What the hell is this?

I Can't Stand [Meeting] You is a collection of all the ridiculous things I've written to and about drummer and composer Stewart Copeland.

I actually did meet him for about five crazy seconds in 2007, again for a few exciting moments in August 2009, and my most recent (and most thrilling!) encounter took place in October 2009, where I proved myself capable of being, yet again, a total dork in the man's presence.

I can't believe what I get up to. And neither should you.

Sunday, February 4, 2007

My dream of Stewart Copeland

Last night I attended the cast party for the Three By Mee shows we've done at City Garage. It was a lovely party, and you can tell I'd had a lot to drink because I had my arm companionably around a young actor I don't know very well, Ken. It was a nice party. Once I got home and to bed, I had this funny dream about Stewart Copeland:

I was still at the party, which was held at the director's home. It's a beautiful house in Venice. But instead of being night (or morning, considering the time I left), the party was during the day. I was sitting in the living room with the five people I'd been sitting with in the living room in real life at the end of the party, when Stewart Copeland arrived. He walked in just like he belonged there.

Stewart was wearing a baby blue short sleeved button-down shirt, and white jeans. I assume he was wearing shoes and certainly underclothes, but the scope of my x-ray vision, even in dreams, is still pretty minimal. He may also have been wearing a hat. He had this crazy thing in his ear. It was the size of a hearing aid. It was the same color as a hearing aid, that kind of sickly flesh color. Extending out of his hearing aid was a small extension cord - you know, with sockets to plug something in. It was just hanging there, not really plugged into anything, but ready, in case he needed to be plugged in. It was a weird detail that never played out into any of the following action.

For some reason, when he entered the house, everyone else left the room, and we were alone.

I was totally nervous. It's so reassuring to find that even in my dreams I am shy and goofy around good-looking men.

I talked with him, but it was awkward. I said, "I know what you can help me with!" And magically, Patrick's drums are in the room. I said, "Patrick would love it if you would re-tune his drums for him!"

So he did.

And I then woke up.

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