DREAMSCAPE ...

There isn't even a word that could possibly describe my dream life.  My dreams are like a parallel universe that I exist in that is ultra bizarre.  I had one the other night that I  have not been able to stop thinking about and I keep wondering how I could possibly get it written into a screenplay.

So the premise of the dream is this .... I am living in someone else's reality.  This reality is really dangerous, like life threatening dangerous and I am about to be murdered -- but I have no idea by who/how or where.  All I know is that I have to escape.  The means of escape is through several doors, which will take me into yet another dangerous reality, BUT, if I take the wrong door, I will return to the same reality I have just tried to escape.  So I'm basically fucked no matter which way you look at it.  (Prophetic?)

Scene one:  I am in high rise office building.  I am in the coffee room taking a break.  I'm a temp worker.  The people there don't like me.  As I sit and drink my coffee I watch an old lady jump up and down until her underwear falls down to her ankles.  Several other workers race to help her pull up her underwear and then drag her away because she has obviously lost her mind.  Just then, I realize that if I don't make a quick get-a-way, I am NEXT and I know that if I don't get out of there immediately something terrible will happen to me.  I run out of the coffee room and escape into a stairwell where there are several large doors all offering a means of escape.  Above each door is the destination.  One door says, TO NEW YORK, another FROM TOKYO, another TO HARLEM and another TO LOS ANGELES.  I don't know which one to take.  I'm panicking.  I decide on the New York door ... I open the door and there is a little car on a rail -- like a roller coaster ... I sit in it and am immediately hurled into space through the New York skyline until I end up on a street right on my butt.  Just like in THE TERMINATOR movie, the bad guy has followed me and I'm off and running again!  Oh shit.  I run through he city trying to find a place to hide when I realize that I do not know this city at all and I have no idea where to hide.  So I do the only thing I can, and that is to find my way back to the DOORS -- to choose another reality -- I find my way back to the stairwell wherein I jump onto the TOKYO roller coaster and I am propelled into TOKYO.  It is night and I find myself in a beautiful hotel lobby, very eco-chic, lots of white lacquered walls with huge aquariums full of exotic, colorful fish.  I'm safe ... for a while.  I try to familiarize myself with this new place when all too soon I sense the evil presence and I once again have to find my way back to the doors.  I run through the lobby and get on the escalator.  I know that if I can find my way back to the stairwell, I will find THE DOORS and I can escape again. 

The dream continues ALL NIGHT and consisted of me desperately trying to escape all of these realities until I finally woke up in a panic and thoroughly exhausted. 
My personal interpretation:  I'm screwed and my reality sucks. 


THOUGHTS?  ANYONE?  

ALL ABOARD!! NEXT STOP ... "DANNYLAND"

It was a typical Sunday afternoon ...

Danny:  "Hon?  I know ... why don't WE make enchiladas tonight?"  (translation from Dannyspeak to English ..."WE" means "YOU").

Me:  "I don't know how to make enchiladas." 

Danny:  "Oh it's real easy."

Me:  "Then why don't YOU make the enchiladas?"

Danny:  "Ha ... ha."

Me:  "Besides, I don't have anything.  I haven't been to the market."

(I had been neglecting my own grocery shopping for the last two weeks because we were going to have Thanksgiving at my sisters and she just got a new job and didn't have the time to do all the shopping so I was helping her out and taking everything to her house, therefore, I had no food in my house which meant that I would have to go to the market to buy EVERYTHING for the enchiladas, then come home and COOK on Sunday ... the traditional day of rest ... but not for Debbie).

Danny:  "No really ... it's really easy.  All you do is get the chicken, shred the meat, chop up the onions, get the sauce ....


Me:  "Again ... if you know how to make them, then you make them."

(We like to play this funny little game, he and I, over how easy/difficult it is to cook a particular meal and I always end up losing because COOKING IS EASY therefore I ALWAYS end up making the meal ... even on the weekend ... because I am unemployed and I have to earn my keep ... because I'm a slave - ugh.)

So I go to the market, get the chicken breasts, buy an onion, get the tortillas and buy an apple pie for HIM because I'm stupid that way.

I call my sister ... "hey, how do you make your enchiladas?"  She tells me.  I do it.  I sweat and chop and cook and shred, I peel and saute and cook and cook and then I wash the  THREE pans I have so I can re-use them because they are the ONLY three pans I have because my husband is a tight wad and then I cook some more.  This equates to standing on my feet which are riddled with plantar fasciitis for over an hour which is killing me.  I get the enchiladas in the oven, then I start making the rice and the beans because you can't have enchiladas without rice and beans so this means I am standing for another half hour.  I finally finish in the kitchen and after having done two rounds of dishes ALL while preparing dinner I FINALLY SIT DOWN.

