Santa Baby....

Dear Santa (is Santa OK? Do you want to be called Mr. Claus or perhaps Nick? Kris?)

Hi. This is Jaime. Remember me? I'm usually on the good list until my big mouth gets me in trouble? Yeah. That's the one.

I know it's been a while since I wrote and for that, I apologize. Are you on Facebook? 'Cause that would make communication so much easier. Just watch out for all those stupid third party add-ons. They can get annoying after a while.

Oh and as for the whole not leaving cookies out on Christmas Eve thing? I know it seems like a dick move, but I was actually looking out for you. I figure you probably eat somewhere in the neighborhood of 300,000 cookies on Christmas Eve. This can only lead to one thing:



Yeah. No bueno. Just ask Wilford Brimley.

See, I've got your back, Big Guy.

Anyway, this year -- I decided to put my wish list online to make life easier for you. Also, I've divided the list into two different categories:

- Boy, This Girl Asks For Some Ridiculous Shit
- Alright, That I Can Handle That...

You ready? Let's hit it.

Boy, This Girl Asks For Some Ridiculous Shit

- Front row tickets to Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden back in 1973 and a Delorean that enables me to time-travel there and back. Dude, come on. It's the concert from The Song Remains The Same.

- Front row tickets to see Stevie Ray Vaughan in concern and a Delorean that enables me to time-travel there and back. Word of warning, though? I'd probably tell him not to get on that helicopter which might cause a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space time continuum, and destroy the entire universe! Granted, that's a worse case scenario. The destruction might in fact be very localized, limited to merely our own galaxy.

- A sit down with Bob and Harvey Weinstein. What? I've got some ideas....

- Hair like Alessandria Ambrosio's. No roots, no touch-ups. Just killer hair like this. Every day. No flat iron, product or curling iron required.



Look, while we're giving out fantasy presents, can I just ask for a body like hers too? One that I don't have to work to maintain at all? 'Cause that would be sweet. If I could eat cheese fries and look like this, that would rock.



Don't tell Mrs. Claus...and you're welcome.

- I was going to ask for world peace but given the fact that the current president is an idiot of monumental proportions, I'm sure he'd screw it up in a second and therefore, squander your gift. I also thought about asking you to fix the economic crisis but again, I'm sure they'd find a way to bollocks it all up before December 26th, so never mind.

Anyway, let's get to small stuff, shall we?

Alright, I Can Handle That...



This necklace. It's cute, quirky, super-affordable and available here.

That's it. See, I'm relatively easy to please!

Anyway -- fly safe and watch out for low-flying aircraft! Merry Christmas!

Lots of love:

Jaime xx

Happy Thanksgiving!

Miss Jaime's Annual List of Ridiculous Stuff She's Ridiculously Thankful For:

 

- My flat-iron. It keeps my hair shiny and straight and thus helps me maintain some semblance of sanity.

- Google. Oh my God, I love Google! Reader, Docs, Search, Chat, iGoogle. I have never more wanted to full-on make out with an inanimate entity. Love it, love it, love it.

- Almost Famous. The name of my blog is ripped off from the movie, it features breakthrough performances from pretty much every cast member, I find Jason Lee inexplicably hot as Jeff Bebe (sidebar: Do musicians have a tendency to aesthetically emulate Jesus because they have messiah complexes? Discuss), it's heart-wrenching and funny and sad and well-written and beautiful and the music. The music. What do I love about the music? In a word, everything. It's perfect.

- Wawa. The glory of the mid-Atlantic states. Saturday mornings were made for Wawa coffee.

- Illy coffee. One sip and you'll feel like you're being kissed by God. Man, I am all about the smooching and blasphemy today.

- New York City. I fell in love after my first visit. It's an incredible place and I can't wait to go back! I've already decided what I must do on my next visit -- Breakfast at Les Halles and lots of quality time in the Village.

- Lost, Doc Johnson's weekly recaps at ew.com and the fact that it's coming back in January!!

- C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve. It makes me feel pretty...and well moisturized. 

- Ron Livingston. What? I saw Relative Strangers last night and he was really cute and funny. Let's also be thankful that I'll never meet Mr. Livingston because this will spare me the humiliation of morphing into a complete blushing, babbling idiot.

- The way my nieces run. Avery's run is a full-throttle burst of speed while Livi's is more of a prancing princess movement. Both of them are ridiculously cute and I couldn't love them more.

- My favorite blogs -- Caffeinate Me, Pajiba, Heartless Doll, Mixtape Therapy, Starting Over At 24, Made By Girl and NPR's Monkey See to name a few.

- Good pizza, homemade chips and salsa, big-ass fruity margaritas, avocados, cheese, mangoes, Greek salad, Dr. Prager's veggie burgers, patatas bravas, garlic bread, bread in general, actually, really good extra virgin olive oil, Mom's Indian food, dark chocolate, Diet Coke and vanilla lattes. What? I like food.

