Dreamin' Dancin'

It's been what...like two or so weeks...?...since I last wrote. Do I feel terrible about it? Just a little, but I've been transitioning to Fall-mode, and that means lots and lots of daydreams, singing, humming, driving, and apparently, also dancing.

Ha, not in real life in public...yet. But dancing has begun to creep into my dreams as of late. Allow me to share the weirdest dream I've had this year:

So I'm walking around with some family, headed to a public library (which as far as I know, does not exist), and blah blah blah---this part's not too important---the POINT is, leaving the library, we're walking towards our car (which is not a car we have), when I see a ruffian in a hooded robe coming closer and closer to us. My first thoughts: hmm, is it Halloween already? Let's pretend we're not scared by his hooded attire and walk away. But then...I see this miscreant pull out a crowbar and start trying to break into our car! I became upset and started running at him, ready to attack. It's at this moment that I realize I'm wearing heels but I try to ignore this little detail. The miscreant looks intimidated, drops the crowbar, and starts running away. I yell out "Yeah bastard, you better run away!" but this is a bad choice on my part, because he heads back our way. The miscreant booms "YOU WANNA FIGHT?" To which I say, "Yeah let's fight!...DANCE FIGHT!"

It's at this moment that I break out in some awkward and probably really dumb (even for dream standards) dance. And I'm humming my own beat to get some rhythm flowing. I finish my dance and then it's the miscreant's turn. He breaks out his own routine. Meanwhile, my mind is concocting a way to distract him from hurting us, and when he finishes, I say, "See? You are good at something!" And then I wake up.

This is how I felt in my dream...(source via)

But that's not all. Right before I woke up this morning, I recall the following:

I'm in my childhood home, in the kitchen, and I tell my younger sister to video record me while I twirl around in the air like some sort of ballerina. She obeys and when I'm done twirling, I see the recording. I'm like a magical twirler, because I seriously propel myself in the air and stay afloat twirling for what seems a really long time. Then my grandmother (who is a very small woman) does it too!! And all I can say to myself is "Wow, must be genetic!"

Yup, now I feel like dancing. Anything really, even though I'm a terrible dancer...though I will admit, when I consciously fully decide to dance ridiculously, that's when everyone else think I'm doing a good job. Whatever, it still feels weird to me!