Why people shouldn't look to dreams for meaning

I slept in this morning. It's usually when I sleep in that I have the most bizarre dreams. Today was no exception.

Dream number 1.

I overheard a conversation between Haley Barbour, the governor of Mississippi, and Marilyn, my friend from California. Governor Barbour was breaking up with Marilyn. Yes, they're married. To other people.

Dream number 2.

(First, a little background. Many of the guys that I crushed on or "went with" in highschool are gay, because apparently my gaydar developed at a rate directly inverse to my boobs. First boyfriend? Check. The guy I crushed on in 9th grade? Check. The guy I almost asked to prom but chickened out? Check. Throughout 11th and 12th grade, my big crush was a friend named Ryan. BIG crush. He was the Jake Ryan to my Samantha Baker, except he had a Honda instead of a Porsche 944, and we never kissed over a birthday cake. I just recently reconnected with Ryan through myspace, and he has no clues on his profile nor in the message he's sent to me that suggest he's gay, and he definitely loved the ladies in highschool, so I'm holding out hope that I had some gaydar by the time I was 16. We'll see. Back to the dream.)

I went to Ryan's dorm room. I found him wearing makeup and shaving his legs. I asked what he was doing, and he said he was getting ready for a drag show, and if I wanted to go. Why, of course I do. Drag shows, good times. He went into the restroom. I sat down on his bed and started watching TV, waiting for him to finish getting ready. Rob walked in, used the 2nd restroom, waved to me, and walked back out. (Nice cameo, Kahunah!) Ryan came out from the restroom, dressed most assuredly like a man, said he didn't want to go to the drag show anymore, just wanted to go to a club, and asked if I was ready. We walked into the club holding hands, because while married, I see no impropriety in holding hands with a gay man. It was when he started introducing me to people as his girlfriend that I got a wee uncomfortable.

What about my future could I suspect from those dreams? What is hiding in my subconscious, other than embarassment about my lack of gaydar, that would cause such dreams?

I think I should just wake up at 7 and call it a day. No more sleeping in.