Always on my mind...

Never mind the fact that its August, hockey and the NHL are still in my subconscious.

Last night I had a dream that Washinton Ovechkins', Mike Green was my boyfriend. We just started going out and I still felt weird when I kissed him. I was freaking out inside about how long would we last. I kept thinking "in a year will we still be together?"

When I woke up and just kept asking myself, why Mike Green? I mean he's, aight but he's no Brooks Laich, hubba hubba.

DREAM SEQUENCE

Last night I had this dream where I was the newest member of the Vancouver Canucks (random much?) and it was the first game of the season. As I was walking up to the entrance of the arena I was met by Mike Richards (who, I guess, is on Vancouver, apparently) and Trevor Linden. Mike was holding Trevor the way you hold your grandpa when helping him up the stairs. I grabbed Trevor's other arm and Mike and I escorted him through all the journalists and photographers and fans. Mike told me that we were going to do a special presentation for Trevor even though the Canucks already did one at the end of last season.

Once inside Mike took Trevor down some hallway and I went to the dressing room. The first person I see is a half dressed Dany Heatley (hubba hubba!), he smiled at me like the way a guy smiles at you when he's most likely picturing you naked he's about to come ~*mack*~ you. I laughed and asked him "what" and he just laughed back at me. I went to my cubicle/stall thingy and started taking of my jacket; I turned around and right behind me was Marc-Andre Fleury . He was just sitting there, staring off into space. I walked over to him and took his hand and I whispered to him "I know Marc-Andre, I know!". He was pretty bummed out that he was one of the penguins that got traded, no one saw it coming, we all thought it would have been Ryan Malone but alas 'we' got Marc-Andre Fleury.

DREAM SEQUENCE

So I had this dream last night:

Marc Staal was my boyfriend and after a night of clubbing and drinking I made him go to a strip club with me because I thought it would be hilarious and kind of hot, at the same time. I could tell he didn't want to go but he took me anyway like a good boyfriend would. I was drunk, and he was visibly upset but he humored me and endured it. I was wearing this gold sequent dress, with black tights, and black pumps, and had the body of Alessandra Ambrosio (ooo so stylish...and hot!).

We got this private room, and I stared pole dancing (no I didn't take off anything), but Marc wouldn't look at me, I kept twirling because, I was wasted and somehow thought he'd look eventually. Finally the waitress came in and brought our drinks, mine was a martini his was a gin and tonic or vodka, something clear like that. I stopped dancing and hanging by one hand I just looked at him, he was really upset but wouldn't say anything. His cheeks were all flushed, and he kept on shifting and moving his lips as if he was going to say something but he always stopped himself before he did.

I got off the pole walked over to him and he still didn't look at me, I was near tears because I didn't know what was wrong. I moved closer to him so his bent leg was between mine, and as he rested his head against my chest I understood: He thought too much of me, and respected me too much for me to be pole dancing for him, I felt like an asshole, and I felt like a slut. The he stood up, kissed me in the forehead, and with his arm around me, we walked out of that strip club.


What a vivid dream, eh? So detailed! AND wouldn't the world be a better place if ~*dream*~ Marc Staal, actually existed? *sigh*