Dreaming Of A Ballplayer

I'm on another vacation. This one is in RI visiting the family, enjoying th beach and eating as much seafood as I can before I head back to TX. There's not much to tell you right now so that's partly why I haven't been blogging on a regular basis, but I have a story for you coming up. I spent some time with my best friend over the weekend, I'm reading a lot, and working on my revisions and new manuscripts. The weather is kind of overcast today and rain is threatening, but tomorrow is supposed to be hot--around 92- and I'm going fishin'! I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the summer (or winter if you're in the southern hemisphere).


Okay. Onto my story. Well, actually, it's a strange dream I had last night. It was about me meeting my favorite Boston Red Sox player, Curt Schilling. Now in the dream, he was walking with his wife and I was with my best friend. I got all stupid and told my friend I just had to go introduce myself to him. When I did, he was a complete jerk. All I'd said was that I really liked watching him pitch and he was my favorite player. He just scoffed at me and said, "Of course I am." So I just turned up my nose, said, "Forget it" and walked away. Well, his wife must've said something to him because he started calling me back. He called me by name even though I hadn't told them my name. Anyway, I walked back to them and they invited us to a party where some of the other players (and wives/ girlfriends presumably) would be. My friend and I went. I was telling her that he hadn't actually apologized, but that must've been his way of apologizing. That's pretty much all I remember (except he wasn't a jerk to me anymore). Odd, huh?

What do you think of that?