Nothing sacred in this house

4 September 2008: Post Sarah Palin’s speech at the RNC. Early morning before Gabriella leaves for work. The Exchange:

G: You’ll never guess who I dreamed about last night.

D: Sarah Palin?
I figured she had some sort of nightmare after staying up too late to watch Sarah Palin go on and on about….I’m not quite sure while panning a not-so-attractive audience dressed head to toe in political costumes.

G: Close. I dreamed about Hillary Clinton last night.

D: Was she naked?
That’s my standard question I pose to anyone who dreams about anyone, by the way.

G: Practically.

D: What do you mean?

G: She was coming on to me.

D: And how did that make you feel?
When you have a dream, it doesn’t matter what the dream was about even if you dream that someone you love is trying to kill you. Apparently, the only important bit is how the dream made you feel.

G: What do you mean?
What do you mean, what do I mean? I forget that English is not her first language. She’s only been speaking English since she was FIVE!

D: I mean, did you like it?

G: OH YEAHHHH but we kept getting interrupted.
Oh yeaaahhhh like OF COURSE I liked it. Who wouldn’t be turned on by Hillary Clinton?

D: By whom?

G: There were lots of people around who all wanted to speak with her.

D: Did she ask if you could pick it up later?

G: We didn’t talk much. She kept trying to kiss me. She was making all the moves.

D: Did she go for the hooters?

G: No, no hooters. What are you doing? Taking notes? You can’t write about this! My family reads your blog! Your family reads this blog!

D: But it’s just an innocent dream. And it’s funny! And you told me when I started blogging I could embarrass you because I can’t embarrass any other friends publically. Look how well Joan Rivers did humiliating her husband.

G: Did you forget to put away this orange juice carton? You know, orange juice is perishable.

D: So is my love for you.

G: I’m ignoring you.

D: Have a nice day, dear.

G: Bye, honey.