Twice in my life, I’ve had intense, realistic, romantic dreams. I mean romance, love, wedded bliss kind. The first one was a couple of years ago. It was my wedding day. I can’t remember anything about the man other than he was Latino and looked at me with total devotion in his eyes. I woke up happy.

Last night, I had a similar dream, but it was much more detailed. His name was Manny, and he too was Latino. I was having dinner out with friends (I, know, as IF) and I saw someone standing close to the exit. He was wearing some kind of uniform (green and yellow) that resembled a bullfighter’s clothes. Now, this would probably make him more Spanish, I realize, but he assured me that he wasn’t. (weirdness, as if being Spanish was a bad thing?) Then he asked me to come over to a table with him. I guess my friends left, as they never made another appearance in this dream. I went over to the table with Manny and saw two gift-wrapped boxes. One was large and one was very small. I opened the small one. It was the oddest ring I had ever seen. It was a series of silver bands, separated, and scattered with diamonds. In the center, there was something that actually resembled my seafoam-green foam earplugs. It was actually some kind of jewel, I was told. The ring was very old and it was a family heirloom. He asked me to marry him. I told him I didn’t know who he was, but he insisted that we had met once. He looked so sincere (and so much like Mark Consuelos) that I said yes. We went to tell my family, who were thrilled with the news. My dad even made a joke about if I couldn’t have a bullfighter, I could at least have someone who looked like one.

Then I woke up.

So apparently, I really need to meet more Latino men. At least one of them MUST be the man for me.