Anyway, it really got me to start thinking once again about my own blog, and whether or not I really feel comfortable sharing my thoughts with everyone that I know in “real life.”

Although there are some days that I really wish I had a private blog that I could spill all of my secrets to, I think that I am pretty happy being able to share my most of my secrets to anyone who cares to read.  In fact, it does feel pretty damn good to just put most of that shit out there. I’ve said it before, but sometimes it sucks that I have no idea who knows what about me, but for the most part… you’re eventually gonna find these things out, so I might as well tell you off the bat, right? I have a constant case of word-vom anyway, and within five minutes of being in my company I’m likely to share everything I write here anyways. I can sometimes be a freak, and if you’re gonna judge me- you might as well do it soon.

In fact, sometimes I wish that everyone I knew kept a blog.

It got me thinking about all the people that I have met, that I wished that I could have instantly known everything about them…

For example.

Nearly a year ago,  a friend and I were out for a night of karaoke when I spotted an attractive gentlemen at a booth across the way.

I sat talking to my friend about nonsense, all the while, making crazy eye contact and “bedroom eyes” with said gentleman as he held his own conversation with his own friends (a boy and a girl) at his own booth, that just happened to be in perfect view from my own.

After a while, the “gentleman” (lets call him Corey, because that was his name) came over to my booth and asked if he could sit down.

“Of course,” I said.

We got to talking, and I immediately started really liking this fellow. He was extremely personable and we had a lot in common. (meaning that he too, knew all the words to Meatloaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light.)

Eventually, the girl from his booth came over and introduced herself as Jenny. Corey explained that they had been best friends since high school. She seemed nice enough, though a little on the edge- and said that they were about to leave but that my friend and I should accompany them to another karaoke bar nearby. My friend and I didn’t really have anything better to do, (and I practically got on my knees and begged her) so we agreed to go.

We do, and the night starts to turn into a damn romantic comedy. Corey and I sing several songs together, and share  a few kisses at our table not caring that his friends are watching. Eventually, the bar is closing and we reluctantly said our goodbyes.

After we left, Corey and I continue a heated text conversation, and I was down right smitten.

The next morning I woke my friend up and made her listen to all of the details of my late night conversation with Corey, prompting my questions…

“Do you think he’ll call??” “What do you think he meant when he said he doesn’t always know when his free time will come about.” “Did you think that girl was a bit creepy?”

I swear, if I had known his last name, I would have googled that shit.

Corey did call. We talked for a few days, and I thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

Eventually, the conversation came around to my living situation…

Me: “Yeah, I basically live with a bunch of people. Some of them are gay… It’s like a constant party…”

Corey: “Well… my living situation is way more unique than yours…”

Really? Ohholyshitthisisfuckingsarcasticallyawesome.

I prepared myself for him to tell me that he lived with his parents, both sets of grandparents and his 12 cats.

Nope.

Corey: “Yeah… I live with my wife and our child…”

OPEN MOUTH GUFFAW

Corey: “Soooo… I probably should have told you earlier… you actually met my wife. She was the girl…. at the bar with me… I guess we’re in what you would call…  an open relationship .. BUT I reallllly like you. And she did to… and I wanna hang out!!!”

Me:  “You’re wife… being the girl who pulled you away from me as we were leaving the bar???”

Fucking swingers.

If that’s you’re style, more power to you…  I’m not one to judge. But I quickly came to the conclusion that I don’t want to date a guy whose wife witnessed our first kiss.

I never saw him again, but I totally talked to the dude a few more times. Not because I still wanted something to happen, but because I had a million questions about their life style and how it worked. I’m curious! What can I say? (I eventually told this story on the radio while he was listening which swiftly ended our interview-like relationship.)

If he would have had an open blog, I’m sure I could have found out all the answers by myself without wasting several weeks of his (and my own) time, and could have simply read about all the details on my own.

And this is why I have come to the conclusion that keeping an open blog is a good thing, and everyone else should too.

