I went to see Stardust last night. I’d originally planned on seeing Josh Groban at the Rose Garden Arena, but the cheapest tickets I could find were 60 bucks in the worst part of the acoustic section of the Coliseum. Scalper tickets were netting 200$ and although I think Josh Groban is totally worth 200$, I went instead to see Stardust.
It’s adorable. Evidently, what I didn’t know was that it’s also a date movie so I was the only single person there. I walked out happy and a little in love with the idea of bottled lightning and the fanciful adventure of true love.
Crawling in to bed last night, I admitted to myself, for perhaps the first time in at least two and a half years – I miss being in love.
I know, Sondra, I said it, I miss being in love. I was good at it.
Drifting off to sleep I hoped for a dream that would immerse me in some fantastical land of myth and magic and oh, maybe Jackles, so I could dream of love…
But somehow, I landed in a dream with Dan Aykroyd and F16 fighter jet and a remake dream of Top Gun wherein Dan Aykroyd sang Bette Midler’s version of ‘The Rose’.
Go figure. I knew I was rusty at this fantasize about love thing, but I had no idea I was that rusty.
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