Last night I had another crazy one. Dream on.

I was standing on the corner of Butterfield Ranch Road and Mystic Canyon (the intersection right by my house). The time was around dusk, and my 12th grade teacher Mrs. Lindemulder was there, sitting in one of those fold up lawn chairs that everyone seems to have. I forgot what we talking about, but talked for a very long time, well past sunset. She was critiquing something about me (funny that I forgot what I was about). Then, when we were done talking, I walked down the street and asked her about her coffee or something (something random like that) and then some car drove by and picked her up.

Crazy. There was a lot more too it, but alas, Madrona is internet-less at the moment.