One night, I dreamt that I was falling in love with a younger, unfamous, heterosexual Michael Stipe, the lead singer of R.E.M. We held hands and skipped in a green field. We came upon some clover, and I joyfully exclaimed, "Clover!" We ended up at some abandoned house, which apparently was an old hang-out of one of my friends. I did some graffiti that paired my name with Michael's.

I am barely familiar with R.E.M., so this was a strange dream. I played a mix tape in my car that day, and an R.E.M. song just happened to be on there.

Some nights later, I dreamt that I was hanging out with Kurt Cobain. We were pretty good friends, as I understood it. He was shy and had a nice smile and just picked at his guitar while we talked. People were discussing what they were going to dress like for Halloween, and Kurt Cobain told me that he wanted to be Axl Rose. I said, "Nuh-uh! Really? I wanted to be Axl too!" I added, "Well, I guess you'd be a better Axl since you are a big rock star and all ... " He just smiled modestly.

I think I almost told him, "Aren't you dead?"

That morning I had to listen to "Lithium," for it was all up in my head.

Finally, a few nights after that, I dreamed that I was at some sort of school-related dance-thingee. At the end of the events, our celebrity guests were to be introduced. (Note: The idea that my school would have celebrity guests at any of its functions is just absurd. Even the idea of my school just having functions is a little outlandish!) It was my job to throw a frisbee when the celebrities came in the building. Marilyn Manson was about to be called, and I joked that I would throw a pink frisbee with flowers and a smiley face on it! Mr. Manson came in, and I shook his hand because he was sort of an acquaintance. He noted that he'd "seen me around." After the ceremonies, I asked where he was, so I could take some pictures, but he was already gone.

Can anyone see the more subtle pattern in these three dreams? It's obvious that in each one I'm down with a big rock star, but here's the pattern: each dream decreases in the star's closeness to me but increases in the degree of celebrity. I was in love with Michael Stipe, but he wasn't famous at all. I was friends with Kurt Cobain, and he was modest but obviously a celebrity. I barely knew Marilyn Manson yet he was a huge rock star-type and left the dance right when he could. Very interesting. Where's Sigmund Freud when you need him?!