I dreamt I was home alone, eating dinner in my pajamas on the living room couch, and watching a video about YA author John Green. (I don't normally do all of that at the same time, just so we're clear.) And then all of a sudden I looked over at the side window, and there was John Green himself, peeking inside. I freaked out and tried to make myself as small as possible to hide (not because the thought of John Green is terrifying, but more because — well, I *was* in my pajamas, and he *was* peering through my window). He started to leave, but kept turning around to squint at my window, like he thought he'd seen someone inside.
Finally I thought he gave up and I got up to go to the kitchen or something, and then when I turned around - BAM! there he was in my living room.
I jumped, startled, and then uttered the most eloquent, "Hi," to which he responded, "Hi." I believe I then said something along the witty lines of, "You're John Green," to which he replied, "Yes, I am." Oddly enough he didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that the TV screen was paused on a video of him.
At this point I think my subconscious realized how absurd it was that John Green was standing in my living room, so I went, "You're not really here, I'm just imagining you." Then he went, "No, I'm really here," but I continued to say, "No way, you're not really here in my living room." He seemed to get a bit miffed about it and repeated, "Yes, I am!" and then went back to the side window and started crawling through it to prove how he got in. He got a little bit stuck for a minute but eventually made it through, and I saw outside that there was some kind of van out there waiting for him (it was kind of like a cross between a VW bus and an ice cream truck). He must have hopped in and then I shouted "Go nerdfighters!" with a little fist pump, and everyone in the bus cheered.
|Unfortunately the bus-truck in my dream was not nearly this colourful, and more to the point was not selling ice cream.|
|Kind of like this.|
I knew in my dream that he was touring around, trying to raise money (not sure for what) and promote a book release of his in China, and he was doing these "random acts of kindness" along the way. He had a whole team with him to help — after he entered my window, people had come and cleaned up his footprints really quickly so you couldn't tell how he got in.
When my family came back home, my mom and sister absolutely loved the ice sculptures, but my dad was far more concerned (irate, even!) about the fact that someone had broken into the house.
And that was the end of my dream involving John Green. I can figure out where some of the pieces came from — I think my subconscious wants to make sure I get an autographed copy of his next book, The Fault in Our Stars, and I have a friend planning a trip to China. Not too sure what was up with the ice sculptures, although maybe my brain registered I was feverish and thought up something to try to cool me down.
Anyway, as awesome as it would be to have you visit, John — please don't crawl through my window. Knocking at the door like everyone else would suit me just fine.