Last night, we went to the long awaited Foo Fighters concert. God Bless M for humoring me and going to a concert he had no interest in and getting there a full two hours early (we feared bad traffic). For me, he sat through two different bands he had no interest whatsoever in and was gradually won over by the FF--possibly because he was too amused by my antics to be indifferent.
And his presence by my side is why I didn't run toward a tall, leggy young woman in cut-off denim shorts and strike up a random conversation--despite the fact that I had (sort of) dreamed of her less than two weeks ago.
A little while ago, I dreamed I had met two very colorful young ladies as I sat in a tattoo parlor. So distracted was I by the fact that I was meeting them that I ended up with a tattoo up the length of my left leg. It was a beautifully elaborate design with birds intertwined throughout. My first panicked thought in my dream was that it would be impossible to hide a tattoo that started on the top of my foot and ran up to my thigh. My second and third thoughts were that it was stunning and that Boo and Alex were nodding in approval. So vivid was my dream that I woke up inspecting my leg in the early morning light for the faintest sign of ink. I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed at the plain, white skin covering my limbs, despite the fact that I know I'm not the kind of person to get tattoos.
A few nights later, I had a similarly related dream--where I had apparently embraced the tattoo and was trying to 'frame' it in the perfect outfit. The whole thought process seemed so logical and real, perhaps because I settled on a long, black skirt with a long slit on the left side(I actually own one of these)--because according to Dream Me, a mini-skirt would be obvious...
Which brings me back to the young lady I saw outside Cox Arena last night. Her left leg had a gorgeous, elaborate tattoo that started on the top of her foot and expanded all the way to where her shorts were cut off. The tattoo was a colorful and intricate floral pattern that must have taken painful hours to complete, with birds perched and flying from various branches and blossoms. Had I been by myself, I may very well have walked up to her and stared at our shared tattoo and maybe even tried to make my stare less embarrassing by explaining what I was doing (because that wouldn't be weird at all, right?). But I didn't. I curled up by M, trying to contain my excitement before the concert by telling M about Serj Tankian, System of a Down, Nirvana, the Foo Fighters and Dave Grohl.
Thank goodness for patient husbands and the drop of self-restraint that saves me from doing crazy, crazy things.