Somehow, this didn't ever get published. Weird.
But it's from the middle of March.
Which I WAS going to say was last month.
HAHAHAHAHAHAAaaaaaaaaaaa ... Seriously, it's already June? What?
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So, my dreams last night were ... special.
(Knowing me, what would you expect, right?)
In the first part, Michael, the kids and I were taking a drive in the country. We wanted to go to a swimming hole ... and it was an area that we didn't know.
He found a house that looked as if it'd have creekfront-type property and pulled over.
We had a plan, since there was a party happening: Michael and I would crash the party and exit out of the back of the house, meeting the kids in the backyard, where we'd make our way to the water to swim.
Of course, we didn't have swimsuits, so we'd just be wading ... but, still ...
Now, when Michael and I went in, we found that it was a costume-reunion with a lot of the popular kids from my high school. And the theme was the 80s.
There was crimped hair, neon sunglasses, all that stuff. Lots of the people there were dressed like their pictures back in the 80s, which were projected onto a wall in a slideshow.
Michael, somehow, had an outfit that fit in well enough without screaming "I *heart* the 80s" ... I was wearing a blazer over a white tee and jeans, though ... when people asked me what I was, I screeched out, "I'M A VJ!!" (Yeah, my subconscious obvs loves her some MTV, when it played music ... and Daria. And Road Rules, too. I enjoyed that one. And Aeon Flux, even though I don't understand that one at all.)
But, yeah, we made out way through the place to the back outside, through a side exit off the kitchen (which really reminded me, come to think of it, of the old Methodist church that I attended as a little child. No, really, it's a historic building. And Mom converted from Methodism when I was three ... so, yeah. But my grandfolks were still Methodists, so I have more than a passing familiarity with the building as I grew up). We met up with the kids and rolled up our pant legs to get in the water.
THEN Michael and I (no idea where the kids are in this part) are headed to ... um ... help cater some party?
It's at an even bigger white historic-type house.
And the people who live there are black. Maybe mixed race ... but, um, they won't let us use the front door.
No biggie. Apparently, I handle reverse-racism well enough. I was just sad that, since we seemed to get along, that the lady wouldn't be my friend.
Oh well! Her loss ... because, well, I'm a pretty good friend.
Even if I suck at calling people or being social ... but I'm GREAT at keeping in touch via the interwebs ... So ... yeah.
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