Stranger than Fiction.

I've been having strange dreams lately. And I mean STRANGE. Is it the Christmas candy? The quesadillas I made for dinner? (Cheddar cheese, hello!)

I'm just not sure. But I have had a strange dream literally every night for about two weeks. But last night's dream? Strange, but AWESOME.

If any of you have been watching Eleventh Hour on TV like I have (yes, I know it's chees-ey and really tests your intelligence sometimes with its leaps and non-realistic plotlines--but I just watch it because I adore Rufus Sewell) you will know the relationship of Dr. Jacob Hood and his FBI-trained handler, Rachel. Well, we watched our DVR'd weekly Eleventh Hour last night, and I proceeded to have the following dream:

Dr. Hood and I (I was playing the part of Rachel) ended up at a University to find a drug smuggler. I happened to know this was the particular university an ex-boyfriend of mine was attending, so I was a little nervous to see him again. (In reality, he broke my heart in 1992--and he would be 37 years old today, but yes, he was still attending college in my dream). Let's call him "Bozo." I won't use his real name. And yes, I'm still a little bitter. Maybe because I've never gotten true closure.

ANYWAY, Dr. Hood knew of my trepidation over running into "Bozo" and just to be funny, he tripped a fire alarm on purpose, so all the students would have to troop sleepily out of the dorms in the middle of the night. And lo and behold, there was "Bozo," looking just as young as the day he dumped me...for a petite, perfect blonde freshman. (And tragically for me, her apartment was just across and to the left of mine--I had a clear view of her front door, and so for an entire two semesters I had no choice but to watch him go to her apartment every day, and watch the two of them date and fall in love and get engaged. Yeah, they got married too. It was a very low point of my life. Although I WILL say, I couldn't eat anything for about six months, so I lost a LOT of weight. So, a small perk. But I digress...)

ANYWAY, Bozo saw me and I tried to look all aloof and professional, but he gaped at me and I rolled my eyes and Dr. Hood appeared and told me I needed to search Bozo's dorm room. So I did. And I found lots of drugs, in his roommate's drawer. BUSTED.

Anyway, Bozo struck up a conversation with me after they cuffed and hauled his roommate away, and told me he was happily married with eight (Yes, EIGHT) kids. I looked at him, and realized that he was in NO WAY near as good looking as the man I married, (Bozo was too buff, with hair like a brillo pad, etc.) and I told him I had four kids and I was happily married and he congratulated me and walked back into his room.

And we were done. And I felt like I had some closure. Who knows if Bozo actually has eight kids, I really don't care anymore, because he got to see that I was truly over him. I think after last night's dream, after 16 years, I finally am? Maybe now I can go trash the box of 104 letters and countless pictures he sent me every week for the two years he served a mission--as I WAITED FOR HIM. Yeah, you're starting to put the whole story together, aren't you?

Strange dream, but nice.

Anyone care to intrepret THAT one? I believe it was pretty obvious.

;-)

We are supposed to get lots more snow today. I ran to the store and dry cleaners early this morning, and the flakes started coming down just as I was driving home. Now I'm going to hang out at home and just decorate and play with my cute chubby little buddy. Except the whole "touching the Christmas tree every chance he gets" bit. I am not so fond of that one...