AmericanAngst.com

Dreamed last night that George proposed to me…again. Except this time it was in a pool, he was Andrew McCarthy (but still, y’know…GEORGE), & the diamond? Was WAY smaller.

Also my mom was very upset that I hadn’t yet told George that I accepted Andrew-George’s re-proposal. I mean, couldn’t she see that I had awesome new high-heeled, made-totally-of-lace boots & a wicked-awesome wedding dress & badly needed an occasion to wear them??

Shaw.

(Hey, don’t give me grief…I totally left out the "Having to Pee in Said Wedding Dress" part. You’re welcome. It’s cuz I love y’all.)

~G.

An email conversation between me and my mother this morning. Note that I felt the need to copy pretty much everyone in our family on this,  because…well…not only do I find the dream funny, but I felt they would too and, since we have some pretty funny peeps in my family, the comments would likely be pretty funny, as well. Little did I know. Mom responded first and cracked me up with her reply. Go mom! (I’ll post other replies later, as I get them.)

From: Gracie
Date: Mon, Apr 19, 2010 at 11:22 AM
To: Gracie’s Mom

Hi mom! Hope you’re doing well and that you had a good weekend. Hope also that dad gave you your pants back. I gave them to him on Friday at lunch. Also, I meant to call and tell you: I had a dream about you over the weekend. I dreamt that we were both pregnant (yes, me AND you) and your baby was delivered first (in the restaurant of a casino that they built on [local road that SOOO wouldn’t have a casino], naturally) and? It was a black baby. But wait, there’s more. And it had a full-on afro. Also a deformed head (it was ginormous…as in twice the size of a little person’s head / roughly the size of a REEEEALLY smart alien’s head). And I was trying to hold it and be gentle, but its head was sooo heavy and wobbly that I was worried it would topple over onto the restaurant floor and I’d break your black baby.

Nope, no drugs. That’s aaaalll meeeee!

Luhjoo!

Signed,

Does This Make Me A Racist?

———-

From: Gracie’s Mom
Date: Mon, Apr 19, 2010 at 11:35 AM
To: Gracie

I guess it’s time to tell you all……. It wasn’t a dream, honey, it was a memory. Yes, I had an affair with a black alien and got knocked up higher than a kite. He took the little big headed “baby” back home with him and I felt good that I had contributed to the saving of their humanity (all their women defected to another planet). He had the power to erase your memory, or so he told me. I thought my secret was safe. I suppose some of the rest of you will start remembering soon, too. Please don’t judge me harshly, I felt at the time it was the honorable thing to do. (And he did have some very attractive attributes).

I hope you can forgive me.

Mom

Hee. She = funny (fast, too! I got this less than 15 minutes after sending it out).

~G.

Ahhh, pregnancy dreams. They’re just the best, aren’t they? The exchange below is in reference to a particularly…well…noteworthy one.

[13:44] Gracie: remind me tonight to tell you bout the crazy dream i had last night. ’bout you. and…about a mutant-plantain-sized-and-sorta-shaped…um…body part.

[13:44] George: um…. wow

[13:54] Gracie: don’t worry. you come out lookin GREAT

[13:54] Gracie: if…y’know…a wee bit deformed and…fruit-like

[13:54] Gracie: but…in a GOOD way

[13:55] George: yeah huh, sure

[13:55] Gracie: no really.

[13:55] Gracie: it was just a bit weird.

[13:55] Gracie: also …the dogs were there.

[13:55] Gracie: but not, y’know…THERE there

Note: at this point he stopped talking to me. For…the rest of the day. The good news = we’re back to talking again AND we have had many joyful discussions since (many of which were sprinkled with mentions of plantains. In fact, I often refer to it as MY plantain and offer a plethora of suggestions for its use).

Sorry - TMI is my specialty. It’s a curse, really.

~Gracie

I was *going* to just send this to George as an email, but thought…why limit myself? Why contain my humiliation to Just One Man? Why not spread my inner agony far and wide by posting the following to the Whole Damned World? So that’s what I’m doing. For YOU…

SO.

Dreamt last night that Artie (oh yes, that’s right right, Artie LANGE) praised me and my site on the radio, crediting me with getting him through some of the toughest times of his life, and dubbing me one of THE funniest “broads” he’s ever known. And people (as in listeners and my friends–who I’d never met, but was hanging out with in a large parking lot) thought it was the greatest, sweetest thing *ever* and I was somewhat upset because I didn’t know he was going to do that and rushed to an open-doored car and tuned to the station to hear it myself, but only heard the tail end of the show, and I kept asking everyone what he’d else he had said, but there wasn’t time because just then….

Howard (um, yeah…Howard STERN) appeared and took me for a ride in his trans am (white, natch) around a parking lot to show me off (don’t worry, I’m cringing as I type this) and instructed me to hang out the window and whip my head to and fro so my long hair could flip around in the wind (and ’cause…duh…blonde hair looks simply awesome in the setting sunlight and esPECIALLY from a trans am; EVERYONE knows THAT!) and Howard Stern = master of ALL, so of COURSE I complied. (I imagine I looked fanTABULOUS n’ holy GOD sexy.)

We then pulled up to an open event tent set up at the other end of the parking lot, and that is where I met up with Howard’s son (who was 8 feet tall and …Gene Simmons’ kid) who hugged me and said they’d all missed me SO much.

The press was very impressed with it all, I assure you.

Then Jennifer Aniston stormed off to her trailer, and we wondered if she was jealous of all the Howard n’ Team love I was getting, but then we saw her Korean girlfriend (who was wearing a Hawaiian wrap skirt) *begging* her not to leave…not to be mad! That she’d break it off with that other girl, she would! But Jen just ignored her and kept on walking. And her (now-ex) GF didn’t want to lose her place in line (the one that led to me and Howard and Artie) so…she let her go.

Waking up sucks