- The last season of Angel. Actually, every season of Angel 'cause that show was amazing and the fact that it was cancelled only proves that network execs are even more soulless than Angelus. On that note, I am thankful for the After The Fall graphic novel series.

- Tetris. It's a classic and has been proved to lead to more efficient brain activity while playing. I am also (grudgingly) thankful for the fact that the game is firewalled at work because it would lead to a serious nosedive in productivity on my part. Good looking out, Corporate America!

- The Great Gatsby. I've been carrying around a copy in my purse and it's a pearldiver. You dive into it at any given point and surface with something truly beautiful.

- You. Whether you read my blog regularly or just popped in because you did a Google Search on 'Ellen Pompeo Naked' (FYI: Sorry guy, but if it's nudes you're looking for, you're looking in the wrong spot), I appreciate you taking the time out. Thanks!

 

What are you thankful for? I'd love to know.

 

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Pretty as a picture, stubborn as a mule

Dan loves movies.

We met via his website dedicated to screenwriter Kevin Williamson, in college, he majored in film, worked for Williamson one summer and first three sites he checks online are Gmail, Aintitcoolnews.com and Boxofficereport.com.

I'm a bit of a movie fan too. I minored in cinema studies, can rattle off arcane trivia about assorted films and if prompted, can probably quote 85% of the dialogue from the Back To The Future trilogy (Dan can quote 100% which is why he is my hero).

We are movie geeks and that being the case, Dan and I have established a pick system in our house when it comes to watching movies. The rules are simple:

+ Alternating picks for each respective party.
+ If the movie in question is something both parties wish to view, it is a joint pick and therefore, is not subject to the rules of the pick system.
+ If either party wishes to concede their pick, they do so at their own risk.

+ Each party is allowed one permanent veto. Mine is Gremlins; Dan's is Dirty Dancing.

Despite the obvious simplicity of the pick system, movie night at our house is never easy. Case in point, last night:

Dan: It's my pick.
Jaime: I know, I know.

Dan: I'm thinking Rudy. It's a good fall football mo...Why are you making that face?

Jaime: What face?
Dan: That face. You'll like Rudy. It's a good movie.
Jaime: Yeah but I saw a bit on TV and his buddy dies and I don't want to spend the whole night bummed 'cause some fictional steel mill worker ate it.
Dan: Firstly, he's not fictional and secondly, it's not sad! It's uplifting!
Jaime: Yeah, but....
Dan: You like Sean Astin, you like football, you like Jon Favreau. Trust me, you'll like this movie.
Jaime: Yeah....
Dan: Fine! Fine! Pick a hand - left or right.
Jaime: Left
[Dan fidgets with his hands behind his back in a blatantly obvious move to switch DVDs around]
Dan: Rudy! Ha!
Jaime: You switched them! You're cheating!
Dan: Even if I did, it doesn't matter because it's my pick!

Damn him and his use of logic.

Now, imagine going through this every fifth time you wanted to watch a movie. I don't know how he puts up with it. Oh wait. Yes I do. It's because I never make him watch pablum like 27 Dresses or Made of Honor.

Anyway, last night we ended up watching Rudy. And just like with Jaws and The Prestige and about twenty other movies Dan has recommended and I've fought him on, he was right -- Rudy is a pretty good movie. Actually, it's a classic feel-good movie and what feels even better is that it's based on a true story and that men like Daniel 'Rudy' Ruettiger really do exist.

Not to get all Sean Hannity here (sidebar: I am officially old. I know this because I listen to Hannity on my drive home and spend a good half-hour yelling at the radio. I'm at a loss when it comes to guys like Hannity and Limbaugh, but the words, 'steaming sacks of shit' do come to mind), but I was struck at just how American Rudy is.

On the surface, Rudy is a movie about football -- a sport that very few besides Americans actually care about. The rest of the world may kick around a soccer ball, but that means nothing to the millions of Americans who spend their Sunday screaming at the running back to make it into the end zone. On a much deeper level though, Rudy is about the promise of America. the fulfillment of the American Dream and that inexorable Algerian ideal that if you work hard, if you sweat and bleed and really want something, it'll be yours.

Where else in the world would a story like Rudy's even be possible? Ever since he was a kid, Rudy was told he couldn't -- couldn't play football, couldn't go to Notre Dame. He believed these people. Listened to them and then, one day -- he decided he didn't want to do that anymore. Where else in the world could a man like Rudy live his dream? Only in America.

I straddle the line between naif and cynic and much like Fox Mulder, I want to believe.

I want to believe in the promise of America and a part of me does but I'm smart enough to know that for every Rudy, there's an executive with a golden parachute who made out like a bandit while his company (and lower-level employees) withered and died.

