Hmmm….my head is still somewhat fuzzy from my nocturnal adventures with Johnny Depp last night. I might still be trying to fall back asleep, if it would have been the Johnny Depp that was in Donnie Brasco, and if Al Pacino were tossed into the mix, I wouldn’t be typing this right now, I would be fast asleep spending time with these two dark haired hunks! Heck, I ‘d even be willing to substitute the “badly in need of a shower Capt. Jack” from Pirates of the Caribbean….anyone other than Depp’s Wonka character.  But unfortunately, my dream starred the rather odd, border-line creepy character that Johnny played in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words…..take a gander at the photo above…need I say more. I don’t even think the stunning Jacki O could have made a fashion statement with those shades. I can’t really get worked up over a man who’s hairstyle rivals that of Dororthy Hammel. Don’t get me wrong, Johnny is all that and a bag of chips…the man floats my boat, except when he is prancing around a confectionary factory sporting a shiny chin-length bob.                                                                

Hmmm, then of course you have the original Wonka, good ole’ Gene Wilder. He also has that rather odd border-line creepy thing, plus the hair. What was up with his hair? Maybe that bob wasn’t so bad afterall.

If I had to choose which Wonka would star in my next dream, I suppose I would choose Depp. Hollywood really should do another re-make with George Clooney as an edgy fun-loving smooth talking W.W., a version that moms could get into. Let’s not lose sight that moms are the ones who spring for the tickets, popcorn, and Milk Duds.                                                                                         

Luckily I woke up before any memorable moments occurred between me and the crazy candyman. It must have been that insatiable craving I had last night for chocolate that brought on this weird dream.You know, the kind of craving that has you digging through drawers and cabinets in hopes of finding one long forgotten Hershey bar, or a tiny morsel of Halloween candy that never made it into the big orange plastic bowl. 

After coming up empty after my initail search, I resorted to the old “fake out”. Some of you might be familiar with this one, it’s when you attempt to substitute something else for the real thing. Sort of like replacing a perfect cut diamond with a cubic zirconia. My “fake out” was a handful of CoCo Puffs… Ha!….who was I kidding! Did I honestly think a CoCo puff would even come close to a replacing the magic  a piece of Godiva dark chocolate provides! I have now decided that the name CoCo Puffs should be revised to Coal Coal Puffs….that is a much better description of the actual taste.

On my third search through drawers filled with dry rice and pasta, I suddenly discovered a bag of trail mix. My spirits lifted as I thought to myself, maybe, just maybe, there will be some chocolate mixed in with this expensive squirrel food. I scoured through the bag and found some pseudo chocolate chips…other wise known as that five letter word…c-a-r-o-b. My five letter word for carob is y-u-c-k-y. I’m not sure if carob actually falls into a food category. I again pulled out my handy Webster and looked up carob. Definition: “a tree with a sweet pod.” I don’t like that word pod. Sounds like something out of a Speilberg flick….come to think of it, aren’t pods where aliens are birthed? Yeah, remember that movie where the senior center had alien pods at the bottom of their community pool? Pods are also border-line creepy….Wonka probably sleeps in one at night! Ooooh, I am getting chills just thinking about it. I pray I have a normal girls dream tonight, maybe Brad and I riding his Harley through windy roads of Italy. The clean cut Brad that is.

Chocolate, or as I call it “Candy of the Gods” should have absolutely no connection whatsoever with pods. The only edible item that should be allowed anywhere near a pod, are peas. Case closed. In my opinion, carob should strictly be sold at Pet Smart as a tasty treat for hamsters, rats, and gerbils, marketed soley as critter cuisine. I think carob could also make a killing in the weed industry….the “you’re ruining my lawn kind of weed!”…not the “hey man, where are the Cheeto’s kind of weed.” I am positive carob would be a top seller on aisle 3 at Home Depot. This is where you will find organic based lawn fertilizers…never tasted manure, but I imagine it’s very similiar to carob.

As the night rolled on, I became a desperate woman in need of my drug of choice, chocolate. Would this require a trip to 7/11? You know you’ve hit rock bottom if you are willing to risk shopping at a 7/11 past 10:00 p.m. After ten, the name of the store changes to “Gansta, Thugs, and Creeps Mini Mart,” not the kind of store you linger to read food labels or browse thru the latest issue of People’s Sexiest Man Alive. At that hour you do what I call speed shopping, this is where you plan your in-store route while still outside. This is to be done as you sit in your locked car, while you carefully peer thru the store window. After you have memorized the entire store floor plan, including all available exits, you then approach the store as if it’s on fire. Move, move, move. Enter store, eyes down, grab Reese’s peanut butter cup, pay, pray, eyes still down, and run, run, run!  Always have a back-up spotter in the vehicle, and keep the engine running at all times. You need to think like a robber, you need a get-away plan…you want to “Get Away” from the store as quickly as possible….hopefully with all limbs intact.

Oops, I got somewhat sidetracked….anyhow back to my craving:  I began to ponder how I could talk my hubby into leaving his cozy spot on the sofa, where he was dosewatching (that’s my word for how men over the age of 50 watch t.v.) a sacred sporting event with only one eye open. I quickly let go of my fantasy, and suddenly remembered we have been married for ten years, way past the trying to impress each other stage. I then realized I had no leverage….I wasn’t in my12th month of pregnancy (although there are days I feel like it), I wasn’t hooked up to an IV with both legs in a cast, and I didn’t have a pair of championship boxing tickets for a major bout in Vegas that I could casually wave in front of him. To make matters worse, it was 32 degrees outside, he was in his worn out sweats, the fireplace was going…long story short, hell would have to freeze over before this dude was going to run out to get me a Butterfinger. sigh….lesson for you single girls out there…enjoy life now, and most importantly…..work it, work it, work it!

I never did hit pay dirt last night. However, I did find my favorite  potato peeler, a very cool Pampered Chef spatula that I thought was long gone, some much-needed Ricola Cherry Honey cough drops, and one stale fortune cookie from Panda Express. I am sort of superstious…okay I am very superstitious, I figured that cookie had a message inside that was meant for me (you know, my angel’s whispering to me again) and sure enough it did! My fortune read “Seek and you will find, if not, is was not meant to be.” Sweet Dreams everyone zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

P.S. My sincerest apologies to anyone who owns a pair of gawdy oversized sunglasses, is a huge fan of sugar-coated breakfast desserts, oops I mean cereals, thinks carob is the greatest thing since wheat grass juice, anyone who prefers to shop at convenience stores instead of impersonal wharehouse membership stores, and any person, male of female, who is sporting a hairstlye from the 1970′s. This post was all done in jest. thanks.