Me:  "Danny, YOU are going to clean the kitchen for me because I've been standing for over an hour and I made you the enchiladas okay?"

Danny:  "Yeah, yeah."

DINNER IS SERVED.

Danny:  "MHMMMM, MYMMMM, OMG, THESE ARE PERFECT!  MHMMMM".

Me:  "Awww honey ... It makes me so happy when I make something you really like."  

Twenty minutes pass.  We eat.  We converse.  We smile.  Everybody is happy.

Forty minutes later there is an empty Pyrex baking dish with remnants of tortilla, chicken and enchilada sauce which is rapidly coagulating.  Two pots, one with rice the other with beans which need to be transferred to Tupperware, a multitude of forks, knives, spoons and other cooking utensils are also hardening with various remnants of foodstuffs. 

Me:  "Danny .... you are going to clean the kitchen for me right?"

Danny:  "Yeah, yeah.  I'll do it in the morning before I go to work."

Me:  (I knew it)  "That's disgusting" I say.

Danny:  "What?????" 

Me:  "Letting food sit in pots and and pans overnight like that while the food hardens, etc.  Only pigs live like that."

Danny:  "I'll do it in the morning what's the big deal?"


OK.  I'm not even going to attempt to explain why I cleaned the stupid kitchen but I swear I will never, EVER make enchiladas again!  EVER.  And I mean it.  Really. 

HOUSEWIVES OF BEVERLY HILLS ....

So I caught RHOBH last night and it was rather uneventful (which means that no one set anyone's hair on fire) Lisa and Adrienne met for drinks so that Adrienne could properly apologize to Lisa for accusing her of selling stories to the tabloids.  Adrienne in turn, thought that Lisa should also apologize to her for ... for ... oh something!  Anything. 

 Kim is now sober but still riding the cuckoo-crazy train. 

(Me thinks Miss Kim has had way too many chemical peels).

Brandi, whose ex-husband is the super gorgeous Eddie Cibrian, who left her for Leanne Rimes, is very hypercritical of herself ... tragically so.  During a photo shoot she actually got upset because she saw wrinkles on her thumb ...(and don't you know that Leanne Rimes is totally watching every single episode!)  I kind of feel sorry for Brandi but then she does say some seriously off the wall shit.  However, I will always be on the side of any woman who has been betrayed ... it's just basic girl code.  I hope Brandi meets an super wealthy man ... just so we could watch as all the other Housewives kowtow to her and kiss her ass.   

Kyle is always happy.  I'd be happy too if my husband was sexy, gorgeous, rich and had just surprised me with a brand new Maserati.  I think Kyle is a real "girl's girl" but I gotta say that her need to constantly do the splits on camera irritates the f**k outta me.  Yeah ... we get it Kyle, you're super limber, therefore a great lay.  Whatever.

New Housewife Yolanda Foster is married to David
Foster, GOD OF THE MUSIC WORLD, therefore she is a GODDESS because this shit just rubs off if you're married to it.  She has an incredibly BEAUTIFUL home.  Exactly my style, Mediterranean, California causal loaded with easy elegance.  It seems Yolanda knows how to marry the right man.  Apparently, her ex-husband is the infamous Mohammed who is LOADED and happens to be Lisa Vanderpump's friend.   Yolanda is an ex-model (surprise) and her daughter is also a model (surprise) and Yolanda doesn't "interfere" in her daughter's career but what I saw on t.v. when she attended daughter Gigi's photo shoot was Yolanda running the whole show.  Which clothes to wear, how to paint her eyes, ... basically, a controlling pain in the ass.  Time will tell what she is all about. 

Taylor Armstrong.  All I can say about this one is she must stop with the lip injections and the Botox.  Her face is completely frozen and nothing moves.  Word is she has a new man ...
It's amazing to me how quickly these gals recover from suicide, heartbreak, divorce, etc., et al.  Just find another MAN ... preferably ROLLING IN DOUGH ... and move on.  This is not normal.

So ... here is my pitch for a new reality show.  SCARED HUMBLE.  We take the RHOBH and put them in a setting where they must actually live with and interact with REAL people.  I can see it now ... Lisa Vanderpump trying to buy diamonds at Cost Co., Adrienne Malouf DRIVING, all by herself, in a REGULAR car, to Vegas where she would then stay at an affordable motel off the strip.  NOW THAT I WOULD WATCH!  Can you imagine these hoity toity broads interacting with regular people who don't know/care who they are?  How funny would it be to watch some regular Joe or Jane tell Lisa Vanderpump to go fuck herself LOL!  Ooooh, I think I'm onto something.  Really.  Kind of like "Wife Swap" ... we could called it "Life Swap ... Scared Humble".    What do you think?  Would you watch? 

