have to make me a bridesmaid, but if you do, I want to be a middle-of-the-road friend, not poufy, not see-through.

Ironically, I have two good friends (we will call them Splann and Lob) who have concerns about their "bridesmaid ranking" in my hypothetical non-existent wedding. First of all people, I'm not getting married. (And how unlike Splann to get ahead of herself when it comes to talking about my life! ahem.) Secondly, where did you get this idea that there was some sort of ranking order to bridesmaids? And thirdly, at some point in your old age doesn't having a bunch of bridesmaids just seem ridiculous? Now a bathroom with a glass floor/ceiling on the other hand... that's just brilliant. Invite guests over and watch them try to figure that one out.
Actually... come to think of it... making some people I know wear horrible dresses doesn't sound like such a bad idea either...