She did try that fake-yawn-to-arm-around-shoulder maneuver though, which worked on Brad but not on me!

This is what happens when I catch the last 10 minutes of a late night Friends™ rerun and follow it up with a quick scan of Hollywood gossip before going to bed at 2 a.m., as told in Twitter tweets this morning upon waking up :







The first thought I had after opening my eyes was that no matter how much Angie tries to manipulate the people around her, there's no reason I can't remain friends with Jennifer Aniston. My second thought was that I couldn't believe I was actually awake & had that first thought.

A bit later, my friend Jen (well, my OTHER friend Jen!) e-mailed me THIS link she stumbled upon after reading my tweets. Turns out there IS a list!

My friends (Friends™?) are the best because they totally get me.

My conversation with Madonna

In 4 easy steps:

1) I read just enough media coverage of her marriage contract and subsequent divorce/visitation rules that were allegedly put in place to keep her world from spinning 'round the wrong way.

Doing so has seemingly shrunken my capacity for catering to bullsh*t (which as you probably guessed isn't sizable to begin with) down to the size of a peanut. Coincidentally, she prefers her men's juevos to be peanut-sized as well.

2) I watched the following video of Madonna on stage performing Human Nature, which consists mostly of her singing, "...and I'm not sorry, it's human nature. I'm not your b*tch, don't hang your sh*t on me", until Britney Spears joins her on stage and Madonna adds, "I'M NOT YOUR B*TCH... SHE'S NOT YOUR B*TCH!".

I was hoping Madonna would then point at Britney and say, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner!", but it was not to be.


I really have always liked this song, though.

3) Human Nature played on an endless loop in my head for about 16 hours yesterday. I was working hard on a photo shoot, so it was awkward when I'd sing just loud enough for my clients to hear me say something about not being their b*tch.

4) After all of the above, last night Madonna & I met for drinks (in a dream), where I sat her down to say this in an extremely firm tone:

"We can agree on this: You're not MY b*tch, but you ARE a b*tch."

Then, I left her there, alone at the bar. She was no doubt berating herself for failing to have had me sign a friendship contract.

What it means, my good friend, is that we are not alone!

Back in April, I posted about the Scott Baio dreams I've had. Yes, you read that right. I just wrote that I have had dreams (plural!) about Scott Baio. Give yourself a moment to take that in. I'll wait.

So, tonight I got this email from my very good friend Em:

---
I just ran across my journals from 1989/90, the year I was in Norway. I had to email you when I read my own words from August 9, 1989:

"Very relaxing day today. Got up around 10:30. I was dreaming about Scott Baio, for some reason..."

Weird, huh? I tried to find the post you had written about your Scott Baio dreams, thinking how FREAKY it would have been had we been visited by him on the same night in August. But I couldn't find it.

Jules, what does it all mean????
---

It means that we can't possibly be the only ones, Em! There's no way these Scott Baio dreams are isolated incidences, and I encourage those of you who have also spent some of your sleeping hours with him-- as Chachi, Charles in Charge, or himself-- to open up here in the comments. We can form some kind of wacky dream support group, you know, do precisely the kind of thing that Al Gore envisioned when he invented the internet.


I can only hope that tonight I'll be sucking face with The Fonz, after which he will surely say, "Ayyyyyyy!".


As a show of solidarity, here is a hotlink to the original post of my Scott Baio dreams: click here. May it inspire you to leave a comment with details from your own Scott Baio dream!

Charles in Charge of my days and my nights... and probably yours too.

Thumbing it's nose at the realness of "Reality TV", VH1 raises the bar by stealing show ideas from my very own dreams

If you haven't read this blog from the beginning you should read this post before continuing on.

I just came across this on VH1's website:






Think I should submit my entry to be on the show? After winning, I can already see our dating show spin-off: "JULIE LOVES CHACHI, OUR HAPPY DAYS TOGETHER"! Take THAT, VH1! It's reality gold!

See Jim, Reality TV really can make dreams come true! Check it for yourself here.

He's definitely in charge of my nights

Please interpret this recent dream I actually had:

I'm at a party with friends, sitting around the living room. Scott Baio walks in, apparently a friend of a friend. He sits next to me on the couch and everyone starts talking about his career, asking him what he's been up to these days. He's producing and directing, of course! People start reminiscing about Happy Days, and eventually the conversation gets around to the show he was famous for in the late 80's. I turn and look deep in his eyes. Then I say with all the sincerity in the world, "I want 'Charles in Charge' of ME!" Bow-chika-bow-bow.... The next thing you know, Scott Baio and I are making out on the floor, in front of all of my friends (who, by the way, had no problem sitting there watching us! Take a hint, people)! I woke up in the middle of a really good kiss, just as he was running his fingers through my hair; and I was actually pissed that it was a dream.

It's embarrassing, but in the spirit of full disclosure: I actually had my first Scott Baio dream about a year ago. He & I were in Central Park, having a very deep discussion. He said something very sweet and I said to him, "Awww, THAT'S WHY JOANIE LOVES CHACHI!" Are my dreams poetry or what? Sick, twisted poetry. Clearly I need professional help.

I blame these dreams on the fact that I have a Happy Days paperback book ("Fonzie Drops In!") on one of my bookshelves, a book that I don't think I have ever actually opened. I think it was my sister's and somehow I acquired it over the years. The eve of which each of these dreams occurred, I happened to be moving things around on that particular shelf, so something about the red cover must really get stuck inside my brain.


Honestly though, who doesn't love Chachi? At least that was J-Roc's very supportive 2 cents. Thanks, J!