Dream a little dream...

(Note to the people who know my team allegiances very well: I’m not going to talk about it. No, seriously, I’m not going to dwell on this. Besides, I’m in enough pain from punching the wall as it is, no need to make things worse. I mean, on the bright side a) at least we didn’t lose in the first round and b) I just picked up an awful lot of free time this weekend.)

What follows is one hundred percent true. I had two dreams last night. In one, I found out that I had a comment written on my blog at 11:30 at night. In the other, I was dating Neko Case. Incredibly, I woke up this morning to find that one of them had come true. Sadly, as much as I like getting a post from my brother-in-law, that really wasn’t the dream that I wanted to come true. Sigh.

I’m telling you, that was one of the most disappointing moments of the year for me. Here I am in this wonderful dream and wake up going “This is awesome” and then looking around and going “Wait, that was just a dream? Son of a…” It is really painful to realize that you are stuck in your own boring existence after a moment like that. It just seems completely unfair to have to go from having your life being perfect to recognizing that you are living above a bowling alley and below another bowling alley in about ten seconds. At times like that I get whiplash from my own thought process.

On the other hand, it is always great to get Kelly Willis news. I haven’t caught the Claritin commercial (is it possible to set Tivo for commercials? Am I insane for even thinking this?) but given that she and Bruce just had their fourth child, it probably helps to pay the bills. And thanks to this comment, I just remembered that I had something I wanted to write about Bruce and Kelly for the past month.

Backstory: Every two months I pick up this magazine called No Depression (and no, it does not refer to any psychological issues that I may or may not have). It’s a music magazine that focuses on Americana, alternative country and all of those other genres of music that I listen to and no one else does. They had an article this month on Bruce Robison, this great songwriter and extremely nice guy who is married to Kelly (who still ranks as the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever had a conversation with). In it, Kelly talks about how Bruce courted her. I’ll quote directly here.

“We were friends with the same people,” she recalls. “But he acted like he hated me. He was rude to me all the time, and…” she had to admit, “…it piqued my curiosity. Then one night we were all hanging out together and we all wound up getting drunk, of course, and he grabbed me and kissed me. He said he thought that everybody around me was kissing my butt and he didn’t want to come across as one of those guys. It’s been true love ever since.”

You know, I have spent much of the past several years pondering the concept of relationships and how do you bridge that divide that always seems to arise. It always centered around the question of “Why doesn’t being the nice guy work?” I’ve thought about it, I’ve talked it out with friends, I’ve hired external consultants (don’t ask) and I’ve even run statistical models (really, really don’t ask) and I could never figure out the answer. And here one day I’m reading an article and the answer is just sitting there. Nice guys just aren’t that bloody interesting. Is it that simple? Or am I just a really slow learner?

Surprise bonus: Due to the fact that on Saturday night that they are going to have a special hour long block of How I Met Your Mother, including the episode where Ted downs five Red Dragon shots and trust me, if you want to get an idea of what my life is really like watch that episode, I am going to do a special, one-time only, weekend edition of the blog. I know what it’s going to be about and well, you’ll just have to check this space to find out. There has to be some suspense to it, after all.