I'm a huge fan of dreaming. I do it every night and I remember most of the details of every one. I also dream in color, so whoever said people don't dream in color is a moron. Moving on.
I don't share most of my dreams, there would be too many and they usually make more sense in our heads than they do when we try and verbalize them. This one, however, is a true gem. Feast your eyes:
I found a way to get Ryan Buell in Ft. Lauderdale, more specifically, my house. The details of how I did this are the part I can't remember, but I'm going to assume that I somehow used Alan as an excuse, as he's a skeptic and Ryan hunts ghosts. Friggen perfect, because now I can turn on my charm and get a few dates, or at least a run in the sack. The only problem? I failed to remove the hand-made mobile dangling from my bedroom ceiling that boldly displayed "Alicia <3 Ryan." (note: said mobile does NOT exist, there is no Ryan merch anywhere in my room unless you count his face on my desktop, cell phone and that dumb face-in-a-hole picture I created for fun located on my Facebook).
How could I have not taken that down?! Of course it ruined me, Ryan now knows that I'm a super fan (not to be confused with Sarafan) and he was angry! Before I knew it, he was kanoodling with another girl! Fury!
Moral of the story: Take down your Backstreet Boys, Hanson, Michael Phelps, Zac Efron, Michael Bublé (you get the point) pictures, posters and pathetic-grams because you never know when they'll end up in your bedroom. That goes for you, Allison.