Yesterday I had a lovely dinner with my friend Susan at Wildrock Cafe in Ft. Collins. I had the braised beef and mushroom ragout on penne pasta (delicious!) and she had salmon with asparagus and mushrooms on a potato bed (also delicious!) and we both had a great conversation with each other. I love spending time with her and it was probably our conversation of the evening that led to me having a wierd dream last night.
I dreamt that I was in India and I met a man I was in love with, only my sister (who wasn't married in my dream) was in love with him too. He looked and sounded like the guy who was the fiance in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, though in real life I don't really find that guy all that attractive. Anyway, we were leaving India, but my plane left earlier and after I left, the guy met with a detective who was investigating the death of his (the guy I was in love with) parents. Oddly enough, I had, earlier in the dream, during an odd sequence I won't describe that involved chamberpots, met a fellow who knew lots about me because he was as observant as a detective (and in fact, looked like Hercule Poirot).