Bonding with Posh Spice

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.

Part one.

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.

Part two.

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.

Part three.

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.)

Part four.

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 Except the Red Room's bar has been replaced by the downstairs bar from DC9.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).

Fin.

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?

That guy from work

I cut this kid's hair the other day. He came in a few days later to get my card. I gave it to him, but made the mistake of writing my full last name. Not good. He went home and added me on Facebook. Now he sends me messages, telling me how much he likes his hair, that he hopes I'm doing well, etc. What's worse is that my current "status" says that me feet are recovering from this weekend, and he sent me a message inquiring about my feet and that he hopes that they're alright and that he'll pray for me.

People he has his favorite scripture listed in his favorite quote section. I'm down with other people being religious, but if you even glance at my profile, you know that I'm not. I hope this boy doesn't try to "save" me. That would be bad, veryvery bad.

I had a dream about this recently (so weird). He came in with his mom. He sat in my chair and as I started cutting his hair, he started "speaking in tongues" and when I asked what he was doing he said that he was giving me a blessing. Then his mom, who was sitting in the waiting area, stood up and started gibbering, too. We asked them to stop, but they didn't because they thought we were heathens and need the Lord, and so I didn't finish the cut and we escorted them out.

I hope this never happens.