Only in my dreams

I've mentioned before that I have a propensity toward incredibly vivid dreams. I realized a long time ago that some dreams can best be interpreted only once they are shared with others; that the actual telling of the details unleashes a literal interpretation that might go unrealized left in the mind alone. I was reminded of this just a few minutes ago as I shared last night's dream with a friend, and in my relaying it, I uncovered something so literal and obvious, I haven't stopped laughing since.

Some background: I have a slight obsession with this guy who goes to my gym. Because I have the maturity of a third grader, I don't talk to him (much) or do anything that would suggest that I like him, other than check his MySpace page relentlessly and dream about him on a fairly regular basis. Last night I dreamt that we were cuddling on the couch (even though we have never actually met in real life, mind you) when suddenly I looked down and became embarrassed about my outfit. I was wearing these horrible red socks that I don't even own in real life, but for some reason thought fit to wear on a first date. I thought about this on and off all day, and it only made me cringe again at the thought.

As I'm relaying this to my friend, however, I realize I'm saying the words "red socks", or "red sox". And as I caught the double meaning, it occured to me that I have a picture on MySpace wearing a Red Sox hat at Fenway Park. I realize that the connection to baseball or even just MySpace seemed a much more likely explanation for my nightmarish wardrobe than me actually making a poor footwear choice. Although I should know by now that even in dreams, I'm not as smooth as I'd like to think.

While I've managed to learn this guy's real name (it's amazing what you can find on MySpace), I think of him as someone else, based on the first dream I ever had about him. I call him Roger.

In that dream, I was meeting him for the very first time, and he introduced himself to me as Roger. What an awful name, I thought. No one from our generation has that name anymore! Tongue-tied and somewhat disappointed, I had little to say in return, and instead could only repeat that famous line from Airplane!: Roger, Roger.

And then, from there, it was pretty much over, Oveur. I had struck out.