I guess I need to stop talking in dreams:
Yesterday, I was walking home from Ben Thanh Market after shopping. I heard someone call my name. It was Alice. She invited me to join her and her sister for some wine at the New World Hotel. She had just bought me a Coach bag as a gift. Then we went to her house and ate pizza made by an Italian chef - her sister's boyfriend. They are visiting from Italy.
It wasn't a dream, it was real life. But it felt like a dream...I felt like the luckiest person alive. I felt like I was on Oprah's camera. I checked with Alice today, and she confirmed that it all happened. Yes, Angie, even the pizza was real, with tomatoes grown on a family farm near Verona.
But no one got it the way I told it yesterday - that I know of, anyway.
I will be telling that story for a long time, so I had better get it right!
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
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6 comments:
Please, please keep on talking the dreamy way!
OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH, I get it.
I got it, but the snowball was already half way down the hill by the time I logged on...
That makes perfect sense . . . I'm glad you clarified it.
I recommend that you be careful what you dream about from now on anyhow, just to be safe. There's no way to tell if that really was a dream that really did come true...
@Amy T. RE: "the snowball was already half way down the hill by the time I logged on"
HAHAHAHAHA!
I'm so glad the pizza was real!
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