When Blogland Enters Dreamland

I don't often remember my dreams...and when I do remember them, I don't usually remember details. So imagine my surprise when I wake up from my afternoon nap yesterday and remember that I had a dream about Charles Jensen.

Here's the scenario. Charlie (I hope I can call you Charlie, that's what I was calling you in the dream) is having a dinner party in some gigantic, Titanic-esq hotel and someone I want to impress is going to be at this party (don't remember that part, nooo). So, I'm in a bit of a hurry because I don't want to miss my opportunity to impress this person or to upset Mr. Jensen, who so graciously invited me to his party. I'm running through this enormous hotel and I can't find the elevators and I can't find the suite where the party is, except, when I do, it looks more like the facade part of a ride at Cedar Point or Disney Land than a fancy hotel. It's all log cabiny with ramps going back and forth along the front (and I'm thinking "this doesn't seem classy enough for Charles Jensen" the whole time I'm walking up and down these ramps).

Finally, I get inside and I'm sweaty from the sprint through the ginormous hotel, so I ask if I can go clean up before dinner. When I go into the bathroom and flick the switch, the water comes on with the lights. And I'm not in a normal bathroom--I'm in one of those fancy showers with 18 faucets--and I keep flipping switches and pressing buttons but they all just turn on another faucet, they don't turn anything off. Before I figure out what the eff is going on, I'm soaked and the bathroom is flooded, and everyone at this party (which is now AWP, by the way) is pissed at me.

On my way out of the flooded bathroom, I run into the Important Person, who very nicely tells me that I'm all wet and maybe I should change. So I start running through Hotel Gigantor again and again, I can't find the elevators or my room. I just keep running. And I miss Charlie's dinner party.

I bet it was a good party.