Last night, I had a dream that Rihanna wanted me to be one of her back-up dancers.
I had no idea how, or why. I don't even listen to her music that much. (Although I am COMPLETELY in love with her song "Cheers" as it was my recent away-weekend "Fuck the world, I'm outta here" song.)
So, it was just me, her, and about 10 of her gorgeous back-up dancers. I was the only white-chick, and I was the heaviest one there. I kept thinking "How did I get here? Why am I here right now???" But she kept talking to me. I think I made her laugh. That helped.
Anyway, we were in some huge arena and the lights went down. The crowd went CRAZY. And that our cue. It was time.
Rihanna was on-stage, singing a very soft, borderline seductive song. Our job was to walkalong the outskirts of the crowd and make eye-contact with as many people as we could, "seducing " them. It was basically one giant cocktease with a side of innocence.
In the back of my mind, I kept thinking, "Is she sure she wants me out there? I don't fit in with all these other girls."
And I didn't. These girls were GORGEOUS. Tall, lean, sexy.....they all wore high heels and black lingerie and paraded through the coliseum like runway models in Milan.
And then there was me. Wearing a pink terry-cloth robe, and a towel on my head.
Jesus. Even my subconscious is self-conscious.
