i’m sorry chris pratt

I know that dream journaling is the death of blogging BUT. Hear me out, this was a good one.

So the other night I was standing in line for a massive goth club party with my sister Sophie. I was pretty ambivalent about the party, and the rigorous means by which you had to prove your worthiness to enter it, but my ambivalence is what ultimately proved my suitability for the venue. One of the steps you had to take before going inside was to close yourself up in a small closet and sit quietly for hours, contemplating existence. So goth.

There were more vile details about the line, but none of that really mattered. It was just the backdrop to my conversation with Sophie. Because Sophie was trying to set me up with Chris Pratt. Apparently we had known each other for some time, and had a prior unrequited crush situation.

Chris was too nervous to approach me himself (obviously), but Sophie assured me that he thought a relationship with me would be “incredible.”

Yes. Yes it would be.

(And props to my subconscious for having such high self-esteem!)

I dithered. I dithered over Chris Pratt! “But I love Randy,” I told her. “We just had a baby!” She seemed to think this was a wonderful opportunity I shouldn’t give up. What if I regretted never trying things out with Chris? But the more I thought about it, the more my decision was clear. Sure, Chris was cute, and funny, and rich. But he would be away for months at a time working, and he seemed like the kind of goofball that probably wouldn’t help much around the house. Randy and I would never be rich, but we are both cute and funny, and we make a great team.

So, I’m sorry Chris Pratt. It’s never going to work between us. Maybe we’ll meet up again one day, if I ever get shipwrecked on Hunk Island.

You were right though, it would have been incredible!

sam and chris pratt


dream journal

I’ve finished one out of four of the static pages for this site.  That’s got to be some kind of record.

In life news, Mr. and Mrs. Cat are still trying to move despite limitless obstacles. I’ve basically got us packed to the gills and living out of boxes, so hopefully it doesn’t take too much longer. WE’LL SEE.

Please enjoy this excerpt from my dream journal.

March 16, 2006:

A group of friends and I were running around town in the Bay area to film scenes for our movie. We stumbled upon an indoor set for the show Monk, but Tony Shalhoub was having FITS, furious that the show lasted more than one year because he hates English television and he wanted to escape everything. 

Secret officials in black suits showed up because Tony had a mission to accomplish in Yugoslavia. He ran for it, while I was still fumbling with my video camera to get the footage.

My dream stuttered ahead to another scene, at the beach beneath a huge bridge. We missed a bus and got stranded down there. Suddenly the weather went insane and I again fumbled with my camera.  Half of my vision was through the camera lens, and half of my vision was through my own eyes. Everything took on sepia tones like it was an old film reel. The bridge groaned overhead, columns of water erupting upward from the ocean. The dream went to shaky cam vision, darting back and forth as I tried to see what was going on, it was like the earth itself was shaking apart!