i had a fitful night of terrible sleep that netted me a total of maybe three hours. and when i woke up for the final time, i was dreaming about Heather of angelweave. wha? i think it's because i went through Frank's Peace Gallery last night, and she's in there... why couldn't i have dreamed of Curtis the
Former Marine instead? not that Heather's not nice and all, but Curtis, well. the ladies will understand. here's what i remember...
i was at my house, but it faced south instead of west, and the Noggles lived across the street, but we'd never met except online, because they were like the cool, popular neighbors on the block, and i was seen as the bookish freak who spent all my time on the computer when i wasn't fighting with my lawnmower (ok, i added that part). it was 6 a.m. or something like that, and Heather was about to pull out of her driveway. i waved through my screen door, and she walked across the street to my house. i had a friend over, a new potential blogchild (have no idea who she was or what she looked like, just a smudge-blogger, a bludger if you will), and the blogchild started jumping up and down while i was trying to be so cool. "hey, SarahK, hey, SarahK," bounce bounce "isn't that Heather of angelweave? holy cow, she's like, coming over here! oh! what do we do?" thud. i drop-kicked her and told her to shut up.
i sat down next to the bludger and pretended i wasn't like totally excited to be meeting the totally cool Heather. wow. you know what she did? she just walked right through that screen door without knocking, like she was cool or something. i thought, wow! she feels at home here!
she sat down next to Bludger and me and watched FoxNews in silence for a couple minutes. i finally broke the silence with, "so, i read on your blog that you saved Brian's life, but that it's a big secret until he writes about it, because you let him blog stuff first since he's the man and all. what's that about? the saving his life, i mean." Heather looked at me, looked back at FoxNews, then got up and walked to the door.
"well, i've gotta go, lass. gotta get to work. oh look, there's Brian. hey, Hon! come over here and meet our neighbor SarahK! she's not a freak like they say, she watches FoxNews!"
Brian J. Noggle then walked through my door, thrust out his hand, gave me a creepy bug-eyed stare and said cautiously, "nice to meet you. Heather didn't tell you about saving my life, did she?" "no, of course not, Sir." Brian said, "ok, then, i will tell you what happened." a flash later, i stood in my doorway, and the Noggles were in their convertible Thunderbird, Heather waving goodbye, Brian moving his lips like he was talking. i couldn't hear what he was saying, but i knew what he was saying, because a movie was now playing, one of those silent movies where the facial expressions are overexaggerated so you know what's going on. Brian had flipped over the handlebars of his bicycle in the Grand Canyon, and Heather had thrown him over her shoulders and biked him all the way out of the Canyon and to the medical facilities there.
oops, i don't think i was supposed to tell y'all that. don't tell them where i live, ok?
(what a freak i am.)