chino + mel =4 ever

If I could invent a machine that turned our dreams into reality, I'd be making a fortune. And I don't mean dreams as in aspirations. I mean dreams that you have in your minds when you sleep. On Saturday morning, I woke up wanting to take my dream into the real world. I had met a guy and I wanted to get to know him more.

My dream went a little something like this:
I was sitting in the Primary Room at SCBC with Dorc and Trish, reading some letters. The low tables are now high and we're sitting on barstools. I turn and look out the door and two black guys are looking in. They both look really ghetto, dressed in baskbetall jerseys, sagging shorts, dark-skinned, afros...one guy points me out to the other. The second guy walks in, hands me a letter and walks out. It's folded like how girls folded letters back in high school. I open it; it's written in green. The letter goes on to say that he found a note from me on his green VW beetle...I can't remember what else it says, but it was a really nice letter. Apparently, the day before (in my dream), I remember having some spare time so I wrote little notes and placed them on any green beetles that I saw. I only signed the note "Melody" but apparently that was enough for him to find me. While I'm reading the letter, the guy comes back and peeks in the room. He sees me still reading and storms away.

It's getting dark out and people are leaving. Trish and Dorc leave and I think Jon is sitting with me now, reading the letter. I decide to find this guy. I look at the end of the letter so I'll know the guy's name: Chino. I see a group by the office and Chino's friend is there. He now looks like a Gap model...short dreads, light-skinned, sweater turtleneck...he's pulling a beanie over his head and talking to some others who are from SCBC. None of them are Chinese, but they're from our church anyway. The guy is saying, "I need to go to the bathroom. Does anyone want to come too?" I am impressed that he's already fitting in with the regulars.

People are going out the back door and forming a line in the side yard to leave the church. I catch up with Chino there. He's about 5'7", light-skinned, short dreads like his friend, very cute, wearing a soft creme sweater. "So you got my note on your car?" I say, nudging his arm. I can't remember anything else we talk about, but we laugh and connect immediately. What a find, I think to myself. Susan Yee walks by and introduces herself to him. They shake hands and he says he's met her before. All of a sudden, he's a white guy that kind of looks like James Flint. These physical changes don't seem to faze me, though. We get in line to leave. The exit process resembles a carnival ride where you have to line your party up in a row. One guy is riding a bike and pulling his wife in a carnival ride seat behind him. I line up and wave at Shauna Briggs, who is in line behind me.

[Here, my alarm clock wakes me up. I press snooze, forcing myself to dream for nine more minutes about Chino before the alarm goes off again. It works.]

I'm sitting across from Chino talking, but I am not looking at him. I ask, "How old are you?" He replies,"We're close in age...I'm 14 and you're about 19, right?" I'm floored..."I'm 23," I say, right before waking up. But even as I wake up, I'm convinced that he's not really 14. He's about 23 and that last little addition to my dream doesn't count. I wake up thinking, that's my dream guy that got away...