I'm blogging from my mom's laptop. She lent it to me for the weekend.
I better come up with some good posts after all the whining about my broken toys.
Want to hear about my dream last night?
I was about 100 pounds lighter and maybe 10 years younger. So you just know it's going to be a good one...
I was at a dinner, a family dinner. Extended family, and maybe it was like Christmas or something. It was taking a very long time to get the food sorted out and prepared, and my mom and other relatives from her generation were handling things in some kitchen totally unknown to me.
I was chatting with those folks who were too old to help with the food. The ones with wrinkly faces and fuzzy minds. We were sitting on old couches in someone's basement. The couches were made of that itchy man-made fibre... like astro turf. Only not green.
Supper was eventually brought to the tables (long banquet tables with plastic tablecloths and cheap salt and pepper shakers) (no way my mom was in charge of this meal. There were silk poinsettias on the tables with yellow napkins) and somehow, after we finished eating, I found myself on Heath Ledger's lap, snuggling.
And it wasn't the joker Heath, it was the Vanity Fair Heath:
I think, if anyone had come into my bedroom last night (other than Drew who just wanted me to scratch his back every hour) and looked at my face, I probably had a smile on. A real smile. Not those fake ones I produce when a camera is pointed in my direction.
And then, with my head on his shoulder and my lips near his neck, he gently took my hands and whispered into my ear, "Would you please pray for me?"
I know, right?
Even my dreams are rated G.
I woke up.
And didn't know what else to do but pray for Heath. Silly, for sure. But. Whatever. Couldn't hurt.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Cream cheese icing
2. Four day weekend
3. People who know how to draw. Why not support a young artist and buy this book about Bluebeary that Rebekah illustrated?