English Rose

Had a strange dream this afternoon while napping. The plot line consisted of the following:

Chris and I were married and living with a friend of his. Somewhere in the dream sequence I was consuming rose ice cream that tasted like condense milk and roses. Chris’s friend turns out to be absolutely psychotic and wanted to kill me, so naturally, I packed up my things and started running. Chris then called me and told me to run, for he found out that his “friend” was psychotic as well. So with 2 pints of rose ice cream in my backpack I ran, and while on the run I kept passing, again and again, the same shoe store with a funny name. I finally met up with Chris and stopped running. The funny thing is, I wasn’t scared of the psychotic friend at all, but all the while I was very angry that my rose ice cream had melted in my bag and I could no longer have any. Then I woke up, came out of my room sleepy eyed, and told my roommate about my dream. I talked a great deal about rose ice cream, what it tasted like and how it looked. I also mentioned that the big shoe store I kept running by in my dream had a funny name that sounded like “Xanadu”. I then thought about the rose ice cream all day, wondering if it exists (for I’ve never seen it), wondering how to make it, and wanting to make some and to sell it.

Cut to night time: Chris and I had just got back from our date at Sammy’s Woodfire Pizza and I decided to stop by Keils to get something chocolate. I marched up and down the isles and was about to give up my search when I saw a fogged up panel of the fridge containing pints of what looked like Hagendaaz and Ben and Jerrys. I opened the fridge expecting to find Double Fudge Chocolate Brownie but instead what I found in my vision was an ice cream called: “Crème de Rose”. Astonished at the existence of such a thing I eargerly bought it and took it home. It tasted like condensed milk and roses, and the name of the brand? “Zambedoo”.