All for one and none for me

Someone ate my frozen Three Musketeers bar.

Heads will roll, I say. Heads will roll.

This is the guy behind the guy behind the guy.

Swingers is one of my favorite movies -- solid all the way around. Good plot, pacing and cinematography. Excellent and realistic dialogue. Good character development, a killer soundtrack, high quotability and Ron Livingston [shut up -- I have a little jones]
Love it.

Searching for 'Swingers Movie' images on Yahoo!, however? Not so much. A girl shouldn't be confronted with that many penii all at once. It's startling.

Anyway, I'm re-watching the movie and I came to a couple of conclusions:

• Women are exponentially hotter now than they were back in 1996. Granted, there's that weird clone thing going on where a good majority of them have orange 'Oompa Loompa' skin, fake breasts and cocaine nosejobs, but they're still hotter.
• Smoking a cigar can make any putz look cool. Don't listen to your mom and dad, kids. Smoking is cool.
• Ditto booze. Just make sure you order something cool like a Whiskey Sour and not, say...an Appletini.
• Things have changed since '96. Now, most men wanna roll business-class [which is fine by me 'cause little brown girls are often draggin' a wagon].
  
• Post-adolescent dating is tough.

See, in high school -- it's a piece of cake. A little algebra, a little feelski behind the bleachers, a break-up punctuated by banal and depressing music and you're onto the next suitor.

Post high-school? It's like trying to find sense in Britney Spears' marriage -- damn near impossible [Why K-Fed?! I mean, even if he's hung like a whale -- he looks like a herpes ranch].

One of the reasons post-adolescent dating is so complicated is due to sex. After high school, sex becomes way more prevalent. It's a lot easier to bring someone home when you don't have to worry about sneaking them past your mom's bedroom. Besides, people are more willing to sleep with someone who doesn't have a retainer. That's a fact, you know. It's been proven by scienticians.

Another reason high school dating is considerably easier than post-adolescent dating is because the words, "Where is this going?" rarely come up. In high school, if you and your significant other make it to homecoming, you've become the golden couple of your high school -- a teenage Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee [What? You try naming a couple who've been together as long as they have]. Although some may have those fluffy fantasies that they're going to be with their BF 4-EVA and get married and live the happily ever after -- most of us are smart enough to realize that this is definitely not the case.

Dating after the legal drinking age is kind of like....well, remember in Peter Pan, how you could tell the proximity of the crocodile based on the volume of the ticking clock? Yeah...it's kind of like that. The louder the sound, the closer the danger. The future gets closer.

You know what I want to do? Go on a date. Like a real, legitimate actual date. Where you dress up and the guy picks you up and he brings flowers. You go out to eat and he opens doors and pulls out chairs. You make that awkward conversation at first, but then, kinda ease into a groove. He pays for dinner and he drops you off at your door and wants a goodnight kiss, but doesn't expect it.

That's it. Nothing spectacular. Just your boiler-plate date. Simple, right? Well, as simple as it is -- I've never done it.

That's actually a lie. Every now and then, I'll drag the Best Friend out on one of those expeditions, but that doesn't count because A) a real date doesn't have to be Shanghai'd/cajoled into it and B) I can make awkward first-date conversation for about three minutes before I launch into some story about how I saw a dude at the bank who looked just like Rowdy Roddy Piper.

Does anyone even do this anymore or has it been replaced with the 'group hang' or, for the more promiscuous, sex?

In other news:

• Today consists of nothing more than a Laguna Beach marathon and iced decaf mochas. Team LC all the way.
• Back to Orlando tomorrow. I can't wait to hit up the gym, the pool and have access to my music library again.
• The laptop might just be the greatest invention ever. I am in love with my sister's laptop -- it's got a big screen, it's practically weight-less and I love the fact that I can blog and watch Laguna Beach at the same time.
• I need a pair of super comfy yoga pants and new tank tops. I think I'm gonna have to spend some quality time at Forever XXI.

Congratulations to my sister and the class of 2006.

Love/Hate letter to Fox Broadcasting

Dear Fox:

We've got a tumultuous relationship. You beat me black and blue and break my heart [Get Real, Greg The Bunny, Arrested Development and Tru Calling], but then, you make it up to me, promising you'll never do it again.
I know you're a liar [Party of Five] but like a sucker -- I keep running back to you. That being said, I'll be back in your arms this fall thanks to this.



You could have bought me flowers. You could have written me a love letter, but instead -- you're giving me a full hour of Ron Livingston on Tuesday nights.
Baby, all is forgiven. Seriously.

However, if you cancel this show for reruns of So, You Think You Can Cross-Stitch or some other equally insipid reality show, I'll be forced to toss all your possessions out of the window and set your car on fire. Capisce?

