Dreams are funny business. Funny as in strange. I don't usually have humorous dreams. I'm usually subconsciously aware that I'm dreaming, but last night was one of those where you're jolted awake and the surprise and disappointment that it was all imagination kicks you in the gut.
Dreams are also very choppy, as in they make perfect sense until you rationalize it through and realize just how stupid it was. So here it goes.
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I don't know much about Adam Brody. Sure, he was a star on the O.C., but I never watched TV. It would be safe to assume that everything I knew about this actor was from reading the article about him featured in this week's Time Magazine. But that didn't explain why Ariel's parents were suddenly very close friends with this guy. For some absurd reason, this eyecandy actor needed a place to stay in Norcal, and my parents had offered him my brother's room to stay in.
My brother remains absent throughout the rest of this story.
Ariel, Allison, and I were loitering around the airport parking lot, chatting about nothing in particular. Ariel had the complete rocker-chick vibe going, dolled up in vintage t-shirts and multiple studs and rings pierced through her ears. Allison and I, however, remained unchanged.
The car clicked twice, signaling that my father had unlocked the doors. As we climbed in, Ariel described Adam Brody's situation. As we buckled up in the back seat of my family's minivan, I was telling them about how according to the article, Adam Brody felt pigeon-holed by his role as Seth Cohen, when Mr. Adam Brody himself stepped into the car and told me to stop talking about him.
I had never really seen this guy before, save photographs poking here and there in various magazines. The actor I found myself face to face with was tall and lithe with dark hair. He probably would have been handsome if he had not been glaring at me so viciously. He then said to me, "You really should stretch and exercise more if you don't want to be so fat."
Though I was steamed by this comment, I was still stunned by the fact that this piece of paprazzi meat was sitting in my (techinically, my family's) minivan. He took a seat in the middle passenger seat directly in front of me and sat there quietly, looking extremely tired and frustrated.
Later along the road, we took a right turn that jolted the car, causing my leg to jerk upwards and kick the back of his chair. Then he turned around and his eyes shot daggers at me, but I had been listening to "On the Other Side of the Crash" by Thursday on my iPod and ignored him.
Ariel's parents were already waiting for us in our driveway, and they greeted this rude and unfriendly Hollywood star. Peeved by his attitude, I climbed up the stairs and headed towards my room. Looking in, I realized that my room was a humongous mess. For some reason, I inherently knew that the guy was a neat freak. Not looking forward to another insult, I slammed the door shut and walked over to my parents' room, where my mother was folding laundry.
I began to unload my frustration, beginning with my immediate dislike for the jerk. My mother merely nodded. Allison, on the otherhand, whole-heartedly agreed. She could even quote his insults word for word. Royally peeved, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink. As I looked around, I noticed that neither the jerk nor Ariel's parents were in the house. They were gone.
I spoke to my father, who was sitting in the living room with the TV chattering on about the war. I asked him where Adam Brody had gone. He explained without looking up that Adam Brody had to catch a train to Japan. Dubious, I said, "How the hell are you supposed to take a train to Japan?" My father completely ignored my question. As I trudged up the stairs, I asked one more question. "Why did he even bother showing up here in the first place?" My father replied, "He needed a break from Hollywood, somewhere they aren't likely to find him."
I walked into my room. Ariel was standing by my dresser, apparently trying on different earrings as she gazed in her reflection in my window. "Well, thank god he's gone," I announced as I sank into the bed, exhausted from all the drama that had happened. She shrugged and said, "He'll be back in a few weeks. At least you guys met with a BAM, though it was a pretty nasty way to meet. Almost seemed Hollywood style." I snorted and replied, "Sure, how often does a person call a complete stranger fat? He's been around too many waifish models and actresses; I'm not even that fat."
An electronic Disney song rang as Ariel answered her cell phone. "Hey, what's up?" she said. I gave up trying to follow her conversation and waited for her to finish. She laughed. "Sure. Get me some earrings in Japan, alright?" Her cell phone closed with a snap.
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- I read the Time magazine article on Adam Brody that afternoon.
- I read Ariel's emails that day.
- I saw Allison running at the track that evening.
- When we passed by the Light Rail that morning, my brother and I talked about Japan' Bullet Train.
- I have been listening to Thursday's CD recently.
- I have been worrying about gaining too much weight.
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