I want to believe that dogged determination and hard work lead to success, but I think I've seen one too many fourteen-year-old girls prancing around with designer handbags that cost more than my rent.

You get older and the world tries to beat you down and cynicism pervades all too easily. I guess that's one of the reasons I'm so thoroughly enamored with movies. They serve as reminders that hope is never lost. Rudy always runs out of the tunnel clad in gold and blue, George McFly always punches Biff and kisses Lorraine at the Enchantment Under The Sea dance, Andy Dufresne always ends up a free man in Mexico and if they can, you can too. When you've got nothing else, you've always got hope.

I am not responsible for Dream Feeny!

I once had a dream in which The Best Friend was a complete jerk to me. I woke up angry at him and treated him thusly by shooting him dirty looks and making him suffer through the silent treatment. Bewildered by my simmering rage, he asked what was wrong and I told him.

"You've been mad at me all day about that?! That's insane! I have no control over your dreams!"

"Whatever, dude," I said countering with an obviously brilliant argument. "You were an asshole."

"You're being an asshole now! And we're both awake!"

Damn him and his use of logic.

Anyway, the situation resolved itself relatively quickly and everything went back to normal.

Two nights ago, I had a dream about Ron Livingston.


I'll take things I'd hit like a bag of hammers for $800, Alex....

Usually, I'm a big fan of these dreams for obvious reasons but this last one? Yeah, not so much. Dream Livingston was such a jerk! He spilled hot coffee on me and basically acted like a frat boy, the morning after.

I woke up and told Dan about this. Usually when I tell Dan about these dreams, his eyes narrow, his hand balls up into a fist and he shakes it at the sky while yelling, "Damn you, Livingston!" but this time, he burst out in raucous, gleeful laughter.

Yet another reason I'm glad I'll never meet the guy. 'Cause if I do, I'll be the asshole who blurts out, "Man, you were such a dick in my dream!"

In news that detracts from the fact that I am utterly unhinged:

Top Chef's fifth season premiered last night. As par for the course, it's still a little too early to tell who the fan favorites will be but I'm guessing Richard's a pretty strong contender. I can respect anyone who discloses a crush on Tom Colicchio.

As for the other cheftestants, they seem fairly interesting but I can't see anyone bringing the drama like Marcel and Ilan did in season two.

Ilan: You know what's really funny, Marcel? The first day I got here, I've been wanting to smack you across the face. Why don't you fucking go to a new school, learn some shit, go to France, go to Spain, go travel, go relax, go learn how to use some fucking salt, paprika, come back to me, you know, come to New York, maybe I'll show you how to cook a little bit? I'll show you how to grill something. But until then, shut the fuck up, keep making your foams and go cry in a corner!

Cooking is serious business, y'all.

Yes We Can

One day, Dan and I will have children (Calm down, Mom. It's not happening for another five years). Cute little Indian-Irish babies with blue eyes and skin the color of caramel.

Because I am thoroughly neurotic, I worried about that.

Silly really, considering that there are more biracial people around today than there were when I was born and that in a good majority of the country, the color of a person's skin isn't even an afterthought.

I'm lucky enough to have never been a victim of overt racism. A couple of dirty looks shot in my direction and one encounter a few years ago when a 13-year-old referred to me as a 'cockroach', but apart from that, nothing too vicious.

As minor as these incidents may have been, I didn't want my children growing up in a world where this stuff still happens. Being loathed for something you have no control over, be it sexual orientation, race or gender, is a really unsettling experience and something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I didn't want my children to grow up in a world where the American Dream and the Algerian ideal of, "You can be anyone your heart desires, as long as you're willing to work hard for it" come with fine print:

"Offer may not apply everywhere or to everyone. You've got a good shot if you're a white Anglo-Saxon male but if not, don't even think about it. Seriously, you'll just end up disappointed."

Where the gallows humor of, "The only way a black man can become president is if he's running against a Mexican" is a true statement. Where what you look like or who you love takes precedence over intellect, determination, skill and hard work.

The American Dream became The American Reality with the election of Barack Obama as 44th president.

It's a good feeling to know that one day, I'll be able to tell my kids that they really can be anything they want to be and have it be the truth as opposed to a fevered, naively optimistic wish.

Congratulations to Barack Obama and Joe Biden -- the president and vice-president elect of the United States of America.

Sidebar: Personally, I believe Sarah Palin isn't qualified to be a QVC Spokesperson much less vice-president of the country but the villification of Sarah Palin by angry McCain/Palin staffers is uncalled for and only proves that they were lying to the American people all along. John McCain's concession speech on Tuesday night exemplified class and grace. It's a shame the staffers can't follow his lead. And on a related note, are you kidding me about Africa ? I mean, really? My niece knows that Africa is a continent....and she's not even four! Jesus, lady! You've got kids -- watch The Lion King or Madagascar or something...