Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Sing Happy Birthday With Me

We interrupt your normally blogging experience to bring you a special announcement from Jaimie's other half and the author of Peace on That.

Hi,

I'm James, Jaimie's boyfriend. You know, the guy that hates Jaimie's cats, talks too much about politics and irks Jaimie with caveman ways. That's me. The love of her life and the thorn in her side :)

Anyway, Jaimie is busy so I decided to hijack her diary to wish her a Happy Birthday. Yes, today is Jaimie's birthday. So today we celebrate the birth of a beautiful woman. I know many of you have grown fond of Jaimie through this blog. I will tell you that she is an extraordinary woman with a very kind heart. She truly is my best friend and I know that I am a blessed man to have her in my life. And this week, Jaimie's life is what we are going to celebrate! Say it with me.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAIMIE!!!


The celebration started last night with dinner and tonight I plan to dance a jig while butt naked and covered with barbecue sauce. A messy proposition... BUT INSPIRING! And you're worth it, Doll.

In closing, I just ask that you celebrate this day with us by adding words of wisdom and encouragement. Send her some positive energy. Ok, I'm going to leave you now and return to my Bush-bashing rants. Ya'll have a good day. Thanks for ya time.

- James

Thank you. We now return you to your normal blogging experience already in progress.

Posted by Jaimie :: 8:52 AM :: 37 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Monday, January 30, 2006

One Flew Over



A friend recently sent me an email. She had just come from a funeral. A funeral of a 23 year old kindergarten teacher who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend.

Imagine what her parents are going through. Imagine what her students are feeling...

And the boyfriend? He set himself on fire, but the police found him. He's in the hospital.

Why did he do this?

She found out that he was seeing another woman behind her back and she broke up with him. So he killed her.

Which got me to thinking...who is crazier? A woman who is jilted, or a man? We all remember "Fatal Attraction", with that crazed Glenn Close going nuts because she was only a screw, not a love, of Michael Douglas. But really, who is crazier?

Remember, men start wars...men started the hated war that we are involved in today.

In my opinion, men are more likely to go crazy when a lover leaves them. Men are innately more violent than women. Men are taught to be "tough", not to cry, and to always be "one up" on the competition.

And besides...

there are more restraining orders filed against men than are filed against women.

So...

When Jilted, Who's Crazier? A Man, or A Woman?


Posted by Jaimie :: 7:07 AM :: 23 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Friday, January 27, 2006

I Could Have



I could have. But I didn't.

I considered it. He thought I was beautiful. He even told my mother he was interested.

I could have. But I didn't.

I imagined what it would have been like. I imagined the kissing, the touches, the love making.

I imagined a man different from my husband.

A man attentive, loving, sober. Any man other than my husband.

I could have done it. All I had to do was give him my cell phone number, or ask him for his.

But I couldn't do it.

I would look in my daughter's eyes and know that not only would I be cheating on her father, I would be cheating on her.

So I didn't do it.

But once we were apart, I was free...

And able to do whatever the hell I wanted.

Have you ever cheated?


Posted by Jaimie :: 7:17 AM :: 29 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Tag I'm It


4 Jobs that I've had:

1. Selling neon necklaces on Venice Beach when I was 11
2. Working at a coffee house
3. Working with at-risk teenagers in a nuthouse
4. Teaching Kindergartners

4 Movies that I love:

1. Carlito's Way
2. Flashdance
3. The English Patient
4. Jungle Fever

4 Places I've lived:

1. Santa Monica, California
2. Los Angeles, California
3. Inglewood, California
4. Bonn, Germany

4 Television Shows that I watch:

I don't watch t.v. anymore.

4 Books that I love:

1. Roots
2. The Diary of Frida Kahlo
3. Memoirs of a Geisha
4. The Story of Art

4 Places that I have vacationed:

1. Paris
2. Barcelona
3. Berlin
4. Prague

4 blogs that I visit daily:

1. Peace on That
2. The View From Crazy
3. SonyaRed
4. A Stone, A Leaf, an Unfound Door

4 Favorite Foods

1. Enchiladas
2. Chili Rellenos
3. Arrroz y frijoles
4. French Fries

4 Places I'd rather be right now:

1. In James Manning's arms
2. In bed
3. Costa Rica
4. Spain

What is your favorite food, place, book, and job?

Posted by Jaimie :: 8:08 PM :: 15 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Sex Books



My dad didn't say much to me when I was growing up, mostly because he wasn't really around. But one thing that he did say always stayed with me:

"You better stay in school. You might lose your money or your job or your house. But no one can ever take your education away."