See you in September.

Love:

Jaime xo

P.S: Hook a sister up. You know this boy like some caramel in his milk.

Congratulations Dana & Steve!

Congratulations to Dana and Steve on their engagement. I can't envision two people more perfect for one another.

Here's to your happily-ever-after.

Love you both and concerning the wedding? Two words: open bar :)

Your shadow weighs a ton

So, I knew it was coming, but still, I am shocked. It seemed somewhat....thrown together? In all honesty, I expected her to get into a knock-down drag-out fight with Julie and overdose on coke. It would have made more sense considering Marissa's addictive personality. I really liked the interspersing of images from the first season. Ryan carrying Marissa from the wreck coupled with the image of him carrying her in Mexico was just beautiful. Good cinematography.

However, night-time soaps are pretty sneaky, sis. Especially the ones on Fox. Remember Melrose Place when Kimberly came back with those insane stitches on her head? Who the hell could have ever predicted that?! The ending was left pretty ambiguous and Marissa might have lapsed into a coma, for all we know.

Either way, I can't wait for next season when Ryan hunts down Volchok. He's sexy when he's mad and beating someone to a bloody pulp. He's also sexy when he's happy, brooding, talking, eating and basically, displaying any sort of basic motor function. In addition to Ben McKenzie's remarkable ability to ignite my libido, I also appreciated:

+ Seth and Summer are cuter than a puppy snuggling with a bunny rabbit. Playing in a box together only furthered this notion.
+ Ryan calling Summer a, 'biatch.' I haven't heard that word in forever.
+ The music. This show is definitely ahead of the curve, sonically and has introduced me to so much good music [Rogue Wave, for example. Love them]. Love-love-love Kelis and if Mini Cooper's addition to the show means mo' betta hip-hop, I won't mind it so much.

Despite criticisms that the show has jumped the shark, I'm still emotionally invested. That being the case -- if Josh Schwartz ever wants to hire another ethnic love interest for Ryan ['cause we all know that boy likes a little caramel in his milk], I'm free. Just sayin'.

P.S. -- To the person/people who have been leaving really sweet anonymous comments, thanks :)

Child-proof is pretty much synonymous with idiot-proof

Child-proof cap: 1
Jaime: 0

The battle rages on...

You got that top pulled down and that radio on, baby

Smoldering summer nights where the air wraps around you like a thick blanket are best spent driving.

Open windows, backroads and music. Sometimes, you have to get lost to find yourself.

It's easy to forget who you are and get lost in the parts of your sum. You become fractured and fragmented -- like shards of shattered glass, you reflect tiny pieces and not the whole image.
You become the girlfriend, the boyfriend, the employee, the student, the roommate, the friend, the ex, the daughter, the son, the father....all of these things that are part of you, but don't fully define you.

I don't go looking for myself. Half the time, I don't even know I'm lost due to all the static in my head -- stupid, celebrity gossip, songs I want to download, inane trivia, namesdatesplacestimes, questions I want to ask, information I need to Wiki [despite public opinion, porn, Chuck Norris facts and the O Rly Owl aren't the best thing to spring from the web -- information is], words I want to write and wish I wrote...

I seem to end up finding myself when I least expect it. Like discovering $20 in a jacket you forgot you loved.

It's easy to get lost, but luckily for me, it's also easy to be found.

A few more miles on the odometer, a couple of yellow lights to make wishes under and honeyed guitar strings to guide me back home.

In other news:

• Dan made me the most amazing mix CD. Citizen Cope, The Stones, Zeppelin, Everclear [♥], Radiohead, The Faces. It's one of those rare, stellar mixes that you listen to and love every song. So, not only does Dan have the best taste in movies, but he also has the best taste in music. I might just have to make out with him.
• Speaking of music, I've had Panic! At The Disco's I Write Sins, Not Tragedies stuck in my head for three days now.
• I saw the coolest thing on MTV and am having the hardest time trying to convince myself that it wasn't a dream. It was like Video DJing where one clip effortlessly melted into another. The Killers' All These Things I've Done morphed into Friday, I'm In Love by The Cure. It was awesome and I really hope MTV brings good music back to TV. If I have to see one more show about some silly sixteen-year-old dyeing her poodles pink, I'm gonna beat the girl to death with an imitation Louis Vuitton.
• I totally lied. Chuck Norris Facts is indeed, the greatest invention ever. My favorite ones are, "Chuck Norris can hit you so hard that he can actually alter your DNA. Decades from now your descendants will occasionally clutch their heads and yell, 'What The Hell was That?'" and "When Chuck Norris works out at Total Gym, Total Gym feels like its been raped."
• I'm thisclose to having a stroke. Seriously -- any more agitation today and a blood vessel is gonna pop.

