can't stand ya

Last night I dreamt that I was helping George Costanza with his Manhattan apartment hunt. Specifically, I went with him to check out a $1050/month studio broker apartment in my neighborhood with a private balcony and an impossible woodsy view of a Chapel Hill, NC forest. The balcony and view were amazing, but the apartment and the rest of the apartment building were a touch delapidated, which explained the low price but still seemed unusual because of the location and private balconies.

The whole time I was thinking in the back of my head how I was going to feel with George being in my neighborhood. It would mean we would become better friends and I would get scooped up into the Seinfeld clan, which would be pretty neat, I thought, since I had enjoyed their company when they were on television. But then I gave it further thought, and it occurred to me that I probably wouldn't really get along with that group. And George would probably grow extremely annoying extremely quickly.

I can't believe how ridiculous I am. Now, in my waking life, I'm actually kind of bummed at the realization that I wouldn't like Seinfeld and his fictitious buddies. For this bizarre blurring of my boundaries between fiction and reality, I blame TBS.com, which has full episodes online for me to listen to while I mutter and putter around my apartment.