Last night's:
I am surrounded by a dozen other brides, and we are all wearing green wedding dresses. All in the shade of green that I like. We seem to be in a salon attached to a wedding venue. I am sitting in a chair getting my hair done ... except the stylist is a retard. My hair is wet, but she is trying desperately to use a curling iron. As my hair sizzles, she proceeds to tell me that my hair holds the worst curl she's ever seen. I am frantic and take to doing my own hair after the dumbass stylist refuses to blow dry it.
The rest of the dream is a blur, but I remember all of the green-dressed brides are ALL getting married at the venue. One right after another. I wonder why I chose such a popular, in-and-out kind of place. Finally, it's my "turn" to get married, and I am helicoptered out of the salon over what seems to be a delta (Amanda - remember the area where we went to the beach with Eric and Jo? Where we had to walk really far from the car? It looked exactly like that ... when he had to go under the overpass and the ocean spilled into the smaller rivers through the coast. So random.) The helicopter was low enough that I could pick out my guests, who were all making this terrible trek across the sand. I picked out the two Zacharys ... Markey and Horne, and called out to them. Zac Markey was wearing penguin swim trunks, a bucket hat and flip flops.
And then I woke up? What an odd dream.
I have been freaking out about finding a salon to work with. I haven't gone to a real hair stylist ever, basically. For the past five years I've just been going to Carsten, Tempe's hair school. I need to find one I can trust, but I don't know where to start.
Apparently I have some issues with being the "same" as everyone else. A dozen green wedding dresses? Wedding factory? Jeez.
Real updates to come about being thankful for life, holiday to-do lists, bakeries!, rehearsal dinner, fitness, etc. Stay tuned.
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