My active imagination strikes again! Last night's dream came back to me in a rush as I made macaroni salad. I just shared it with Chris and Stephen, and now I'll share it with you!
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The ship's metal hull ran off into the distance, slicing through waves. I watched the sun whiten the surface of the water, and sighed. Here I was, on a ocean liner with my husband and a large group of peers, absolutely bored.
I was about to turn away from the view when I spotted a boat a ways off, a black dot against blue. It was barely close enough to make out, but it was definitely a party boat. The alluring idea of a party drew me in--I climbed over the side of the ocean liner and dived gracefully into the sea.
I swam until I reached the party boat, only to discover it was a VIP party/club. I was no Hollywood actress, but maybe I could get in some other way. A large black man with sunglasses approached me, towering over my head. Behind him, a dimly lit room throbbed with music.
"You can't go in yet."
That answer did not satisfy me. I decided to prove my qualification to join the other partiers, and started to dance.
After I busted some moves, the man made a broad welcoming gesture. "Aw, yeah, you can come in!"
Aw, yeah, indeed.
I was dancing my heart out in the club when a familiar voice hailed me. "Jaimie!"
It was Chris, threading through the crowd. Oh, no! Will he be mad that I ran off to party?
Our greeting was uneventful--that is, until another small, brunette woman like myself, with long, half-styled hair and a blue cotton dress, approached my hubby. She proceeded to blatantly flirt with him right in front of me--I seethed. Chris looked fairly baffled.
The woman started dancing--it was a club, after all--and continuing her flirtations, when I stepped in beside Chris and shot her a glare that could have set the boat on fire. It's on, woman.
I began to dance, too.
Why? Well, dear reader, what's the best way to decide whose turf a party is? A dance-off.
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Unfortunately, that's the end! I never found out who won the dance-off. I do know that when I woke up, I wasn't on a boat, I wasn't dancing, and best of all, Chris was still with me. :)
He later told me that if that actually happened, he would just say, "Psh. There's no way I'm going with you; my wife's way hotter." He made me happy. Then again, he always does.
That's awesome. Jaimie, you tell stories (and compete in crazy dance-offs in fun dreams). It's what you do.
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