I've always imagined that if I actually did meet someone like that, I'd be kind of like how I was at this big client meeting last week. One of the people asked me a direct question on my opinion about something and I articulated my response pretty well - even if I did feel like a red tide was moving up my body towards my face and that the words were coming out of someone else's mouth. The nervousness was due to the fact that I'm not the lead on this account and I didn't want to make a wrong step and there was a potential for my point of view to fall outside of what we'd usually advise to this client. But the thing was, I was asked directly for my opinion and, as we've established here already, I'm completely incapable of lying. I feel I've done well enough when I can soften the blow on how I state my case; it's just too much for me to resist being confronted like that and not tell the truth as I see it. So. I said what I thought even while the red tide moved and the danger of my mouth babbling on and on incoherently was all too real.
Thus it was a bit of a surprise for me to dream that I would be struck numb at the sight of Vince Vaughn. Vince Vaughn of all people! I mean, I like what I know about him and, from what I've seen, it appears he goes out of his way to put the public at ease, even if it must be a real annoyance for him personally to do so. But there I was in my dream, at a store of some kind comparing this product to that, when I recognized his voice a few feet away at a check stand. At first I thought, No - it can't be. Then I remembered the filming and looked up. I couldn't look away. I couldn't move. It was as if I was a rabbit frozen into stillness upon catching sight of a wolf. The entire left side of my body went so numb that when it finally occurred to me that if I didn't want him to catch me staring at him it would be a good idea for me to move, I couldn't do it. Thankfully he was with someone, talking as they walked away, and I was saved from the humiliation of being caught out acting like such an idiot.
When I finally could move again, I raced to find my husband and tell him all about it. He was sitting next to Sean Penn (I don't know why Sean Penn. Maybe due to Mystic River?) and it didn't occur to me until after I'd unburdened myself that I should probably be embarrassed about having blurted out my sad tale in front of Sean Penn.
Then I woke up, really disturbed at the realization that I would have had dreams all these years about meeting people who actually do mean something to me and had never acted that way in my dreams, but completely fell apart over Vince Vaughn. The part of me that's interested in Jung and his teachings is itching to take this dream apart for meaning. The rest of me is just amazed at myself because I do believe in the notion that your subconscious picks up clues about yourself that you don't necessarily acknowledge consciously - and if my subconscious is saying I'd be more freaked out at meeting Vince Vaughn than Bono it makes me think I don't know myself at all.
After coming more fully awake I realized I was feeling pretty miserably nauseous and had to make a dash out of bed. So perhaps it was all like the kind of dream you have when fevered. Disturbing, but really not all that meaningful in the end. I think I'll go with that theory because at the moment my tummy can use all the help it can get in settling down.