So, I just had a weird dream last night.

My friend Sarah and I were flying back to Canada, and we had flown into a smaller airport for some reason, taken a bus, and then somehow got stranded in the middle of Ontario. While we were looking at the map of Canada, she said we were very far away from where we needed to be. I said, No problem, and proceeded to move a red dot on the map that represented us and drag the red dot across the map closer to where we wanted to go, somewhere around a border between Quebec and Ontario. When we looked up, we were standing beside a highway, and I couldn't decide whether we were supposed to go left or right, and Sarah said we go left, that's the way to Toronto. (We were trying to get to Toronto.) So we began walking left, and immediately ended up in a giant beach resort with the sun shining and people laughing and carrying around drinks and flowers in their hair. The beach resort was named a small place that I had visited once with my Uncle Mitch, although I can't for the life of me remember what it was called. (I saw a sign in a dream, but it changed when I looked at it three times from Vespa Beach, to Perdue, to what it actually was, which I don't remember.)

Sarah looks at the map, and says, with an extremely distressed tone, that we were VERY far away from where we needed to be. At this point there was a bit of a commotion, and for some reason, Tim Allen showed up with the lady who played his wife off of Home Improvement, with really gray hair, being followed around by about fifteen people all asking if they could take pictures of him, and he posed and was pleasant to them. Sarah also asked to take a picture of him, which she did, and I wanted to stop her because, hey, the man's on a vacation. That's no way to treat him. After they left, he sighed a sigh of relief, and walked over to the beach to sit by himself. I was now alone, and I don't know where Sarah went, but I assumed she went into the store to figure out a plan how to get to Toronto. I walked up under a little side hut attached to the main lounge, and looked at Tim Allen sitting on the beach all by himself, with the tide coming on a perfect sandy beach, and felt pretty forlorn over the fact that I was supposed to be in Toronto and that I was in a beautiful beach resort miles and kilometres and days and days of walking away from my destination. I heaved a big sigh and started to walk away.

Then someone called from behind, "Hey man, why you so sad?" I thought for a moment it was Tim Allen talking to me, and since I didn't think I really ought to deserve talking to anybody famous, I felt pretty flattered, like I was in one of those TV miniseries where good things happen to people who are down on their luck or Sidekicks with Chuck Norris or something. (Yes, I know. I was dreaming.) I turned around and I big group of black guys that I didn't notice before were staring right at me, as if I was the new show in town. This one guy with dreadlocks started talking to me, asking why I was so sad when I was in such a nice place. He said he's always happy, and he lives off of water and eating small things like seeds. He reminded me of King Louie from the Jungle Book, with the way he was talking to me. I was afraid he was going to start breaking into Bob Marley's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" with his posse as back up singers. Luckily, Tim Allen happened to come over and asked what the problem was. The guys answered for me, and said I was miles and kilometres and days away from where I was supposed to be and so I was sad. Tim Allen wanted to buy the men a drink for being so nice to me, and they tried to turn him down because they said they don't drink or eat a lot of things that he was offering them, but then one of the beach waitresses came around, and Tim Allen looked at her, and she said, "Don't worry, I'll bring them some vegetables and things they like." The guys looked pretty happy, and Tim Allen asked me to go sit a little ways away under the shade with him and talk about things. He asked where I was going, and who was that girl I was traveling with? I said she was a very good friend of mine, and Tim Allen nodded, and then we sat for a while, just staring out, watching the people, and I suddenly felt a lot more relaxed and like I shouldn't worry so much about where I was going. We talked a little more, and then one the waitresses came and bothered him, to which he said a few things. I was surprised he didn't have bodyguards or more people around him since he had a pretty big career, and he said that People with less fame than him walk around with a horde of people following him just because they want them, and he has only one person. He sounded kind of critical. We laid in the sand for a little longer in silence. Then he started talking about various things, most of which I don't remember, since I then woke up.

Dreams are strange things.