Last night’s dream was starring my best friend (never seen her before) who was George Clooney’s It Girl.  George was everywhere.  I couldn’t get rid of the guy.  Sneaking in our pad at all hours of the night but was always in or out before the sun came up and the paparazzi were on his trail.  I was trying to get this friend of mine to stop being George’s unpaid whore (gotta cut back on the Dr. Laura listening) by getting her to insist George take her out in public.  She swore they were not sleeping together, as did he, but yeah right!  Who believes that?  He finally agreed to take her out but it was to like an ice cream shop opening or something, not a red carpet premiere.  Some place that no one was likely to know he was going to show up, therefore no chance of the paparazzi to shoot him with my friend.

Of course the motives for his late night antics and relunctancy to make this girl his public arm candy was revealed: he wanted me of course.  Yes, George is all about ME.  He was using her to get to me.  Once it came out, there was no tearing this guy off me.  And how uncomfortable is it to tell your BFF that Hollywood’s hottest is not hot for her?  Tough at it turns out, even in my dreams.  It did not end well at all.  I got over it quickly, however.  Because, hello?  It’s George Clooney.  I’m a fair weather dream friend when it comes to eligible bachelors on the A-List.  I guess the birth of Brangelina’s twins sealed the deal that Brad has moved on from my dreams.  I guess George is lonely too.  We’ll comfort each other.  It will be alright.