Friday, April 23, 2010

Benjamin Bratt & Scrapbooking

How can I put into PG-rated words how I feel about looking at Benjamin Bratt?

I can't, so I'll just tell you my story...

I had a dream last night about Benjamin Bratt. And he was extremely sexy and a football player. I was in the mall going to down the escalator to go into a scrapbook store when the PA announced that players from the football team would wash your car in exchange for a scrapbook-related project.

And so Ben comes up to me and says he'll wash my car if I'll make something for him. And he smells so good, and he leans in close like he did with Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. Mmm, mmm, mmm. But instead of taking my car keys so that he can go wash my car (which I never did even attempt to give him), he followed me through the scrapbook store so that we could decide what I would make for him.

The hardest part was that he had no idea what he wanted me to make: a card, a scrapbook layout, a mini-book, whatever. But for some reason he became fixated on the patterned papers and stickers with a baby boy theme. And we looked for items and went all around the store. The frustrating part for me was that I just couldn't decide what to make for him, and once I settled on making a quick tag book that he could easily carry around, I couldn't find tags!! And the freakin' die cut machine wasn't working. Ugh!!!!!

(Why is it that I'm more concerned with scrapbooking at this point than the fact that I'm me and he's Benjamin Bratt and I'm waaaaaay out of my league here?)

So this whole time, Ben is somewhat in my personal space A LOT, which I didn't mind, but totally was oblivious to the fact that HELLO! HE'S BENJAMIN BRATT!!!

And he never did wash my car, and I never did make the tag book. I think somehow I may have gotten to kiss his neck - OMG!! But that was the extent of it all. I don't know if I forced myself to dream that part. At least he didn't have to be forced in my dream.


I really don't want anyone to analyze this dream. The fact that I think scrapbooking is more important in my dreams than paying attention to Benjamin Bratt's come-ons falls somewhere in the "completely lost her mind" category. Completely lost my mind, even in my own dreams. And I would hate to be committed over this insanity, even though it probably registers as a totally legit reason.


Blogger JulesHollis said...

That's hilarious!

April 23, 2010 at 4:15 PM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home