Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Naughty Princess



In my freshmen year of college I met a young woman from Anaheim, California.

Within the first day of my newfound friendship, she shared with me that on the weekends she worked at Disneyland as a "sweeper", you know--the teenagers with a small broom and a metal dustbin, busily sweeping up others' trash.

"It's really boring," she told me. "What I really want to do at Disneyland is be Cinderella. I mean, I have the blonde hair and blue eyes. I want to be Cinderella! Doesn't that sound like a great life?"

Actually, it did. She would be able to walk around Disneyland all day, pretending to be a very popular princess. Girls would love her, look up to her, and mimic her every move.

What kind of princess would I make? Unfortunately, Disney doesn't have too many princesses with dark curly hair and brown skin, except for Jasmine...but I don't find Aladdin attractive and that Genie would get on my nerves after a while.

And besides, I would be a very naughty princess. They definitely would have to lock me in a tall tower, cut off my hair, feed me a poisoned apple, and put me into a deep sleep for 100 years.

When you were young, who was your favorite princess/cartoon character?



Posted by Jaimie :: 7:58 AM :: 19 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

RED FLAGS

I will be moving soon. Life is hectic and busy (in other words, I have no time for this blogging business). So, in desperation, I have done a REPOST. I picked one that many seemed to enjoy, and one that everyone can relate to. If you don't hear from me in a while, trust that James has not thrown me into the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but rather I am lost among cardboard boxes. Enjoy! And I will read all of your comments...cross my fingers...

Here's me, in my prom picture. The year was 1994, and my prom date was a Loser.

I met him the summer before senior year of high school at a restaurant in Beverly Hills. After a few dates he told me he was in love with me, but he was going to Japan, where he would be stationed for a year. Red Flag: Never believe a man who says he loves you, and then leaves the country.

He wrote almost every day, and called me quite often. He promised that he would return in May, just for my prom-and he did-unfortunately.

He showed up at my house with his mom, sister, and camera in tow. Red Flag: Never date a man who is a mama's boy. This was fine, except we were running late and I was supposed to meet my friends outside of the hotel in downtown LA where the prom was held. I forced a smile for his mother's camera flash about 50 times, before I asked, "So, where's the limo?" "Oh, I didn't get a limo," he said hastily. "We're taking my sister's Honda." Red Flag: Never date a man who doesn't get a limo on your big night.

His sister's Honda was about 7 years old and dusty. "Well, make sure you park underground so no one sees me," I said, frowning, staring at the car before me. "Oh, and before we get there, stop at the liquor store so I can get some wine."

"What?" he asked increduosly. "What do you need wine for?" Red Flag: Never date a man who won't let you drink wine. "What do you mean, 'what do I need wine for?' This is my prom! Pull into the liquor store!" He rolled his eyes at me and muttered something under his breath, but he did what he was told.

20 minutes later (because it only takes 20 minutes to get anywhere in LA) we were at the hotel. My friend Brandy was outside, waiting for me. "Hey, girl." "Hi!" I said waving, walking towards her. Loser stayed behind, staring at me. "Get over here," I said. "I want you to meet Brandy." "Hi," he mumbled. Red Flag: Never date a man who doesn't want to meet your friends.

As soon as we got into the hotel I wanted to dance. "Come on, let's dance," I begged. "I don't like this song," he complained. Five minutes later, when a song came on I thought he would like, he said "I don't like this one either." Red Flag: Never date a man who doesn't dance. Finally, after growing tired of sitting, I said,"Well if you won't dance with me, I'll find someone who will!" I stood up dramatically and knocked the table a little bit. This was enough for Loser, who was quite jealous and possessive. "I'll dance with you," he said. Red Flag: Never date a man who is only interested in you when he thinks you might have sexual intercourse with another man.

It was now time for us to take our prom picture. "Can you try to look normal?" I asked. "I mean, can you at least try to make it look like you're having a good time with me in the picture?" "What do you mean?" he asked. "Wellll..." I said slowly. "Sometimes you look kinda retarded in pictures." "Just because you said that I'm going to fuck up your prom picture!" he said in a huff. Red Flag: Never date a man who makes idle threats.

