Good Dreams

Last night I dreamt that a tall, buxom, kind, beautiful brunette visited me on my last day of college to say 'hello' and hang out. And no, it wasn't the buxom brunette you might be guessing...it was Jennifer.

If you don't know who Jennifer is, she's the first girl I ever liked when I was a 15 year-old in Atlanta and she an 18 year-old high school graduate. I met her in a photography class in which I was the only boy (and the only person under 30, save Jennifer). My stepmom was also in the class and mocked me endlessly. She was the most beautiful girl these ever have ever seen...and thus she was the founder of my inability to talk to girls I like....you know, the thing where I forget to speak English because I can't think straight in the face of feminine beauty. So, amazing looking in fact, that it sparked the phrase of evaluating girls physical appearance in which I'd say "She's no Jennifer" when my dad or someone else would point out a lady they thought was pretty. And trust me, some really pretty girls got "She's no Jennifer," that's how beautiful Jennifer was (on the outside. I didn't get to talk to her TOO much, but I can assure you, she was really nice). Anyway, I didn't ask her out because I was embarrassed because I couldn't drive, but she remains, in some ways, as the yardstick by which all other girls are measured.

I love dreams where you wake up happy. So often, I wake up upset...mostly because I have to go to class, which I detest or because I'm sort of lost in life. This morning, I woke up remembering that there was once a time in which I actually liked a girl not named Kate (not that I like her anymore, you know what I mean), which makes me feel good. One day, there'll be another Jennifer, and when she comes, I can bank on my driving abilities, so I'll have no reason not to ask her out this time.

Today, I'm thankful for good dreams. Obvi.