RobDream (or, what happens when you have two plates of nachos and half a bottle of petite sirah before bed)

I have discovered that one of the reasons I'm ill-suited for blogging is that I blog in adverse proportion to the amount of Rob News happening. In other words, when there are dozens of new interviews to watch and read, and hundreds of new Rob pics to lick and save, I don't seem to find the time to actually blog about any of it. Between Twitter, email and that pesky thing they call a "job," I managed to neglect my little corner of cyberspace most shamefully.

After recovering from the whirlwind press junket for Remember Me, I have had time to breathe and collect my thoughts. My main conclusions about the whole ordeal are:

A) Rob never changes.

Yes, he's become a bit more polished and has mastered the art of evading tricky questions even better than before.  But at the heart of it all is still the same adorable, self-effacing, humble, quirky and funny Rob we've all come to "know" and love.  He will still blurt out comments about modesty "band-aids" fastened up his "arse crack" with wig tape, and good-naturedly cling to a tree in order to finally make one of Jimmy Fallon's "Robert is Bothered" skits truly funny.

Hi there, tushy!

Above all, Rob seems deliriously happy about his life right now, as he should be.  He's doing a job he loves, and the most-beloved people in his life were there to support him as he promotes his First Big Film Outside Twilight.  Happy Rob makes me happy.  Just look at that face.  (The rest is good too)

B.  The non-Robsessed of the world gravely underestimated him.

I wrote the following to a good friend of mine on March 12, 2009 (serendipitous date, eh?):

I'm really interested to see how he will evolve as all these Twilight movies are made. Part of me fears the "curse" that the GQ interview brings up, of being typecast to the point that no one can think of Rob as anyone other than Edward; but mostly I really believe that if he wants to, he can be the next Johnny Depp or Leonardo DiCaprio who can rise above his most renowned role and go on to do good, respected work. I don't think he realizes how talented he is. It'll be fun watching him come into his own.

Seriously, anyone who has taken a look at Little Ashes, The Haunted Airman or even How To Be knows that Rob can act, and he has great potential.  He has moments of brilliance in each one of those films.  I've never doubted that Rob would be huge, and that he would be taken seriously as an artist.  Occasionally I've worried that the world at large wouldn't want to see it, but I never doubted he had it in him. 
 
That's why it's been so smugly satisfying to see every single interviewer this week immediately tell Rob how good he is in Remember Me.  Sure, they gave him some good-natured ribbing, and the ladies of the View did their usual cougar schtick on the poor boy, but the first thing they did when Rob sat down was tell him what a good performance he gave in Remember Me.  When you get comedians and powerhouse journalists giving you serious, heartfelt compliments about your work, you are definitely doing something right.   The Dean and even Brando comparisons are running rampant.  All I can say is, Rob, You Have Arrived. 
 

 
*sniff* I feel like a proud mama!




C. Rob still wears fug clothes.
 

Ripped jackets, stained t-shirts, raggedy jeans (what's with the cuffs, Rob?  If this is a new fashion statement, me no likey.)  And then there's the lemon-yellow eyesore at left.  Hey, I love the Stones like everyone else does.  But, Rob, please tell me you borrowed that t-shirt from TomStu.  TomStu, of the navy sweater with hearts and flowers on it.  Tom may be adorable, but borrowing clothes from him should be verboten.
 
Speaking of fug clothes on Rob, that brings me to the weird dream I had the other night.  All the Robactivity going on this week apparently did a number on my subconscious, because I finally had a very strange and somewhat titillating dream about Rob the night before last.  I very nearly wrote it down when I woke up, because it was so vivid, and so odd.  But it was early so I went over the details carefully in my mind before I went back to sleep, hoping it would continue where it left off.  Of course that didn't happen.
 
The Strange Rob Dream, as told to my friends of the Rob Email Chain Gang:
 
For some reason, I seemed to be Rob and/or Kristen's "minder" in this dream, because all I remember is that I was in their hotel room, packing stuff up in a suitcase and telling them that they needed to get their shit together because it was time to leave. (I don't know where we were or where we were going.) They were both sitting around lazily looking at me like "whatever" while I was packing. (And it seemed I was packing my own stuff, which makes no sense, because what would my stuff be doing in their room? LOL)

Anyway, they ignored me and crawled back in bed, with their clothes on, like they were going to go take a nap instead. Kristen said something about me staying instead of leaving so I could pick up a guy. LOL She was mumbling and I couldn't really hear what she was saying in the dream...just something about me trying to meet a man! Then all of sudden Rob sat up and said, "Should I walk you to the elevator?"

I told him that wasn't necessary, but he got up and followed me out the door. (And BTW, he was wearing this very odd short-sleeved black dress shirt with gold paisley-ish insignias all over it and these weird beige jeans. Totally fug. Except he looked incredibly hot because he had the VF 2008 blonde-streaked wild hair going on in my dream!----->) Instead of being in a normal hotel hallway, we were suddenly in this very fancy lobby-type area, waiting for an elevator. We didn't have to wait at all (I guess in dreams, elevator doors are automatically on your floor, opening the instant you need them!) and when I got in the elevator, Rob followed me in.

I went to the back of the elevator and set my suitcase-on-wheels against the wall, then turned to face the doors. Rob was walking toward me, then he stopped about a foot away. He just looked at me a minute, and then he took another step closer so he was right in my face, with his chin against my forehead and his leg against mine...his body was right up against me, and I could feel everywhere it was touching mine. Definitely invading my personal space. >:) Then he asked me, "Do you like how this feels?"

O. M. G.   O.o    I answered, "What if I said 'yes'?"

And he replied, "Then I'd kiss you."

AAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!! So just when he's leaning in for the kiss, there's a noise behind us.... some random chick had followed us into the elevator! (No, it wasn't Kristen.) So Rob stepped away from me and we rode down to the main floor, me inwardly cursing this chick like crazy. Then when the elevator doors opened up, it was suddenly like we were in a film, and Rob was shooting a scene. He ran out of the elevator and into the street, where he was supposed to be pretending to save some chick from getting hit by a car or something. Jude Law was there, too, and a film crew was going and everything. And then I FUCKING WOKE UP.

So I had basically cockblocked my own self in the dream and then my brain turned it into an action flick so I'd have no chance of Rob coming back to finish the romantic stuff he was starting. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY SUB-CONSCIOUS?????

In thinking back on this, I realize that my stupid conscience wouldn't let me borrow Kristen's boyfriend for even one lousy bout of elevator nookie!  I mean, she even told me to go find my own man in the dream, ha!  Rob seemed perfectly willing, but I couldn't go through with it.  Why couldn't I be a shameless hoor for just one night?  But there you have it.  Disgustingly moral, even while asleep.
Off to polish my halo, tighten my rusty chastity belt and re-read Rev. Moron's sermon from a few weeks ago.  It is Sunday, after all.  Amen and God bless Robert Pattinson for bringing joy (and ruined panties) to so many people.