BEST DREAM EVER!!!
So last night I had a dream about Paris Hilton. (No, not that kind of dream)
I dreamt that we were at a spa getting pedicures at the same time. So we started talking. I was very calm and talked to her like she was just another person.
(Which is totally not what would happen in real life. In real life I would freak out and start screaming like a fucking twelve year old and ask her to sign my boob so I could get it permanently tattooed on. )
But this was a dream, so although I was SOOOOO excited to be talking to her, I remained calm and just chit chatted about girl stuff. She was there with Kimberly Stewart –her new BFF since her and Nicole had their cat fight. We were getting along famously, so Paris invited me to go shopping with her and Kim after the Spa. We were suddenly in Vegas in the new Wynn hotel’s mall. I have never been there, but I am sure Bill’s description of the hotel helped me create the mall in my mind. Every store we went into, the girls just walked around and casually pointed at things they wanted while the shop clerks followed around grabbing the items. In the second store, Paris asked “J, (yeah, we were already on a nick name basis!) are you feeling ok?”
“Yeah, I am great! Why?” I responded with a smile as big as Outer Mongolia that I couldn’t and didn’t really want to get rid of.
Apparently, she had never seen someone go shopping without actually buying anything. Not wanting to squelch our rapidly blossoming friendship, I started perusing the store to find an item I might actually be able to afford.
I couldn’t find anything for under $500. I finally settled on a white wife beater tank top for $500. Yep, a tank that I could buy at Old navy for $5 dollars, I was willing to spend $500 on just so I could stay in the cool crowd with Paris and Kim.
As I approached the counter, the sales person said to me, “Oh, Miss Hilton has had everything charged to her room. Your item will be sent to your room.”
SWEET! Paris Hilton just bought me a piece of clothing. I kicked myself for not having gotten the turquoise leather mini skirt that I had really wanted. And wait, did they say my room? I guess the dream fairies had smiled on me and somehow managed to get me a suite next to Paris. As we walked into the next store, a symphony began. (This being a dream – it wasn’t just music in my head – there was an actual orchestra playing right inside the store.) We were here – we had reached my heaven – The Manolo Blahnik store. “Ahhhhhh,” the angels chimed.
This was the happiest moment of my (sleeping) life. It was fantastic – I must have tried on 100 pairs of shoes. Every one was beautiful and fit perfectly.
“We’ll take them all,” Paris casually instructed the staff. They boxes were swiftly gathered and taken to our rooms. We got matching pairs! I could tell she was considering crowning me her new BFF!
A crowd had started to follow us and by this time, there was at least 500 people waiting outside the store to catch a glimpse of the heiress. As we exited the store, she politely stopped to sign autographs and take pictures. Kim and I were smiling in the pictures next to her. I remember asking on of the people to please send me a copy of these photos so I could remember this day forever.
Sadly, after a little more shopping and some ridiculously bad gambling on Kim’s part, the dream ended.
I awoke slightly confused. Why was I in this small dark room with t-shirt material sheets on the bed? What had happened to the enormous suite at the Wynn and the 3,000 count Egyptian cotton sheets? I ran to my closet and came to the harsh realization that this had been a dream.
There was not 100 pair of Manolo’s crying out for their turn to be worn.
Alas, there is no picture for me to frame, only the memories written here to remind me of my best dream ever.
But I am happy today and have a renewed love for my Paris, or "H" as she wanted me to call her. (I was "J", Kim was "K", but "P" sounded too icky, so we called her "H" for Hilton.)
Tonight I am going to rent The Hillz and House of Wax in hopes of falling asleep and going on another adventure with the lovely Miss Hilton.
And hopefully tonight Nicole will come along – I miss that crazy bitch.
1 Comments:
I can't believe you called Nicole a crazy bitch! I know Nic can be a bit much at times, but to call her that on your blog is just uncalled for.
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