I am so annoyed. I'm writing this again because Blogspot had an error five minutes ago. Ugh.
Anyway, I am typically against posting my dreams but last night's was really over the top.
I am in some small town, maybe Annapolis and I see a friend of mine *Allen standing in the street arguing with Victoria Beckham. Seeing as Allen is a friend and I am nosy, I go over to see what the fuss is about. I never find out, but Posh leaves him behind but takes me with her.
She and I stop a restaurant to use the ladies room. She thinks I'm a nosy bitch (true) but likes me anyway. We bond over our love for The Long Blondes, The Cure and British Sea Power. Unfortunately this was not enough, she later ditched me at a gas station.
Malcolm picks me up. In my car. (note: I was supposed to hang out with him yesterday and that didn't happen. I'm fairly certain that this is why he was in my dream.)
Malcolm takes me to the Black Cat. Except the Red Room's bar has been replaced by the downstairs bar from DC9. (Feel free to converse about how pathetic it is that I have dreams about these places and know them well enough to distinguish lacquer in my dreams.) I'm fairly certain that it's my birthday, possibly my 21st because I am sloshed and dancing with more flail than usual. At some point it is time to go home, but I'm very ornery. Then at some point Chad (America) talks me down and either Seth or Malcolm (I can't tell them apart because they have the same body type and haircut) escort me home. To my apartment in Richmond. Except because it's a dream it's about a block away and the Black Cat is in the Fan (the neighborhood that I live in).
So, yeah. Um...what the hell was that? Why was DC9 involved? And since when do I have some sort of subconscious obsession with Victoria Beckham?