Isn't it the best to be woken up happy by spectacular dreams?

An old church going friend, Wendi Peterson, and I are sitting at a cafe in SF talking when in walks Hillary Clinton and her husband (but it's not Bill, it's some famous, balding and fit movie actor who I can't place quite yet). They have a seat at our table and the husband introduces himself and his wife, like we wouldn't know who they were. We start chatting, me mostly with the man. He asks if I'd like to get together and talk more later since he was sort of in a rush. Sure, sure. As Wendi is talking to Hillary, she asks 'why do your haircuts always look so bad?' Which Hillary seemed a bit shocked at but not offended, and I offer in that I have the best stylist in the city. She agrees to see him, but has to leave in an hour and a half, but Jon's cuts take an hour I tell her. We plan to schedule next time. I call Jon all ecstatic and ask if he would be willing to do Hillary on a minutes notice, because she is an awfully busy woman. He agrees. And then I message him on facebook and link this entry for him to read.