I'm fucken brilliant. 

EVERYBODY HAS A PLAN ...

So last Friday was a very special night for me as my adorable friend Tina and I went to see a screening of Viggo's lastest film "Everybody Has a Plan." 

This is the first Argentinian film Viggo has done and it is quite a big deal for the Argentinian community because Viggo grew up there and the Argentinian people love him like one of their own.  

Adding to my excitement was the atmosphere ... it was a very sophisticated affair with most everyone speaking Spanish and lots of press and cameras, live music and tango dancers ... I almost felt as though I was really in Argentina. 

There were a lot of VIPs from Argentina, representatives from the Argentinian Consulate and people representing film in Argentina.  I definitely got the feeling that Tina and I were rubbing shoulders with some very famous people in Argentina (even if we didn't know who they were).

As for the movie ... it was fantastic.  It was a special treat for me to get to see Viggo on the big screen because he's not one of those actors who makes a movie every five minutes.  Viggo plays twin brothers; one good (questionable) and one bad (questionable).  It was surprising, intense, romantic and psychologically interesting.  I do not want to give too much away but there was some naked Viggo - not a ton, but enough to make this girl happy. The entire cast was phenomenal.  As always, Viggo was brilliant.  I felt transported ... a most excellent movie experience.  



After the movie there was a wonderful party.  The musicians continued playing, the tango dancers continued dancing and waiters with trays of delicious empanadas walked about while free glasses of wine were served.  There is something about being in Hollywood ... the people watching was fun and those Argentinian men are HOT.  I don't think I've ever seen so many beautiful men in one place EVER.  Tina and I were drooling ... as we meandered about we joked about what we would do if we were single and 20 years younger (X rated for sure) ... for me, this is the one good thing about being older ... you can openly stare without embarrassing yourself because ... for all intents and purposes, you're as good as invisible.  This is not Tina's problem.  She is much younger than I am and a sex bomb. 

It was a really great evening and thank you my friend Tina for sharing the night with me. 

If you are a movie lover then this is a MUST SEE.  On a scale from 1 to 10, it was definitely a 10.


P.S.  Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

MY LOVE AFFAIR ...

with jam.  It is 11:00 pm and I have been sitting on the couch for half an hour wrestling with the idea of going into the kitchen and making myself a jam sandwich.  I LOVE Jam.  Strawberry Jam.

When I was a kid in school I would anticipate, literally until my mouth watered, the two jam sandwiches I would make for myself when I got home.  Two jam sandwiches on soft white bread. I even put jam on tortillas.  To this day there is no bigger treat for me than a tortilla slathered with jam.


When I first started taking Ambien (the last time I was traversing the Purgatory of unemployment) I was one of those people who exhibited the side effect of nocturnal eating.  I put on 30 lbs.  Partly due to massive consumption of jam filled tortillas.

Now, every morning, I have wheat toast with butter and jam.  EVERY.  MORNING.  I look forward to that on my way to bed ... tomorrow morning I can have my toast and jam (smiley face).  My brother, who teased me mercilessly when I was a teenager, always loved to call out the fact that I was not what one would call a domesticated female.  I did not cook.  I did not clean.  I did not do anything like that.  When he really wanted to do some damage to my already fragile female psyche, he'd hit below the belt with "what are you going to make for your husband when you get married Debbie?!  JAM SANDWICHES!?"  It filled me with shame.  It really did.  What WAS I going to make my future husband for dinner?  I didn't know how to cook.  What if he didn't like jam?

I have since widened my horizons ... I will now indulge in Apricot jam as this is less fattening (at least that's what Weight Watchers says), or I'll enjoy Boysenberry jam ... Mmmmm.  But nothing beats good old strawberry jam. 

So ... after going on and on about my love of jam, should I go to the kitchen or not?  It is now 11:19 pm.  I think I've overcome the urge ... and if I go to bed right now, the morning will come that much faster ... and I can have my toast and jam (smiley face) ... NITE NITE!

THE VIGGO CHRONICLES (Part X)

When we last left our heroine she was in the midst of an emotional breakdown.  Viggo had left her sitting under a tree with a broken heart.  Unable to process all that she'd told him, he was overcome.  It was perfectly understandable ... let us now return ... to The Viggo Chronicles (Part X) ...

A few weeks had passed.  It was agony.  I had made myself resist the urge to transport to the library out of fear that if I did and he wasn't there it would confirm his disdain for me.  But I also knew that if I found him and was able to talk with him one more time and try to explain, that no matter what happened, I would accept the outcome.  So, with that in mind, I wished...

