Queen's Roll Sushi and Plum Tart

What does my university crest have to do with this post? You'll see.

I'm an excellent dreamer. I generally remember my dreams in all their technicolor oddness for days, they are that good. I also like to take note of the previous night's meal, in case I ever need to reproduce the effect. Hence the title -- a Queen's roll from Carytown Sushi (shrimp tempura inside, spicy tuna outside) and a plum tart from Jean-Jacques. I felt like going multi-continental for dinner.

So, I went to bed around 1 a.m. and read a chapter of Stiff (there were no cadavers in my dream - YAY!). Turned off the lights and fell asleep without much to do. And this is what happened.....

* * * * *

I had just arrived at a hotel and was going to my room while a friend (female, but not recognizable) was explaining to me that my boyfriend (no name given) was already there and had been explaining how we had broken up on our trip. I was surprised and then saddened that he was telling people and wondered if I had made a mistake by going through with the break up. Suddenly, we were in the room with our other friends, and my ex-boyfriend (blond, not very tall, indistinct features) was chatting with some girl. Everybody froze when I came into the room. I said hello, hugged everybody and then we all sat/lay down on the beds to chat. I grabbed a single bed and motioned to my boyfriend to join me. He hesitated as the other girl was watching him, but he did lie down next to me while we talked.

We had been away for a week or so, it seems, and had a good time although it rained. After a decent interval of spooning, I asked my ex-boyfriend to come back to my room for a minute and we left. I told him that I wasn't sure that we had made the right decision and he said that yes, we had, and we could still be friends. At this point, as sometimes happens in my dreams, he began to morph into somebody else. He was still my boyfriend, but now he looked like Eric from Big Brother 8. This was not a happy turn of events as I find Eric really annoying. So, after taking a good look at the now non-appealing boyfriend, I said, I'm happy we broke up and he left.

Next, I'm on my way to the pool with same female friend as we have time for a dip before the big dinner party. We are wearing towels and pajama bottoms. My towel is yellow and my pajama bottoms are light blue, if it matters. There are two pools, one empty and one with some kids in it. The pool with the kids in it is warmer so we decide to get in that one. [Ewww -- in retrospect, it sounds mighty suspicious that the kid's pool is warmer.] Then, we realize that while everyone is topless, they are still wearing bathing suit bottoms -- of which we have none. My friend and I look at each other and grin -- we'll be in the water before anyone notices our total nakedness. Or so we think. She shucks her clothes and jumps in while I'm looking for a place to leave my clothes so they won't get splashed. I take off my towel and walk back to the pool and sit down at the edge to take off my pajama bottoms. Which is when I realize that Dustin Hoffman is sitting on a deck chair across the pool and is watching me with great interest. I give him a big smile, kick my legs up in the air, and pull off my pajama bottoms with flair. Only to find there is a white pair on underneath. I repeat the maneuver. Dustin is grinning happily by now. I slide into the water feeling slightly silly, but pleased that I gave Dustin a quick thrill.

I swim around until we realize that it is time to go get ready for dinner. I climb out of the pool and am toweling off when I notice that I have a tattoo of the University of Toronto crest on my upper right thigh and I don't know how it got there.

Conveniently, there is a tattoo parlour on the way back to my room so I stop in to ask if they can tell when I had it done. They look at it and determine it is about a week old -- which means that it happened on my vacation! I go to my ex-boyfriend's room and ask him, "How the hell did I get a tattoo of my university crest on my upper thigh?"

His eyes widen and he says, "You don't remember? I can't believe you don't remember!"

And that's when I wake up.

* * * * *

Which is the problem with dreams -- you don't get to choose the ending.

However, on the plus side, dream Jamie got to have a nice vacation with enough alcohol to forget she got a tattoo, flash Dustin Hoffman, and have a boyfriend, albeit briefly. Although frankly, a boyfriend who would let me get my university crest tattooed in a large 4" by 2" oval on my upper thigh clearly does not have my best interests at heart.

The Rev told me once that some people believe that if you tell your dreams out loud before you have breakfast, the dreams will come true. I chickened out and ate my rice krispies halfway though typing this post. As proud as I am of my alma mater, I'm not wearing the tree of knowledge on my thigh permanently. And the beaver just seems redundant.

Tell your single friends -- JamieSmitten's a dreamer!

XOXO