I realize today's lil story is going to sound, er, slightly odd-- but bear with me because I'm nothing if not slightly OFF MY ROCKER. I'm also full of cheer and goodwill.

** One of the above statements is true. One of them is not. YOU GUESS.

My 'slightly odd' statement revolves around some recurring dreams I've had. Recurring for the past three nights. In a row.

It goes something like this:

I'm in a car, then a plane. The transition is very smooth in the way that only dreams could be. Because you and I and Corndog Bullwinkle know it's near impossible for any plane-train-automobile adventure to be referred to as "smooth." "Bearable" - maybe. "Horrific"- more likely. But smooth... how I could only dream. <--- Very bad pun.

This whole time, I'm looking at what I think is a man (faces very blurry, but he/she looks tall and I'm making a generic assumption due to the nature of what I can see in his head) and though the face is super blurry, I can see quite clearly INTO HIS HEAD. Not with super-man like powers, but with the ability that one has to see what cartoon characters are thinking because there are giant white bubbles above their head spilling every single one of their stupid thoughts into the cold uncaring universe. Only there's no stupid white bubble. It's like the bubble is INSIDE his head. Like I took an MRI printout and said "Oh, look, there's a picture of a horse. He must be thinking about horses." But in THIS CASE the man is thinking about a RING.
A sparkly till death do us part RING. After seeing the sparkly ring in his head, I see him flash through mental thought pictures. I see him and another blurry-faced person on a couch together, watching movies. I see them holding a baby above their heads together. I see them sitting on a rocker looking old and decrepit together. Only, ONLY, he's sad about something. At this point in the dream I'm curious about why he's sad so I make myself into a fairy and I fly in his ear.

CUT ME SOME SLACK IT'S A DREAM.

Once I'm a fairy and I've flown in his ear we have some thought-picture conversations. I wish I could tell you what these thought-picture conversations were about, but I can't. It's like I read that part of my dream in a book. "They had thought-picture conversations." But the book doesn't tell you what they were about, only that they had them. Very annoying if you ask me. No idea how THAT author got published. Gah. <---making very Napoleon type sound.
So the next thing I know, I'm looking at some weird body of water. It's very calm, so I'm thinking lake. Though there's a very big beach, so it could be an ocean. Not that lakes don't have beaches, too. But here in Arkie-saw, lakes substitute pretty sandy beaches for mossy, swampy areas that are inhabited by the nation's largest icky amphibians. So them I'm in a house and there's all kinds of people around. Blurry faces, natch. GOD FORBID I GET A DIRECT CLUE. And then I see the airplane blurry guy and he's standing in the middle of a room next to blurry girl and then WHAM! He falls in a big deep pit. A big deep pit that not THREE SECONDS BEFORE was nowhere to be seen. Just swallowed whole. The blurry face people look around and seem to shrug, then go on about their merriment.

Uh. Yeah. Then I wake up.