Unspilt wine, me likes Buble

We were awake last night until 3am trying to put up a Christmas tree. The tree is now lying face-down(?) in our back yard. Trees are difficult.

Dream bit: Guy and I are having a huge party, people are showing up from every chapter of our lives: friends, friends' parents. Our house is large and one room to another flows openly and grandly. I roam from room to room; I come upon the kitchen where some "friends" are, Guy is there too, the energy is cat-swallowed-canary. Guy whisks me away and we head into the center of the living-room, Buble is playing overhead, Sway, I think. We begin to dance while I am still holding a glass of wine (white, yuck). Our dance is graceful and incredibly acrobatic; Guy lifts me as though I were a raindrop and my body turns and twists in ways it hasn't since my (early) twenties. Guests are enjoying our dance, the room is still but for us two.