So if you have a freak-flag, wear it proudly… some people may be into that shiz.

And also, if you are a swinger/have more than 1 spouse/have 18 children/are a midget/have decided to change you skin color (I’m talking to you Sammy Sosa)/have appeared on the reality show “Obsessed” or in one of the more interesting episodes of “Intervention”/are in a cult/ have 2 sets of genitals/have an addiction to something outlandish… you should definitely start a blog and send me the link, pronto. I want to read all about your sordid lives.

I picture myself giving my Academy Award acceptance speech, and  receiving kisses of congratulations from John Cusack and James Franco. I see myself as a guest on This American life, and afterward Ira Glass takes me out for a picnic dinner where his melodic voice puts me in a trance by telling me his own life story.  Whenever I drive, I imagine that my life is a movie- and whatever song is on in the background determines the reason that I am driving, in this particular scene of the movie. In fact, right now I’m imagining  myself eating a big bowl of pasta instead of this freezer-burned lean pocket that I have doused with Tabasco sauce in order to make it semi-edible. I basically pride myself on being able to daydream myself out of any situation.

At night, it is a whole other story.

I rarely “night dream,” probably because when I go to sleep- I have usually passed out from ambien, benadryl or wine…

But when I do dream at night, my brain seems to lose all sense of humor, creativity, and variety. It probably means something ominous, but I never have happy dreams. I have never dreamt that I was flying, or that I’ve won the lottery. Nope. My brain seems to only have 4 dreams on the dreamreel that it enjoys torturing me with- time and time again.

The first and least scary, is the very common “teeth falling out” scenario. Sometimes this dream plays out like that episode of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” where Charlie loses one tooth, then  keeps pulling them out just to see if he can. Other times I will be eating something in the dream, and I notice a gritty feeling in my mouth. I spit and realize that my teeth are slowly crumbling into bits that feel like sand. I’ve heard that these dreams can mean that I’m feeling guilty about something or that I am not in control of a situation in my life… and suppose either of these interpretations could ring true.

I also tend to dream about life in a  post-apocalyptic world. I used to have tornado dreams all the time, where the wind would lift my body as my fingernails dug into the earth in an attempt not to end up in Munchkin land. In more recent years, the disaster has progressed from mere windstorm- to total destruction of the entire earth. Usually in this dream I find myself in a building with a few random people that I have known in my life. We are drifters and are the only people left on  earth. Sometimes we venture out in groups through the fire and smoke filled streets to try to find a rat to munch on. Buildings are falling everywhere and sometimes I think I see a glimpse of one of my parents or a friend. I usually wake up around this point in a panic…

Another dream I have more and more often lately- is the one where I am back in high school or college, and I have no idea when the last time I went to class was, or where any of my classes are. I have been out of school for five years and I still convince myself in my sleep that I have missed 3 exams and there is no possibility of my getting to graduate. I also wake up from these dreams in a panic; but it is the best feeling in the world to realize that instead of missing a semester of school and not knowing where I’m going- I have to go to work, and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life.

The fourth recurring dream is by far the worst. I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you about it, even though it has never really happened in real life. Here goes. I have these awful nightmares where I am at work or some other public place and I have to go to the bathroom really really bad. To be clear- when I say “go” to the bathroom, I do mean go go to the bathroom. In these dreams, the urgent feeling suddenly comes to me and I am filled with great fear.  I can hear my co-workers calling my name as I rush by, knowing that something is terribly wrong. Just as I open the bathroom door, I know it is too late. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination, but the scenario always ends the same. Someone comes to check on me, and I have to tell them the truth. Even in my dreams I know that there is no escaping walking into an office smelling and looking as if I just took a swim in a sewer without anyone noticing. I always wake up from these dreams  amazed that I don’t  have to go go in real life.

I’ve tried looking up what the significance of this dream in numerous online dream dictionaries to no avail. I suppose it could just be a warning to me about whatever shitstorm is coming my way. Let me know if you are a dream intrepeter and can solve this little mystery.