So strange. I had a dream just before I woke up that has had me moony and spacey all day long.
Shut up. I know it's nothing new. But this was so real! And it was about a real person, too. His name is... oh, God. I can't remember what his name is, but he went to Humber for journalism (class '97) along with me. He's really, really tall, with curly hair and a big smile and if I'm not mistaken, he lived out in the east end. He taught me the value of Tom Clancy novels. (What? You didn't think your Mare only indulged in Harlequin trash, did you? Nuh uh! I'm multi-layered like that! I'm not all about the bodice ripping and the milky white globes spilling out of horror corsets that causes hernias for the feisty heroine with flashing eyes. Tsk.) (Oh, alright. Five. I've read five Tom Clancy novels. But I read two of them twice! And that totally makes up for the 735 bodice-rippers I've read in my life time.)(In the last year.) Anyway, yeah, this guy. God, what was his name?! Truly, we got along so well while I was unconcious that though I've not seen, nor heard from or about him since April of '97, I'm thoroughly convinced that this is the man (name to be supplied at a later date) that I'm going to marry.
Also, the ceremony will have to take place while I'm sleeping. And the Queen will officiate.
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