I had no idea how he looked in the picture because my back was to him, but as the photographer's camera flashed I silently prayed that he didn't look like a retard. Once prom was over, I asked him where we were going next. "What do you mean, 'where are we going?'" he asked. "We're picking up take-out at Jerry's Deli and we're going back to your place! I already called and ordered it. Corned beef, right?" "Yuck! No! I hate corned beef! And I want to go out! Oh, never mind. Whatever." I silently fumed. Red Flag: Never date a man who doesn't know what you like to eat.

When we got back to my house my mom asked, "How was prom honey?" Before I could answer, he said, "It was great!" I glared at him and took my corned beef to my bedroom while he followed me in there. We spent the rest of the night eating on my floor and talking about-God-what did we talk about? Red Flag: Never date a man who only provides meaningless conversation.


Do not ignore Red Flags. They are quite informative, and if looked at in a different way, quite hilarious.

What's The Biggest Red Flag For You?

Posted by Jaimie :: 6:09 PM :: 54 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Saturday, February 18, 2006

Rally Cry From The Brick House



To Every Man Who Came At Me and My Girls With A Fumbling Pick-Up Line:

You're stupid.

There--I said it.

You go all goo-goo-ga-ga over us. We wear a short skirt and low cut top and you're falling all over yourselves. We dress like librarians with high heels, walk down the street with a strut, and you run your car into a tree.

I have been told by many a man "Damn, you're sexy."

Do you think that I want to have sex with you?

I've been told there is "something in the eyes." My eyes that is.

I can't help it that my mother and father had sex, created an embryo, which developed into a fetus, which became a live infant with slanted "bedroom eyes".

Believe me, I don't want to have sex with you.

Stop whistling at us. Stop making sex motions behind our backs. Stop staring at our breasts.

Come at us straight.

"Hello" is always a nice place to start.

What's the best/worst pick-up line you've heard (or said)?

My Personal Favorite: "Girl, God made you too beautiful to be looking so damn mean." Um, is that supposed to be a compliment?


Posted by Jaimie :: 7:05 PM :: 25 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Thursday, February 16, 2006

Sexiest (White) Man Alive


Technically, since I'm 1/2 white (plus a little Portuguese), I can date whomever I damn well please and shouldn't hear that I'm "dating interracial" or being a "sell out."

Yet, I still prefer black men.

But, if I didn't, and if I would be with a white man, this is it. This is who I want.

There is just something about Matthew that I find addicting. His smile, his swagger, his Texas accent.

He's gorgeous. He's sexy. He's so modest and wears his sexuality like an old, worn shirt. It just fits him.

Who is the sexiest man/woman alive (that is of a different race than your own)?

Posted by Jaimie :: 5:15 PM :: 43 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Dear Valentine

For some reason, unknown to us, God put us together.

And the truth is, I would have never known you if I hadn't been married to Nutcase. I would have never known you if I had decided to attend college in Atlanta instead of Los Angeles. I would have never known you if I had decided to become a teacher instead of a dancer.

I would have never known you at all if my father had never met my mother, and impregnated her with me.

You are more of a man than I have ever known. You are kind, forgiving, loving, intelligent, sensitive, tough, and you know how to rock a bed.

This is my love letter to you.

How Much Do You Love Me?

Posted by Jaimie :: 6:00 AM :: 14 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Saturday, February 11, 2006

Our Eyes Were Watching God




In high school, I read Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston. Actually, I was forced to read it in Honors English class.

My girlfriends and I made fun of the book. We made fun of the old Southern dialect. We didn't understand it. We didn't understand the main character, Janie, and all of her "man" problems. We were high school girls in California, with popular football-playing boyfriends.

Now, as an adult, I'm reading the book again. Loving the book, actually. Relating to Janie in ways I never could before.

One night, I was too tired to read the book. I wanted to, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I called James into the room.

"Will you read to me?" I asked.

"What do you want me to read?" he asked.

"Their Eyes Were Watching God."

