It was a 1940s crime thriller about a man who was being framed for something he didn't do. (a la The Fugitive but the crime wasn't murder.) Jason and I had stumbled upon evidence of his innocence and were trying to locate him to help him. Somehow, I saw something in the logo of the company that was accusing him (industrial espionage, maybe?) that told me where I could find him. It was a combo of the Pepsi-Cola, Chili's, and Gander Mountain logos that led us to a tunnel underneath this company built on a mountain. Brilliant! He hid underneath the business out to destroy him! They'd never look there! Jason looked like a very dashing Errol Flynn. The man (I don't remember his name) looked like William Holden. And I, I looked like pictures of my grandma. Shocking. (What? You expected a real picture of me?? Sucker!) When we found the man, he had been mildly injured by a bullet and I can remember but one line from the whole dream. Jason said, "One word: hospital." We then pulled him into our 1940 Buick convertible and drove off into the sunset!
I am of the belief that hats should come back into fashion. Well, more than they have been. I am very fond of a man in a hat. (If Jason would only start wearing the hats I choose for him!) Women too, for that matter. If I wouldn't have embarassed the bejeezus out of my sister on Easter, I would have bought this hat that went with my outfit quite well. All red and black straw. Quite fetching. Quite. (Quite is apparently the word of the day. Deal with it!)