Deep intake of breath .... I was in the library.  I didn't move or walk ... I just stood where I was and scanned the room.  I didn't see him.  I wanted to look around but I was hesitant to move about and explore.  Maybe I should just go back and return in a few days.  Maybe it was too soon.  Or worse, maybe he resisted.  My heart sank.  

I took a step.  And then another.  I did not venture too far, just enough to peek around a few corners.  Now I was able to see the entire library.  My eyes scanned the place ... he wasn't there.  With a heavy heart, I left the library and returned to my other life.

I went back to reality, although at this point I no longer knew what reality was.  Viggo was in my blood and in my every thought.  It was torture.   I have resolved that I will not put this behind me until I have one more encounter.  I always thought that closure was a luxury that only a few get to experience - a ridiculous idea -  but this situation is so odd that I know I will never be able to rest until I have had one last opportunity to explain.  My last words to him were so shocking that I realized he would need time to process it, and maybe, after he had the opportunity to do so, we could speak once again ... even if it would be for the last time.  

Bolstered by the fact that I could still transport myself I became obsessed.  It was all I could think about.  I started transporting twice a week, then every day .... sometimes twice a day.  It was crazy I know, but I couldn't stop.  At some point I knew I'd have to end this madness but until I felt that I'd done everything possible, until I grew tired and drained of hope, I had to continue trying.  

Weeks turned into months.  I was transporting all the time now.  I was losing weight.  Losing sleep.  Losing my sanity.  I was growing so tired.  I had determined that if I did not find him soon ... then I'd have to end it.  I would stop traveling the ether and stop visiting the library.  It was the only sane thing to do.  My life had become so unmanageable and crazy that I was afraid I'd truly go mad.  I resolved that after tomorrow, if I didn't not encounter him, I would stop.  Forever.  I would stop longing and crying over him.  It would be done and I would move onto to some semblance of a normal life again.  

With deep resolve ... I wished.  I transported to the same spot I always did ... by the elevator.  I stood there doing my usual scan of the room before venturing forward.  After having spent the last month crying myself to sleep, punishing myself for my deceit, wishing and hoping for resolution, going over and over those last words I said to him .... "ding ding" ... the elevator rang and broke my train of self-pitying thought.  As I turned around the doors were opening.  IT WAS HIM.  He was in the elevator!

Our eyes met.  Mine full of fear and trepidation.  He approached me.  My heart raced but I was thankful that it would soon be over.  I was so tired of the stress and anxiety this had caused me.  I was ready to be done with it.  He held his hand out.  I took it.  He led me to the place where we first sat on the floor of that library so many months ago.  I felt oddly calm ... I was so emotionally drained by now that it was a relief not to feel the anxiety of the past couple of months.  I was truly exhausted and I felt that however this went, it would soon be over and I was okay with it.   

 "You look terrible" he said.

(... to be continued)

VIGGO ... *sigh*

It's all my fault!  It is!  Because I am a compulsive stalker I have Google Alert email me anytime there is anything new on my boyfriend.  Well .... Google alerted me last night with some disturbing information ... apparently, there is talk that my boyfriend has secretly married.  Yes.  MARRIED.  To HER.  That woman who stole him away from me.  

BUT, since Viggo rarely comments on his personal life it is anyone's guess whether this is true or not.  I'm in a panic.  It sent me into trolling mode.  Google-ing, Bing-ing, and Yahoo-ing all over the internet to find out what I could.  There was nothing other than "rumors" and even the "rumors" were few.  I ran across a story that Viggo had been tweeting fans to pray for his dog who was having surgery.  This CANNOT be true.  Viggo would NEVER have a Tweet account.  He is far too private to tell the world at large his every movement.  

I do know that he has been living with HER in Madrid.  It is ridiculous that the possibility of his marrying could make me so sad but I feel that he is mine ... in my mind.  On the other hand, Viggo needs a woman.  He really does ... he doesn't know how to dress himself very well.  All unmatching ties and scuffed shoes with Armani suits.  And in all honesty, I can totally see what he sees in HER.  She's an artist.  An actress, intelligent.  Creative.  AND she's an Aquarian ... like his ex-wife, but more importantly, like ME, which confirms, once again, that he and I would be 100% compatible (as our love in the ether has confirmed over and over again).

So, until I read something "official" I will try to remain calm.  

I will notify you all as soon as I hear anything.  Please cross your fingers and send me positive energy.  I will most definitely need it.  

You may not hear from me for a while for I must ... I ABSOLUTELY MUST, venture back into the ether to find him for we have to discuss this cruel rumor.  I will report as soon as possible.