389. Dentists and Sunshine.

I had one of those anxiety dreams last night. Involved me missing trains to get out of Paris to catch a plane back home. (As if that would be bad! In real-life I would probably take it as an omen to stay and live in Paris.) The dream also involved a dentist office run by circus clowns. I was their patient! They put me ugly veneers, made out of clear glass.

OK. Now that I think about it, I shouldn't have been so anxious. What a hilarious dream!

The odd dreams also involved two real life people I met in Chicago. I wanted to include them as an aside when I get around to writing about Chicago, but I guess it'll have to be the otherway around. My blog is a lot like my life: sometimes things don't turn out the way I plan, but oftentimes it's better that way. Kind of like getting lost on a drive and discovering cheese curds or finding lemonade stands.

After a too-long* walk along a few streets in downtown Chicago and wandering in beautiful Victory Park, I headed down to the closest street, Lakeshore Drive (I think), to head back to my car. As I was thinking about how romantic Chicago was, and wondering why I didn't see anybody reflecting this. I caught up with these two:


Young honeymooners? I wish I thought to ask. Next time.

They were early twentysomethings, not that it matters. They were so sweet with one another (stopping once for a quick kiss even--probably why I caught up to them). I had my camera and was touched enough to snap their picture.

When we arrived at the corner and signal light, they turned to me. I was worried that they were going to confront me, that somehow they knew I took their picture. But, no, they asked me to take a picture of them with their camera. Of course, I was delighted to oblige. Who wouldn't be? They were simply adorable. I wanted to pack them up and take them home.

After I took their picture (with Lake Michigan behind them), I told them how charming I thought they were. Their sweet bashful response just tickled me. We wished each other well and parted.

In my dream, the young man was with me when the clowns attempted for the last time to fix (!?) my teeth. They followed me to the same Parisian train station from the first part of the dream. He and I tried our best to escape. We came to a free-standing wall and the young man's face lit up. The young Chicago woman sat on top of the wall, and was looking down at us. "My sunshine is here!" he shouted with much relief and happiness. I shared his joy.

He climbed the wall and the two lovers started singing to each other the chorus of Babyface's song Sunshine.**

I listened for a few lines and then woke up humming the song. It's summertime here in the Bay Area. Foggy mornings. I miss my morning sunshine, but I know its still there just above the fog.


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*I parked the rental at a 2-hour street meter. "Two hours is plenty of time!" I foolishly thought. When I arrived back to the car--after the couple-interaction I thought to look at the time (damn! 3 hours?!) and ran 3 blocks back to it--somebody left a pretty $50 present. A present that I should pay today.

**Yesterday at Peet's, the barista asked how I was doing. "Life is good." I asked how he was doing. He replied that he was stoked to get the new Guns 'n Roses DVD. Wow! He's young, too. I told him that I downloaded some Def Leppard recently, but couldn't tell anybody I knew for fear of ridicule. "No, Def Leppard is AWESOME!" He went on to tell me about his friend who taught himself to play the drums one handed. Anyway, I realized that I've been really silly for letting judgmental people make me feel ashamed of my eclectic taste in music. This post is also for Babyface, Def Leppard, Barbara Streisand, and all the other artists who I like and my snooty music friends laugh at.