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Drafted: An Almost Explicable Dream

From sometime in 2010. No edits.



Last week, I got asked out.

In Dreamland, this boy* and I had the sort of relationship where lots of people wonder if we're dating, or when we'll date, etc etc. (I think it's because Nadine told me that I am "the queen of the non-date date." Which reminded me of this conversation and made me laugh.)

As part of his I-like-you speech, he told me that a friend of his said to him, "Get gay, get out, or get balls." Meaning: if he were gay, then our friendship would make sense. If he had no plans to ever date me, he needed to not pseudo-date me. Or he needed to man up and ask me out.

Clearly he picked option #3.

Then he asked if he could borrow my car. Since it wasn't actually my car, but a car I had borrowed from a woman who goes to the church I grew up at (gotta love the random dream connections), I said I'd drive him. So we went to his "apartment," which was also on loan from someone else. It was a cross between a dorm room, a hospital bed, and this tiny Seattle apartment that I saw online the day before (It's a brilliant idea, but I can't imagine sharing a 182 sq ft apartment).

Then I woke up to this song.

(Again, I blame Nadine and her break-up-and-love-songs post. And my ipod, which played this yesterday.)



*I feel self-conscious these days about how I refer to the male gender. A few of my friends have pointed out that I call most men "boys," and they find it odd. But it is hard to completely rewire your brain. And part of me is still uncomfortable calling them all men, so it's doubly strange and I'm left self-conscious and unchanged.

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