Lately I’ve been trying to create that air of mystery associated with women of a certain age. I’ve actually been trying for years but I can’t quite get it so I’ve decided the only way is to stop telling people embarrassing stuff about myself. No more blogging is number one on my list of New Year’s resolutions. Number two is stop telling people what I just ate and number three is stop reenacting my dreams in excruciating detail, particularly when they involve celebrities. But last night I dreamt I punched Jerry Seinfeld in the chest and I’m not about to keep that to myself.

Let me reenact it for you.

It’s late at night in some hotel lounge and I’m standing near the bar with a friend laughing hysterically while waiting for Jerry Seinfeld to come over to buy us each a drink. Since he doesn’t come over right away-- because he doesn’t know us-- I come up with a clever idea to get his attention---I’ll race around the room and accidentally crash right into him! I’ll apologize and he’ll say, “Oh, no, don’t be silly, it was my fault. Let’s have a drink together and forget about it.”

My friend likes my idea so I start running. As I’m going around in circles, trying to time it just right, suddenly there he is. But as soon as I come face-to-face with him, much to my surprise, I punch him. Not like a hard punch across the face or anything, it’s more like a playful, best-friendsy, punch on the chest.

It gets worse.

He yells out, “Do not touch me.”

You’d think that would bother me, but it doesn’t. I think it’s funny, and I look back at my friend to see if she thinks it’s funny too, and now we both can’t stop laughing because I hit someone.

At this point in the dream, I sort of realize I’m not acting right, but I’m in too deep to be embarrassed.So then, while I’m still laughing to the point that I’m making such ugly faces, it looks like I’m crying, I wait until I know Jerry Seinfeld is in the Jacuzzi so I can sneak up on him. While he’s in there quietly talking to his friends, I go and get a little handful of crushed cereal and sneakily put it in the water behind him. And then my friend and I nearly pass out laughing over it back at the bar.

I know.

The thing is in real life if I did run into Jerry Seinfeld in a hotel, I’m more the type to turn my head and pretend I didn’t see him. That’s what I did when I found myself sitting next to Ashton Kutcher at Kim’s summer camp. Kim was there the same year as Rumor, so Demi and Ashton were visiting and they got into the same van that Dan and I were sitting in. When I first realized it was them, I pinched Dan’s thigh and then I looked right at Ashton, put my nose in the air and turned my head. No reason. I just wanted him to think I didn’t like him. And the funny thing is I love him. So much so that I would put a poster of him on my wall right now.

That’s why the dream confused me at first, but I soon realized that my subconscious is simply making up for the fact that I’m trying to be more reserved during my wakeful hours. It makes perfect sense. Eventually it will all balance out and I will emerge into a woman of serious intrigue with little need to reveal things about herself simply because she can’t keep a secret. Until then I will simply have to ignore my impulses.

Okay, fine. One more. . .I once wrote a letter to David Sedaris.