Raisins and A Great Big Pineapple Bouffant

I woke up this morning remembering one of my dreams from last night. This happens to me most days; generally they are about family or friends. Sometimes I even wake up smiling because of my dreams, despite the fact that it is morning, and carry the fun vibe with me throughout the entire day. I can not help but think however that last night I apparently smoked some crack or ate banana peels before bed without realizing it because upon waking I even said to myself ‘what the f?’

Before I divulge the details of my crazy dream it would help if you knew a little background information to truly get the full effect of the insanity.

I am a fairly small gal, 5’-2”, with chin length reddish-brown hair. My hair is bone straight but has a lot of volume about 1” down from my scalp so I lovingly refer to it as my ‘brown football helmet’. This I stole from Steel Magnolias because it just seemed so fitting for my coif. Mine is not quite this big but hey, it was the 80’s.

Those of you who know me know that I am a stalker of Jason Mraz music. I can not seem to get enough of the fat-cat’s-scat and meaningful lyrics that just flow so well into his groovy tunes. He blends pop and jazz seamlessly with freaky psychedelic sounds and hand drumming. It may sound strange but give it a listen and you will see what I mean. His long time hand drummer is a guy named Toca. Here’s a shot of Toca (thanks Jennifer Fong).

Final related material: I do not live with my mom, I am organized & free of clutter to the point of OCD, Maple is my favorite wood and I do not like little girlie hair clips.

So the dream went something like this…

My Mom comes into my bedroom to tell me that Toca is here. Well of course he is, why wouldn’t he be at my house? I tell her I need a minute to get ready so tell him to wait. She leaves and I look around what I can only presume is my bedroom. The lighting is very dim, if there is even a light on at all, and there is crap everywhere that makes all the dark wood furniture seem that much darker. Piles of papers line every wall, hundreds of chotchkies fill every square inch of space on top of my dresser and other furniture pieces and I see all kinds of banners & ribbons hanging from the ceiling. The walls are stark white, but look grey in the light, and the shades on two enormous windows to my right are drawn tight.

Now before hanging out with Toca a girl obviously needs to freshen up to look her best so I cross the room to the other dresser with a large mirror. I glance at myself and for reasons unknown nod with approval at what is looking back at me. There is my face, my tiny bod and a two foot tall bouffant of twisted nappy hair bobbing around on top of my head. To add insult to this do I have apparently decided that there need to be hundreds of little hair clips in varying fluorescent colors strewn about it. There are little birds, smiling faces and tiny animals in every shade of hot pink, electric blue and lavender that a girl could ask for. For those who may not know what a bouffant is, think Marge Simpson (without the blue of course, there was enough of that color in the clips).

Finally, before any hang time I must check my podcasts so once again I cross the room and somehow manage to locate my iPod in all those hummels. I click through the buttons to get to what I am looking for and watch the show with great delight. There dancing around is a California Raisin with the face of Jason Mraz. Oh yes his little shuffling feet cause me to giggle with glee and he is even wearing a signature Mraz fedora.

It looked a little something like this:

I watch for what seems like hours and then suddenly I am sitting on a sofa next to Toca. We chat away about who knows what but he never laughs at my hair. That is a true gentleman right there.

I awake to realize that my brain is apparently stranger than fiction.