I know how boring it is to hear about other people's dreams, but I had an anxiety dream last night that just might mean something. The origin of the anxiety is either the upcoming Rumble show (this Monday April 3 at the Middle East Upstairs) or the approximately 1.78 tons of salsa I ingested ten minutes before I went to bed.

So in the dream, I am late for the Daytime Emmy awards. Apparently, I am up for an Emmy (the dream gods didn't share for what) and I am not sure whether I am going to go because even in dream life, I think awards shows are stupid. So my dad convinces me that I should go just in case I win, because it might be a good opportunity to pull some big prank.

Aside: it's always been a recurrent fantasy of mine to win some big award that everyone thinks is actually important (Oscar, Emmy, class valedictorian, etc.) and make a complete mockery of the awards during my acceptance speech with juvenile fart and masturbation jokes. This fantasy has haunted me since I was in junior high. I've never outgrown it. I want it so bad I can taste it. Luckily for the world, I have achieved nothing worthy of any acclaim whatsoever.

So back to the dream - I'm late for the Daytime Emmy awards and now I realize I have nothing to wear. I want to wear jeans and a t-shirt to further mock the system, because even in dreams I'm a wicked bad-ass. Then, this weird morphed combination of my dead grandmother and Joan Rivers shows up in my room to berate me for not wearing a tuxedo. This was every bit as frightening as it sounds. I woke up immediately. End of dream.

Speaking of Daytime Emmys, a friend of mine when I was living in LA (who has since gone on to bigger things) won a Daytime Emmy for her role in a soap opera, leading to the following exchange:

Her: Take a look at this. I won an Emmy!
Me: Wow, that's great! Congratulations! (looks at the statue; disappointed) Oh.
Her: What's wrong?
Me: Nothing... it's just... it's a Daytime Emmy.
Her: (punches me in the stomach)

I'm such a dick. I really am.