It helped that both of my parents were college-educated, and it also helped that both of my parents were teachers.

What did not help was that I was boy-crazy.

"Are you going to study tonight?" the boy at the time would ask.

"Yes," I would answer.

"No, come over. My mom's not home."

Sex or study? Sex or study? Sex or...

Study. Somehow I managed to handle both. And when those college acceptance letters came rolling in, I knew that I made high school a success.

I knew that I had made my father proud, even though he wasn't there to see me return the acceptance letter back to my university of choice with my signature at the bottom.

And now that I am a teacher, I tell the students at my school how important it is to stay.

No one can ever take your education away.

Did you like school?


Posted by Jaimie :: 5:06 PM :: 32 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Monday, January 16, 2006

Sausages



I've had a variety of jobs. The strangest one was as an assistant to a personal trainer.

I found the job through my university's job center. It paid well and seemed easy.

The interview was held in his office of the gym he owned. He was rather, well BIG, and a little frightening.

BIG GUY: So basically, I just need you to put some info into the computer, answer phone calls and walk my dog.

Me: Walk your dog?

BIG GUY: Yeah, it's just a little cocker spaniel. She's a little crazy, but she'll warm up to you. Come on, I'll take you to meet her.

We got into his red Corvette and drove to Marina del Rey, where he owned a condo. We walked inside and there was the spaniel, looking totally normal and cute. I reached out to pet her and she growled.

BIG GUY: Precious!! Precious, stop that now!! Sausage! Sausage!

Me: Do you give her sausages?

BIG GUY: No, I just threaten to turn her into sausages to scare her.

Weirdo.

He gave me the keys to his apartment and told me I had the job.

The next day I went to his apartment. I could barely get into the door. The dog barked and snapped at me. I inched my way along the wall and grabbed her leash.

"Come on, Precious," I coaxed. "It's me, Jaimie. Remember me from yesterday?"

Growl.

I walked out and drove to the gym.

"I'm not walking your dog. Sorry," I told BIG GUY.

$10 a hour was not worth fighting a damn dog for.

Even if she would eventually be turned into sausages.

What was the strangest job you have ever had?


Posted by Jaimie :: 5:50 PM :: 18 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Saturday, January 14, 2006

The Particular Order of Life


My birthday is coming. I'm turning 30.

How I spent my childhood years (in no particular order):

1. Playing

2. Dancing

3. Reading

4. Crying

How I spent my teenage years (in no particular order):

1. Crying

2. "Hooking up" and "Breaking up" with boys

3. Yelling at my mom

4. Studying like crazy to get into a university

5. Dancing

How I spent my 20's (in a very, specific particular order):

1. Going to a university

2. Having a lot of sex

3. Dancing in clubs every weekend

4. Hanging out in bars in LA every weekend

5. Becoming a mommy

6. Getting married

7. Getting divorced

8. Crying

9. Meeting the love of my life

And the best year of my life? 22

I'll let you know in 10 years how my 30's were.

What was your best age?


Posted by Jaimie :: 6:01 PM :: 17 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Thursday, January 12, 2006

The Aviator



Beds are meant for sex and sleeping. James used the bed, twice, as a place to put his dirty, sweaty socks.

Damn.

How many times have I expressed to him that I have a mild case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I feel utterly disgusted with dirt? In fact, it makes me sick to my stomach.

I stared at his socks last night. I loathed his socks last night. I imagined choking him with the socks while he was sleeping. Instead, I decided to write him a nicely worded letter:

Please do not put your dirty socks on the bed. I find it disgusting. And besides, I just told you yesterday. Don't put me in this position.

When he came home from work I smiled and said, "There's a note for you on the table."

He looked at me with that "Oh, shit" look. You know the one-the "What did I do wrong? Do I need to pack my bags?" look.

He stared at the note. He read it silently. He looked at the table. He cleared his throat. He shuffled his feet.

"Pick up the socks!" I screamed.

Howard Hughes and I have a lot in common.

What Drives You Crazy?


Posted by Jaimie :: 3:46 PM :: 23 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Wednesday, January 11, 2006

You Are My Puppet



I am the mother of a young girl. A girl who very much looks and acts like me. For example:

When I laugh, she laughs.

When I cry, she cries.

When I wear a black skirt with a green top, she wears a black skirt with a green top (except her top has a big heart on it or something).

When I have a headache, she has a headache.

When I don't eat red meat, she doesn't eat red meat.

When I have PMS, she has PMS...

Whoa, this parenting thing is getting kind of weird.

