A fuzzier dream last night, but I want to maintain the habit of journaling.

I'm on vacation at the beach, in a sort of jungley lagoon with my mom. We want to leave and go get food, so she asks me to throw her flip flops into the water so we can grab them later. I try to frisbee the flip flops into the drink, but they boomerang back onto the sand.

Later, we are walking through the city and pass by a popular restaurant. My mom explains it is the most popular place in town. I look in and they are serving smoked wood chips for dinner. Folks say they are to die for. I wonder how painful it would be to digest, but the place looks really cool so I agree to try it later.