From Mrs. Zac Efron

I had a dream last night that I married Zac Efron and moved him into my Brooklyn apartment.

Yes, I realize he's, like, 20, and no, I've never really thought about him twice before. (I could actually be his mother, if I had gotten knocked up as a preteen.) (Okay, fine—teen.) I have no idea why I had this dream; it was the strangest thing, really.

Anyway, in my dream, after we had been married for, like, a day, I realized he was gay. Like, after I was already in bed, he'd go out with his "friends" and not come home until the early morn. Also, he really liked doing laundry and ironing and the such.

But here's what's interesting... Even though we were married and I was hurt by the fact that he didn't love me, I tried to cover it up because I didn't want him to be ridiculed by the media.

So here's what I'm thinking... I'm pretty sure this dream was triggered by some piece of gossip I read about him, but I think it had to do more with how I look at myself than my feelings for Zac Efron.

Sometimes I want to scoop up all the celebs hunted and attacked by the media and protect them like a mother hen. This goes for Britney (she's never going to get the help she needs unless people leave her alone), Tom Cruise (so he's bananas for a religion that most of us think is whack—he's done more good for this world than most people have; let him believe what he wants to believe), and now, apparently, poor little Zac Efron. Why do gossip sites speculate about his sexuality and ridicule him for not coming out of the closet if, in fact, he is gay? He might not know how to deal with it yet; he's still so immature. And wait—he might not even be gay. Whatever... leave him alone.

I feel bad for writing this post because I feel like I've contributed to the gossip. Maybe I have, but I had a bigger message to share.

BTW, despite my feelings about picking on celebs, I fully reserve the right to gossip about the "Rock of Love" chicks.