Okay, I'm SO lying there.

No. Also, I didn't dream of people I knew in high school or dessicated corpses (which I think is a subconcious throw-back to my obsession with Egyptology as an older child -- hint: don't read books about mummification, complete with pictures, right before bed when you're in the fifth grade. Nothing good comes of it. Well, unless insomnia is your goal, that is.)

What DID I dream about?

I dreamt about dancing.
It could do with my adoration of "Dancing with the Stars", which I haven't really watched since the first season (since it's now in the same time slot as House, which is a travesty in and of itself, but I digress ... ).
But, in my dream, I was (much thinner and had the long hair I had in my sophomore year of high school and) wearing a lovely, yet scandalously low-cut black dress.
There was a sensual dance ... maybe a samba? I'm not an expert on ballroom or Latin dances. And later, a most excellent tango with an older dance instructor (who may or may not have been gay, so it wasn't weird to be dancing with a man older than my father ... with distiguished, short gray hair).

Yeah. So I obviously have desirings to get out there and shake my groove thing ... or at least be directed around the dance floor and feel like a female fatale ... as opposed to "Muhmuhmuhmuh ... Waaaaaaaahhh!!!!!" (not that I don't live the munchkins. I SO do ... I just have the mother-hat on just about all the time. Except for a few minutes when Michael and I can get them both asleep at the same time and steal some precious seconds/minutes/hours for the two of us to be a married couple/friends/adults together.)

I still am preening from a compliment our friend, Trevor, gave me about two years ago (it was prepregnancy anyways) at a church dance. He told me that I follow his lead very well. And since he's on the ballroom dance team at the local college, I'm very flattered by him saying that.
Just like I'm still flattered that one of my friends, a high-school teacher, told me that she shares some of my writing (usually in emails or the occasional newsletter about the munchkin brigade) with her class to demonstrate good writing in a non-professional arena. Since she's an English teacher, I'm feeling the love.
Or how one of my high-school teachers put in my letter of recommendation that I have "the heart of a poet."
Or how my Bri-bri always flatters me to the point that, if she adores me any more, my head will explode. ^_^

But, thinking back, I'd really like to take some dance classes with Michael. Not that my munchkins aren't good dancers ... it's just very hard to feel alluring while dancing with your hair pulled back for the sole reason to keep it our of your daughter's less-than-gentle grasp and when you have to do all the dipping and none of the being dipped ... Not that there's anything wrong with that!!

Maybe I just should invest in some more of those Regency romances. And grove to Fergie's "London Bridge" some more.

And now I hear the clarion call of the dulcet cries of my dear, sweet daughter. Toddle-oo!

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My mood right now is:

Crazy loud - 2006-10-30
Temple and not writing much - 2006-10-29
Maybe it's just me ... - 2006-10-26
In my dreams, I'm pretty hot ... if I do say so myself. - 2006-10-25
I'm gonna kick the croup outta you!! - 2006-10-23

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