I just woke up from one of the strangest dreams I've had in quite a while. I don't always remember my dreams, but when I do, they're technicolor oddities that could give Dr. Freud material for years. I can probably blame the Tylenol Cold PM for this.
You know that loud guy with a white buzzcut, lots of jewelry and bad taste in food who has some sort of junkfood show on the Food Network? For reasons unknown, he was ice skating in my dream wearing a very unflattering pair of cut-off shorts. Really, I don't have a clue either. And then I was driving a car in Paris with my grandmother in the backseat, and we were driving to a hotel, but I couldn't understand what my grandmother was saying because she was speaking in Yiddish. In my dream I knew it was Paris, but it looked like my parent's neighborhood in New York. Ice-skating guy made a reappearance, and then we went into the Paris Ritz, (so not where I hang out in Paris!) where I got lost and opened doors for a while. There were some dogs around, too. Yes, in the Ritz. Must have been Paris, right? *grin* I then played my guitar.
Seriously, my dreamlife is far more entertaining than my real one. Hope Grandma enjoyed the Ritz.