will Betty be the one who he loves truly, or will it be the one that we'll call... loulie?
Y'all You guys, I have not been sleeping.
I know, I know, didn't Maggie Mason write a book so you don't have to listen to me talk about how I can't sleep, or what I had for lunch. Yes, she did. But I haven't read it because did you know there are, like, 12 Gossip Girl books? Twelve. (Poorly-written) Gossip. Girl. Books. (Last night was the season finale of Gossip Girl, and Abigail and I have unearthed so much Upper East Side-y goodness on the Inernets this morning that we may both get fired from our jobs. Whatever, though. After a whole season of watching and dissecting Gossip Girl, I'm pretty sure we can both get jobs as Trophy Wives.)
I haven't been sleeping for various reasons ranging from specific to vague. Like, specifically, I have been wigged out about the girl that was murdered on that hiking trail in north Georgia, so very near my house. And specifically, I have been following the primary elections with invested tenacity, and interactive blue and red maps and political pundits and the electoral college and people quoting the Constitution, it gets me hot excited about democracy. Vaguely, I'm restless.
Last night, though, I did sleep, and I slept so hard that I dozed through a thunderstorm and a power outage and also I had this dream that I was playing basketball for The University of Tennessee Lady Volunteers (this is a recurring dream), and even though I was a second-stringer, I was still training with the best team in the country (hush your mouth, Geo), and Pat Summitt loved me and Knoxville loved me, but then Pat Summitt (my hero of heroes) said to me as I sat on the bench, proudly, so proudly, in my orange and white that I had to choose between my dreams: was I going to be a basketball hero or was I going to work really hard and learn to write? My high school basketball coach posed the same question to me in a dream last week, and I punched his balls off. But I couldn't do that to Pat Summitt, because she's my childhood hero, and, well, she doesn't have balls. J.K. Rowling, she appeared in my dream, and I knew a had to choose. Books or basketball. Books or basketball. She must decide, she must decide, even though I made them up she must decide!
Fortunately, Margaret woke me because she's more terrified of thunder than I am of bears, and I didn't have to pick between Pat Summitt and J.K. Rowling. I'll be afraid to sleep tonight, because if I dream that dream again, I will surely wake up in two pieces, having been rent in twain by an impossible decision. Sophie will lose her fame and it will become known as Heather's Choice, and... I think not sleeping is giving me delusions of grandeur. I wonder where I can trade those in for visions of sugarplums.
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Today on The Collective, Jennie tells you why she hates wonder, and why that makes her an asshole.
Comments
Tell your dream people that you are HEATHER ANNE HOGAN and you can do both, thank you very much.
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No, thank yours.
Posted by: Jennie! | January 10, 2008 11:53 AM
i had a dream last night that i totally wanted to tell you about, but of course i forgot it.
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If you remember, I'll be over at Collective HQ.
Posted by: kat! | January 10, 2008 12:06 PM
Choose between basketball and writing? That's just crazy talk. Jennie!'s right.
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It's like choosing between chocolate and caramel!
Posted by: shari | January 10, 2008 12:25 PM
I'm sure Shaq has written a book and/or become a movie star ... Hell, in keeping with the HOT election theme, Bill Bradley even managed to 1) play basketball 2) go to Princeton and 3) run for pres.
You can do anything you set your sights on HAH - that's what we likes about you best. You have dreams enough for all of us.
Of course - you must have woken up saying "damn ... it was only a dream, because in real life I'd be shooting to play for THE BEST woman's basketball team in the nation" ;)
geo
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Over Thanksgiving, I found out that Shaq had "starred" in a movie where he was a genie, and he was called Shazzam! Or something. It sounded very scary. I can't wait until March Madness, Geo. I am going to taunt you mercilessly.
Posted by: geo | January 10, 2008 12:26 PM
Edit: that would be "women's basketball"
geo
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What's that? UCONN grads can't spell? SHOCKING.
Posted by: geo | January 10, 2008 12:27 PM
Also, I'm really glad he didn't choose Loulie.
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Loulie was so nice, but, as we know, "Not Rachel."
Posted by: Jennie! | January 10, 2008 12:28 PM
Mighty Girl? Oh, sister. I do love you.
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Somewhere in the middle of all this, I fell in love with you. I'm saying I love you. I'm saying it out loud. Don't say we're not right for each other, because the way I see it, we might not be right for anybody else.
Posted by: Jenn The Sister | January 10, 2008 12:35 PM
" he split robins arrow in twain"!
good luck to you. hoops and hopes; give em both!
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I love that movie!
Posted by: sarah g | January 10, 2008 12:48 PM
If you have to choose, why not choose both?
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Both and ice cream! Good advice. :)
Posted by: Jenn (the not-sister) | January 10, 2008 12:49 PM
If it weren't for you being woken up by Margaret, I would have sworn that Jennie! wrote this, especially the part about the balls. You two might wanna think about hanging out or something.
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Gol' darn, Peefer, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.
Posted by: peefer | January 10, 2008 02:15 PM
Not Rachem? What the hell's a Rachem? Is that some stupid paleontology word that I wouldn't know because I'm just a waitress?
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You know, that's true. You'd be a great person to have around the day AFTER an emergency.
Posted by: Abigail | January 10, 2008 02:23 PM
I DO NOT HAVE CHUBBY ANKLES.
Also, Peefer said balls. Heh.
Posted by: Jennie! | January 10, 2008 02:43 PM
I hate it when people try to have me make a Sophie's choice. I'm glad you woke up too.
Posted by: churlita | January 10, 2008 04:10 PM
Are you sleeping in the appropriate sleep wear?
Posted by: Aunt Andi | January 10, 2008 05:03 PM
If you're worried about murderers and such, and it's keeping you up, I recommend Gavin de Becker's The Gift of Fear. Basically, it's about recognizing the difference between useful fears and not useful fears.
It's that rare kind of book about crimes and such that leaves you wiser and less fearful when you're done than when you started it.
Posted by: Mike | January 11, 2008 11:30 AM