Me? A spy?

Ok, here's another fun-crazy-wacky dream.

I was some sort of spy. Me and 2 other spies kept going over to a place to rescue hair products. But our mission kept ending up badly.

The guy that was my superior got killed 3 times. Every time he would always tell me, "don't worry, this time it is going to work." I think that Nathan Hale story really got to me.

I always managed to survive though (because I am oh-so-cool!) BUt I had to bribe this couple to let me get through without their telling on me.

I was covered in mud when I got home and went take a shower.

Meanwhile, it was my birthday, and we were having a breakfast party at home. All my family was there, and also my friends from Memorial church, and my friends from my American church Jim and Dave. Jim came with everyone he knows from work and I got really mad at him. How was I to explain to grandma that she had to feed an army?

"Who the heck are these people?"

"They work with me." he answered as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

"Who told you you could bring your friends from work?"

Dave also brought a bunch of people - FRIENDS OF A FRIEND OF HIS. And he kept apologizing cuz he had no idea there were so many.

I kept looking at Dave and Jim, trying to figure out a way to make grandma not aware of their friends presence.

"These people -" I could only say in despair, "you know they were not supposed to be here! you know that, right?"

oh!!!! uh-oh!

"YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I was completely overwhelmed by the people's behavior, "Just tell these people they can't start eating! Do they know it is my birthday? Do they know we have to pray before we eat?

"Dave, get the food out of that woman's mouth for crying out loud!" It was an old black poverty-stricken woman who got every piece of food she could hold. "Oh, my gosh, you can't eat that! PUT THAT BACK!"

Things calmed down after a while.

Since I had taken a shower, my hair looked like a porkypine.

Then grandma mentioned that this prince from some land was sort of in love with me. (It was the son of the couple I bribed on my mission.)

And my friend Marcus went like,

"Sure, that is so happening. You marrying a prince. Only if he is blind."

"What are you saying!"

"THe truth! No prince will ever marry you."

I get so mad at his spite that I want to hit him, but he is much older than me, so I figured it would be disrespectful. Everyone in the room would be upset at me. Especially because everyone in my family worships Marcus.

Crap, I have to hit some one. I have to show everyone I am mad. And I have to do it now.

Then I take out on Jim, that has nothing to do with the story, but happened to say he was taking off his shirt. (just for the record- it was a beach house)

"Just put on your shirt, you! This is my house!"

He laughed cuz he got no clue what I was so mad at, so I pushed him as hard as I could and yelled,

"Just put your freaking shirt on! NOW!" and that got the message across. "And have all of these teenagers who followed you do the same thing! See what a bad example you set!"

The teenagers were my friends from Memorial youth group, Dani, Felt, and Deó, and a couple of guys from Jim's work.

Then my Aunt Inaja went like, "Marcus is right. With your hair the way it is now, when the prince gets here, he will turn right back."

"By the way," Marcus hollered, "did you shave?"

So I got mad at both of them. What the heck!

And you know what! That prince is sort of ugly and dumb-looking and I do not want to marry him at all.

But , oh crap, all my friends are here and I am looking like a porkypine. ANd to make things worse, there are all these people that Jim and Dave brought. They don't even know me! I better go get my hair done. And why the heck did Marcus have to holer the words 'did you shave?' out loud? Did the whole world have to know I forgot to shave in the shower?

Meanwhile the heater was on. Dave and Jim (I guess they were the only americans in the party) were, like, dying.

"Virginia," that was Dave, "can you please turn this thing down, cuz we're sort of scorching here."

Gee, there was some sort of problem with the heater. I could not get the thing to go down. "Just a few more minutes ok, guys?"

So Marcus got up and solved the problem.

"It was I.O.I.C. - incompetent operator in charge."

All the time, I had the distinct feeling he wanted to put me down in front of my American friends. For goodness sake. What the heck was wrong with him! A 34 year-old man. You'd think he 'd know better.

"Marcus, just drop the attitude!"