Dreams and stuff

Last night's dream: I was visiting the in-laws, who had moved to a luxury Upper West Side apartment (in NYC).

In her usual decorating style, MIL had nailed some stuff to the wall. She's a very tactful lady and tactful decorator, but in her past two houses (in real life) she's nailed a group of antique kitchen tools to the wall.

In the dream, I had a nice breakfast in their formal dining room. They had a large, mammy-like maid who sitting across the table from me. The sunlight was warm and streaming through the lovely, old window.

The maid kept holding large pieces of beautiful paper to the light, commenting that it was her father's trademark style. Apparently, he was famous for his handmade paper.

The sunlight inspired a bike ride, so I abruptly ended the conversation and scooted my chair to get up to leave. I got up quickly, awkwardly, and ran into the MIL's antique pocketwatch collection that was hanging by little nails. Quite a flimsy application.

Quickly, I smooshed against the wall in an attempt to brace the watches between my body and the wall and keep them from falling. MIL rushed in the room to assist in the rescue effort. She assured me that it happened all the time and she needs to figure out a new location for the watches.

Following that debacle, I left their lovely building and started walking around NYC. The only problem was that I didn't have my bike and I really wanted to ride my bike.

Eventually, I ended up at this lovely outdoor patio of a ritzy yet laid back restaurant/bar. It was a magical place where people were wearing gauzy outfits and there was even a sfumato that wasn't due to foggy glasses.

I saw my buddy Sarah, who called last week and I haven't called back. She was happy to see me and we chilled out at the pristine bar where everyone looked beautiful and there were stepping stones surrounded by the greenest moss.

Other Randome Thoughtees of the Dayyy: Tis fun to find a "secret" blog of someone you know. Tis much fun. Amazingly, this person bitches about their work. Big time. Like they could be so fired if someone found out. What's even stranger is that a quick Google search (yes, I blogged this person's name - so shoot me) revealed this person's blog. Doh.