That, my friends, is one nerdy honky

Dorky white guys of the world, rejoice! Your time has finally come. Though you were once castigated for your love of comic books and/or video games and your inability to play sports, this is now, nothing more than a fleeting, shadowy memory.
First it was the designer purse. Then, the runty anklebiter and now? You are just not cool unless you have a dorky white guy hanging from your arm.
Case in point -- Christina Aguilera, Christine Taylor and Rachel Bilson. All are exponentially hotter than their significant others.

Dorky is the new sexy.....as long as you don't launch into tirades about D&D. The kind of girls you want to date aren't impressed with the fact that you're a dungeon master. Trust me on this one.

I was talking to the best friend about this and he said excessive gaming leads to incredible dexterity of the digits and well...you can fill in the blanks.

Speaking of, how did Adam Brody become the breakout sex symbol of The O.C.? Especially over Ben McKenzie? I would defile Ben McKenzie in ways I'm almost ashamed to admit. Adam Brody? I'd probably just kick his ass in Mario Kart.

In other news:

Lots of travelling lately -- I was in the Bahamas on the 5th [pictures to come soon], I'm going back to Orlando on the 15th, Camping with the Crew in Ocala on the 20th, West Palm on the 21st for Sparky's graduation and then, maybe a week in San Jose, California. I think I'm going to need a bigger memory card for my camera.

Darth Smashy. Even though I hate it when people dress up their dogs, this is just awesome.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers video for Dani California is amazing. If anyone can cover sixty years of rock history, it's definitely the Chili Peppers. Question for the masses: How come the Chili Peppers aren't played on classic rock radio and REM is? Both released their debut albums in 1983. My obsession with rock minutae is sad, impressive and a little unnerving.

Question for the masses: How old do you have to be before your life starts feeling like it belongs to you?

You're a much better parent - no borders, no limits, oh go ahead, touch the Cornballer...

I'm spending quality time with the family in West Palm until about next week. In addition to hanging out with the family, my life has consisted of the following:

Books: Without sounding like Vince's completely metally-deficient, yoga instructor girlfriend in Entourage, I finally got around to reading the last Harry Potter book. I was surprised by the fact that I liked it. Well-written with numerous references to literature, philosophy, mythology, history and religion. Pretty heavy stuff for a children's book. I also re-read Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal and Kick Me: Adventure in Adolescence by Paul Feig [of Freaks and Geeks fame]. Both were uproariously funny and actually made me laugh out loud. Always the sign of a good read.

Movies: The 40-Year Old Virgin is hands-down one of my favorite movies and a rarity that gets better with repeated viewings. I rate comedies by quotability. The more you find yourself repeating lines from the movie, the funnier it is. Much like Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, The 40-Year-Old Virgin is one of those movies you can quote in any given situation. I've been spouting the, "You know how I know you're gay...?" dialogue for days now.
Another fantastic movie I got a chance to re-watch this past week was Oliver Stone's JFK. Now, I know that Stone likes to attract controversy and you can't take the movie too seriously and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, but it's a damn good film and one that makes you think. So, was there a conspiracy to assassinate JFK? There's too much damning evidence to believe otherwise. If you want to read something truly eye-opening, track down anything Bob Harris has said on the topic. He's been researching the assassination for some time and knows his stuff.

Panini: One of the greatest things my dad ever invested in was a panini press. Technically, it's a glorified grilled-cheese sandwich, but as far as I'm concerned -- it's manna from the heavens.

Illegal Immigration: Numerous debates about this have already raised my blood pressure immensely, so all I'm going to say is that sometimes, the Republicans really know what they're talking about.

The Dangers of the Internet: Although I have one and use it constantly, I abhor MySpace. Not only has it contributed to the complete annihilation of the English language [Why in God's name do people replace 'y' with 'ii'? It makes no sense! Not only is it more work, but it looks asinine], but it is a stalker search-engine. Especially when you consider just how much information can be extracted from a MySpace page. Five minutes and you have a name, a school address and a photograph. That's scary stuff.
I was watching a Dateline report about this last night and it freaked me out. Men would actually drive hundreds of miles, condoms in pocket, to meet up with what they believed were teenagers. All of them denied anticipating sexual relations, but who wouldn't when confronted with Chris Hansen and a camera crew? Not surprisingly, the deviants from Florida were the worst. One even brought along his five-year-old son! What do you expect from the U.S's most phallic-shaped state?

Boy Meets World: Did anyone else know that Shawn's real mom was a stripper and not Verna? Shocking.