All I Have To Do Is Dream

Though hearing someone relate their dreams can be dreadfully tedious, I have to share one I just had, because it may be the best dream I've ever had. Sometimes dreams can't be explained, but this one was pretty straightforward, and there's nothing to be interpreted. It was simply a life that I would love to live.

As I recall, the dream was me and the model Paulina Porizkova falling in love, and I moved in with her in her fantastic apartment, which I believe was in New York's West Village, where I have always wanted to live (it might have been at times in Paris,  because in the dream I was attempting to learn French, which was my bete noir subject in college). Everything was idealized--the place had a private courtyard, so the front door was off the street, and a skylight, through which we watched a multitude of fireflies during the night. Even my dog Paco made an appearance, welcomed and happy.

I have long been enamored with Porizkova, for at least 35 years now. When she was one of the most popular supermodels, I had her posters on the wall, bought the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit calendars in which she appeared, and in those pre-Internet days cut out her pictures every time I found one in a magazine, keeping them in an envelope that I thought of as "The Paulina File." Of course she is ridiculously beautiful, but she has always cultivated a reputation as being the "smart" model--I remember in one of the SI Swimsuit anniversary retrospective years she was pictured sitting in a cafe, wearing black, smoking a cigarette, reading Dickens' Our Mutual Friend. She has written a novel on her own.

I have never seen her in person, but fate has toyed with me. My roommate Bob saw her when he took in a taping of the David Letterman program on which she appeared. Then, a few years ago, she stayed at the bed and breakfast that my mother owns in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. My brother, who manages the place, knew who she was immediately. I slowly died of envy.

Of course this is just a dream, as she has been married to rock star Ric Ocasek for thirty years (although there is a report that they have separated---perhaps my sub-conscious acted on this glimmer of hope). She is now 54, so this crush is age appropriate at least.

How strange it is that we dream, and that these dreams can take so many forms, and we only occasionally remember them. I have dreams that I remember upon awakening but quickly fade, like an old photograph. But some remain sharp. I wanted to write this down quickly, so I it will be always remembered. I wish I could go back to sleep and go back into it.