Head Trips

When asked, "What does Ava like to do on the weekends?" as part of a survey at my bridal shower, 99% of guests answered: Sleep. I am not embarrassed to admit that this is indeed one of my most cherished hobbies. It's not just the chance to relax and replenish after a hard day's work, it's also a portal to limitless adventure. As you know, I read a lot and because of this, my dreams are quite involved with complex plots and multi-color dreamscapes. Sometimes I even have the ability to control my actions. For example, about a quarter of the way into the dream, I'll realize that the circumstances are too absurd to be real, so I'll go crazy and do things I wouldn't normally do in real life. My favorite was the time I played Quidditch with Harry Potter.

Lately though, instead of my usual action-packed exploits, I've been the victim of several nightmares having to do with the wedding. In one, I am walking down the aisle when I realize that I've forgotten to shower, brush my teeth, wear deordorant, do my hair or makeup. In another, I dream that the Dominican Republic is a total crap hole with glass littered all over the beach and beggars grabbing at your clothes. I also dreamed that we got Este's name wrong on the invitation. I was marrying a "Miguel" instead.

A new theory about the evolutionary function of nightmares is that the brain exposes you to scary scenarios during your sleep, so that the repeated experience desensitizes you, making you better able to handle your fear should it come true. So with images of crackheads and drug dealers fresh in my mind, I boarded the plane to the DR last week, hoping with all my heart that I wouldn't have to test my crisis coping mechanisms.

My parents and I had a wonderful time and were very happy with the resort. We met with the wedding coordinator, florist, DJ, head chef, and hotel manager to talk about how we could make the wedding the best that it could be, and I hope that you like what we have planned. In the interest of not creating too much hype, I am not going to tell you how good the food was or how your glass is never empty, but I will say that the sand was smooth and instead of beggars on the beach, there were topless European women. (If the wedding does not turn out to be all that I dreamed, then at least I'll know Este will be happy.)

Now all I dream about is the delicious feast that awaits America tomorrow night.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! and more importantly, Sweet Dreams!