I had a dream last night of a high school/early twenties crush: Steve Weisbrod. (Of course all crushes must include an entire name: Jordan Catalano from MSCL or Ben Covington from Felicity). He was a senior during my sophomore year and looked like a baby faced Leo. My friends and I idolized that whole class of '95 as celebrities. In some ways they still are compartmentalized as a representation of adolescent Greek gods. In the dream, Steve clearly delineated our lines between hooking up and relationships. We would could fit into the former, but not the latter. He was speaking to me in infantile terms, as if I could not comprehend or see signs. In reality, the sophomoric crush transformed one night around the age of 22. It was then that I was clueless, did not take hints.
This morning, I awoke at 530 am, so why am I now dreaming of Steve years later?
I could not help but laugh when I realized the reason why the dream appeared last night. I watched the hilarious All About Steve earlier that day. Sandra Bullock played a 30 something eccentric clueless female stalker obsessed with a guy named Steve that she had a brief blind date with. Bradley Cooper was Steve. (Aren't guys named Brad always movie heartthrobs? Teen Witch.) A blondie, like my Steve, who had to repeatedly clarify his disinterest in Sandra, because she would not take a hint.
I love how our unconscious can play with our memories from years ago and parallel them into our daily lives, even if only from movie titles and themes. I know my days of being a sophomore were over 15 years ago. Yet instantly our dreams can take us back into those awkward hormone driven teenage bodies. Those '95 seniors will continue to reappear in my dreams as representations of my untouchable muses. Hopefully now I have learned to take hints.
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