Friday, October 14, 2011

It's not Tuesday, but it's a confession

As most of my old roommates know, I have a history of pretty scandalous dreams. In the past it has been mostly making out with people I know with an occasional celebrity thrown in. The last year or so has been pretty quiet on that homefront so imagine my surprise when James Roday showed up in my dream last night.

It all started (the dream) when an old student of mine from BYU-I came into my class at BYU to surprise me. I was probably way more excited to see him in my dream than I should have been, but it's my dream right? My rules, too, apparently. The awkward thing was that the entire class was rivited by this somewhat awkwardly happy reunion of kindred spirits. We took our reunion to the hallway, but when I walked out, it was right onto the set of Psych. I was, of course, now Maggie Lawson--you might know her as Juliet O'Hara. I was supposed to do her scene...only problem is, I'm a terrible actress. So when the director told me to say my line, it was sort of awful.

So, the director told me to take a seat on the couch and make some popcorn while he let Dule Hill do his scene. It was a very long and involved scene wherein he gets to steal Shawn's thunder for once as he draws a poster of the scene of the crime (this made a lot more sense in my dream). So there I am, sitting on the couch, waiting for my stupid popcorn, when James Roday (not Shawn Spencer, and while I wish it was James from Season 1 it was more like James from Season 5) comes and sits down next to me.

He starts chatting me up, asking me how things are going, and I realize that since I'm Maggie Lawson, I'm also his girlfriend in real life. So he starts saying sweet nothings (see, not very Shawn Spencer-ish) and starts kissing me. On the couch. While Dule is monologing. Of course, no one else is paying attention to this little indiscretion. Meanwhile I'm asking myself why I am letting him kiss me since I am not REALLY Maggie Lawson and am still not sure why everyone thinks I am.

Dule's scene ends, the director calls it the best work he's ever done, and the poster is a masterpiece. But when they review the footage, turns out there was an errant elbow or two of mine or James' that made it into the frame, ruining the entire thing. A very typical Psych broo-ha-ha breaks out and I exit stage right.

Needless to say, I woke myself up right about then.

It's nice to know my brain is finally back to its normal functions.