He opened the book and began reading. He read to me about Tea Cake and Janie, about the one who finally loved her for who she was, and not for what she could bring to him. I fell asleep to James reading one of my favorite books to me, a book that I at first could not understand, and a book that I now consider an American classic.

What Is Your Favorite Book?


Posted by Jaimie :: 6:11 PM :: 30 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Floats Like A Butterfly, Stings Like A Bee


God, I loved you.

I saw you once. I went to a party. I actually ditched my own mother on Mother's Day to go to this party, just because I knew you would probably be there.

And there you were, standing in front of me, signing autographs for a bunch of young boys. I stopped and nearly fainted. I grabbed my friend's hand and said:

"Oh, my God. He's here."

"Where? Oh, shit, Jaimie."

We walked around you to take our seat at the table, but you never looked up. You were too busy being a nice guy to those kids.

During the event, while sitting at my table, I attempted to send you telepathic urges to look at me, the girl with the curly hair and tight black pants, sitting up to the left at the round table. But you never did. Probably all of the other ladies' telepathic messages were getting in the way of my own.

I mean, all of the ladies loved you. You were beautiful. You were talented. You were intelligent. You were so young.

When my girlfriend called me and said,

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Your boy's dead."

I could do nothing but drop the phone. I was in shock. We all were.

In my opinion, you were the greatest rapper of all time.

In my opinion...

You were the best.

Who Was/Is the Greatest Rapper of All Time?


Posted by Jaimie :: 6:30 PM :: 28 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Sunday, February 05, 2006

Drama Queen (And King)


Friday night James told me he was going to the video store.

"Get The Notebook," I told him.

He looked at me.

"Get it. Pleeeease!! Get it!"

"The Notebook?," he asked.

"Get it!" I insisted. "It's soooo good."

We watched the movie together. He said nothing the whole time.

The movie ended with me in tears and him saying, "Wow, that was good."

Movies are fantasies. Our lives aren't really like that.

Or are they?

James and I have been through a lot. He has been there for me through a lot of things, a lot of tears, a lot of laughs. And when I am sad, he is happy for the both of us. He has to be--he would hate to see me give up.

When we were laying in bed after the movie, I asked, "Would you do that for me? Like he did for her. Would you stay there and take care of me if I couldn't take care of myself anymore?"

"Yes," he answered, holding me closer. "This isn't a movie, a drama," he said, "But in a way, it is. We've been through a lot, and through it all, we'll always be together."

There's nothing better than LOVE.

Who Have You Loved? And did he/she know it?


Posted by Jaimie :: 2:44 PM :: 25 Peeked Into My Diary:

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Friday, February 03, 2006

Food Fight


I'm nice. But I'm not that nice.

Let's take the other day for example. I was at a very cheap, low quality restaurant (Sizzler-Seafood! Salad! Steak!). I was attempting to sit at a table, but I couldn't pull my chair out far enough to sit because a woman was sitting so far out, I couldn't get in.

"Excuse me?" I asked nicely. "Can you move in so that I can sit down?"

You would think I had asked the woman if I could borrow $2000 dollars based on the reaction I got: She dropped her fork on her plate with a large "clang", rolled her eyes at me, sighed loudly, and moved in a grand total of 1/2 an inch.

"You don't have to be rude. I asked you to move in. What's the big deal?" I asked loudly.

"Listen lady, I'm not being rude to you," she said with demon fire in her eyes.

"Really? Rolling your eyes at me isn't being rude?" I asked, with my face in front of hers.

I could see that it was about to get ugly and my 4 year old daughter was watching the whole thing with a large amount of interest (and not only that, but the woman was about twice my size). I moved to another table and told the waitress what happened.

"You want me to say somethin'?" she asked, hoping to start a fight.

"No, that's ok," I said.

"You sure? I don't mind," she responded, pulling up her shirt sleeves.

After convincing the waitress that I didn't need her to help me beat up the woman, she then told me that she never knew how rude people could be until she started working in the restaurant business.

When I got home I asked James if it was appropriate for me to say something. "Well, yeah," he said. "She should have moved."

I should have kicked her in the head.

Why are people so rude to one another?


Posted by Jaimie :: 6:08 AM :: 17 Peeked Into My Diary:

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