Alison asks and she shall receive. ‘Tis true.
Last night I went to bed with thoughts of sweet slumber.
Dream on….
I woke up this morning and laughed. Long and hard.
It all started flooding back. Alison and I have always
shared a common love of the movies and certain tv shows.
Yes, even when we were wee little girls. Emergency, Chips,
Adam-12. Back and forth between the houses.
Am I aging myself? Am I aging Alison? Whatever.
When we got older, we loved 90210, Melrose Place and all
that silly tv. I remember loving Jason Patric and Alison
calling him my boyfriend…I was flattered in some spastic way.
Alison pursued her (our) passion
and went down to LA and got right into the mix of it all.
Big Hollywood film studios. This girl wasn’t messing around.
She did this while I raised a sweet boy and lived vicariously through her escapades. She often included me in them. She got me many a job reading
scripts, invited me to premieres and parties. She never left me
behind. And for that, I am grateful, mainly because I am a dork.
Grateful enough that my dream life often revolves around celebs,
and sometimes even Alison. (Lots of times.)
So…. the dream.
I was going to acting classes. Yes, I was. It was in a really funky
warehouse sort of setting. It had been really sassed up and decorated
the cool way that you would imagine. It was tres Hollywood. I
think it was about 3 months of classes. A couple of times a week. Until the last week, which was an intensive. We spent from morning until evening “honing” our “craft”. Imagine that.
I do need to interject here that I have never had a desire to act. Not even a little. Be a rock star? Sure. Act? Not so much. Not that any sort of reality seem to matter in my kooky dreams.
Anyhow, we are really getting down to the wire and trying to get
all the lines nailed. We had a final in the class. It consisted of a 15 minute monologue of some sort.
Did I mention that Jeremy Piven was in my class?
He was kind of stand offish towards me during the first couple of months, so imagine my surprise when we became best friends that last week. Total best friends. Weird, yet it all made sense to me in my dream.
I know that many people have no clue who Jeremy Piven (or JP, as I called him in my dream) is. He was in a sweet little sitcom called Cupid in the 90′s, with Paula Marshall. Alison and I were all over it! We loved that show and JP. We were so sad when it was cancelled. He is recently in a fabulous HBO show called Entourage and is BRILLIANT in it. I’m mad for JP, even though he’s supposed to be a real prima donna in real life. Whatever, not like I live in the real world.
Anyhow, JP and I start really bonding, going out to dinner after our classes were over, texting and even going to the tanning booth together! So L.A.
We chatted about Entourage. I vaguely remembering shouting, after a couple glasses of wine, ” I LOVE ARI GOLD” and JP laughing loudly and passionately.
Ohhhh, I soaked it up. He was far too much fun to keep to myself. So I did what any good friend would do. I called Alison and invited her to join us for dinner the night of our final performance. We would do our performance and she would watch, and then the three of us would head out for dinner. Such a simple life. (Alison let out a little scream when I told her that JP was in my class AND my new best boy friend.)
The night of the performance was suddenly upon us. I’m a nervous wreck. Fuh-reaking out. Shaking. Feel a little barfy, if I can be honest.
Sort of like first date jitters.
I see Alison out in the audience. She gives me two thumbs up and her big goofy “pal” grin. I knock it out of the ballpark! I float off the stage and slide some skin to JP as we pass in the hallway. He is on his way to do his performance. I know he’s going to kill it. He always does. (still not sure why this accomplished stage and tv actor is taking acting classes with ME, but…whatever, I embraced the madness.)
I pack up all my stuff and walk out to the front since everyone has completed their parts and the milling about has begun. Wine is being served, and I look for Alison and JP. I find them in a dark corner. Just talking, but talking in each other’s personal space. I’m feeling the love. Sweet, sweet love. I join in and feel a bit like a third wheel. No big whoop. I’m not going to let it harsh my buzz and that glorious rush of adrenaline I’ve been feeling since I stepped on the stage.
We laugh, drink wine and then one by one we are called to the back to hear what our judges/teachers have to say about our performance. We need all three judges to grade us and pass us. Whatever that means.
JP went first. He came out with tears in his eyes. He starts shaking his head and pacing. He informs us that he’s “flunked” the course. He’s shaken and upset. I’m called back next, and am terrified that I will flunk, as well. (At the same time, when I woke up I was laughing at the seriousness of it all. It was hilarious.)
When I went before the judges, they all sang to me. They sang some songs from Mama Mia. (Gracie and I have been watching this for the last couple of weeks) Then they informed me that I was the Recipient of the Grande Award.
Whatever that means. It was all too funny and strange and Broadway-ish. I floated out of the room….
Once I got out there, Alison was gone, as was JP. I called their cells. I looked for their cars. They were both gone and neither was answering their phones. Nice. I was a WINNER and had nobody to share it with. Harumph.
So, it gets funnier. I get a phone call from Alison telling me that they are headed to Vegas to get married. MARRIED. Jeremy Piven and Alison.
Then I woke up.
I’m letting my freak flag fly.
