Ow and whatever

Tropical Storm Alberto has come and dumped loads of lovely rain on us here in North Carolina. That’s nice and all, except for my feet and shoes and pants and socks are still very wet and it’s really cold in my office and I think I might be dying of pneumonia. Or I might just have cold feet and a migraine. It’s hard to tell the difference.

This morning I had a dream about Anderson Cooper. I know, right? Don’t you wish your celebrity boyfriend was hot like mine? I kind of wish my celebrity boyfriend was straight so I’d have a chance with him. But alas. However, in my dream, he was straight as could be and totally in love with me. In love! With me! Can you believe it? But maybe even cooler than having AC in love with me was the fact that he loved me so much he married me! And then was elected president. President Anderson Cooper. It wasn’t exactly the United States. I mean, for one, I don’t remember there being an election. Just a general concensus that Anderson should be our next president. The entire country turned out for the swearing in, where AC wasn’t actually sworn in. He was given this really nice bomber jacket that enabled him to fly. Yes, that’s right. A perk of being president? You get the flying jacket! Before the jacket madness though, I was ushered from the room and sat outside in this lobby-type area. I needed to sit down because I was large with child. Sadly, I don’t remember getting knocked up. That would’ve made the dream a lot better. A few minutes later, President Cooper and these guys in suits sauntered from the room. Anderson looked omgsohott in an old white t-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts, and flip flops. He also hadn’t shaved in a few days, so he had delicious scruff. And his hair wasn’t so silvery. It was just this great salt-and-pepper that looked soooo hot. Our eyes met when he walked out and he looked so sleepy and hot and presidential that I couldn’t stop smiling bashfully at him. He put on the jacket, flew around what looked like the Parliament building, and the next thing I know, it’s like, seven years later and we have two beautiful sons and we are all walking down a sidewalk in a European town and I’m trying to convince him that we need to have another baby.

Then I woke up and realized that the dreamy narration my beautiful presidential husband was giving throughout the dream was actually George W. Bush on NPR talking about how awesome we’re being to Iraq. I nearly vomited.

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Posted on June 14, 2006, in Boys are pretty. Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Ow and whatever.

  1. Rain rain go away. Oh, the headache too!

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