Thank God I'm not one of those "Sex-orgy havin', pill poppin', crack smokin', rubber and leather wearin' (with a whip)" kind of mom. Because if I was-I'd have one hell of an interesting daughter.

Are You a Mommy or Daddy?


Posted by Jaimie :: 6:20 PM :: 19 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Monday, January 09, 2006

Chop, Chop, Sleep, Sleep


When we first meet someone new, we never know if they will chop us up into neat tidy pieces with a machete, or become the love of our lives.

After getting to know James, he asked me if I felt safe with him. “Right now I do,” I said. “But how do I know you won’t cut me up and put me in a box and throw me in the ocean?”
“Well, damn, that’s terrible,” he said, shocked.

Fortunately, James did not chop me up, and instead, has been quite nice to me. My favorite thing to do with James is sleep, just simply sleep.

The first night that James and I slept together, I slept like I never had before. I did not wake up once, except to snuggle closer to him. I felt so safe with him.

James and I don’t always snuggle. Sometimes I tell him to get off of my pillow when his elbows are in my ears. But usually, on most nights, we are in each others' arms. My favorite position to sleep in is my back to his stomach, his hand on my hair, rubbing it from roots to end.

Who is/was your favorite person to sleep with?

Posted by Jaimie :: 7:27 PM :: 25 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Wednesday, January 04, 2006

She's Hooked


Within a month of James moving to LA, he said "We should start a blog."

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"You don't know what a blog is?" he asked, surprised.

"Is that some nerdy computer thing? I don't do nerdy computer things." I said, shaking my head.

"It's kinda nerdy, but it's fun," he answered.

Whatever.

Now, here I am: Ms. Jaimie, author of "The Diary of Jaimie", Ms."I Don't Do Nerdy Computer Things".

And I'm loving it.

I read all of your comments. I thank you for your thoughts, your insight, your written words of commonality, differences, ideas, dreams, desires, sadness, and joy.

You inspire me to write every day.

Why do you have a blog?

Thanks JamesManning for the New Look.

Posted by Jaimie :: 10:09 PM :: 34 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Monday, January 02, 2006

Dear Mr. President


First of all,

1. I tell you how I feel, but you don’t care.

2. I say tell me the truth, but you don’t dare.

3. You say the truth is a hell you cannot bare.

4. And I say gimme mine back and then go there - for all I care.

5. I got my feet on the ground and I don’t go to sleep to dream.

6. You got your head in the clouds and you’re not at all what you seem.

7. This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways.

8. So don’t forget what I told you, don’t come around, I got my own hell to raise.

And by the way,

1. I have never been so insulted in all my life.

2. I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride.

3. First you run like a fool just to be at our side.

4. And now you run like a fool, but you just run to hide, and I can’t abide.

Listen,

1. Don’t make it a big deal, don’t be so sensitive.

2. We’re not playing a game anymore, you don’t have to be so defensive.

3. Don’t you plead me your case, don’t bother to explain.

4. Don’t even show me your face, ’cuz it’s a crying shame.

5. Just go back to the rock from under which you came.

6. Take the sorrow you gave and all the stakes you claim.

And don’t forget the blame.


Why is the president of our country a liar?

This post is dedicated to my lover and my fighter.

Thank you to Fiona Apple for the words of wisdom.

Posted by Jaimie :: 6:38 PM :: 20 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Sunday, January 01, 2006

The Bikini Advantage


When I was 15 I decided I wanted to be a model. I sent my picture out to many agents on SAG, and received several calls back. I decided to let Interface Model Mangagement represent me. The only problem was the agent was a pervert and attempted to have sex with every model who walked in his door.

Zed Cards are a necessity in the modeling business, so I thought nothing of it when the agent told me that he would love to shoot my bikini photos for the Zed.

We drove up the coast to Malibu, where another model was waiting for him. She had a robe wrapped around herself, but dropped it as soon as the agent took out his camera. She was nude from the waist up.

He began snapping her picture. I was in shock.

Then it was my turn.

"I'm not getting naked," I said.

"No, no, no, of course not," the pervert stammered. "But, uh, when you're 18, all models have to take nude photos."

"Really?" I asked. Young. Clueless. Guillible. Believing.

I never had to pose nude. I dropped him as my agent when I was 16, and after I talked to my photograper (the one who took all of my other photos for my ZED card) he denied what the agent had told me. "He's a pervert," he told me. "He's well known as someone who likes to screw all of the new models. Stay away from him."

I did.

Why Do People Take Advantage of Others?


Posted by Jaimie :: 7:17 PM :: 12 Peeked Into My Diary:

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