Archive for February, 2008|Monthly archive page

In Uncategorized on February 25, 2008 at 6:20 am

She stares back at me. Blinks once slowly before looking down into the sink. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but a few strands of hair have escaped to fall around her bangs. She looks up again to meet my eyes.

She’s me.

Older. Smile lines crease her cheeks that have grown full. I’m gripping the sink of a strange bathroom, not one in New Jersey, not one I grew up with. It’s fresh looking with a wide open window that blows in the Spring air, ruffling the thin, white curtains.

It feels like Easter. I’m wearing a light green sun dress with a white, half sweater over it. It’s cool, breezy, nice.

One of my hands is gripping the sink, the other holding my stomach tight. I’ve been standing there staring for hours it seems. It seems like I’ve been crying, my eyes are red, puffy, my lips drawn straight, a bit lifeless.

It’s gone, I can feel it.

Before I know it, the realization hits me too hard, down to my knees I fall. Crying into my hands, I kneel folded on the floor.

His hand touches my shoulder. Soon I can feel his body behind me, on the floor with my crumpled body. His lips pressed to my ear, but I can’t hear him. It’s gone.

…Now only if I can stop dreaming about it.


Miles of Smiles

In Uncategorized on February 20, 2008 at 9:08 pm

It’s almost
sixth sense,
the way
I think
of you.
Someone can
or say something
you would say,
and, suddenly,
you’re in
my thoughts
I like that.
It means
you can
make me
even when
you’re far
away. ❤

I understand you’re gay, but it doesn’t mean our love can’t be..

In Uncategorized on February 19, 2008 at 7:05 am

I’m in love with Jay Mccarroll!

This season has been going on forever! It’s been like nine months! I could have conveived in that amount of time. Let’s be done with this season and move on to Top Chef Miami, okay? Okay!

Jay quotes! It makes me miss the old days of season one. I appreciate you, Jay.. enough to make a blog post about your blog posts.. That’s LOVE.

[On the models in season one..]

they ended up looking like cave women who were forced into the seedy world of porn from high fashion modeling. that really does happen apparently. i think i saw it on sally jesse once.

[On Epi. 2’s budget]

i think i paid $10 to fart at mood once. all i can suspect now is that there will be a lot of “favors” being “handed” out between the designers and the hot guys that work there.

[On Ricky’s obsessive crying]

can someone please get that ricky character a pill, a drink, some smoke…..something. the girl’s panties are wedged so far up her crack she done cryin’ again. where zulema. where’s my girl zulema. zulema be like “ricky stop bein’ a pussy. you gonna cry…you cry and draw….i don’t care if you cry. cry and draw” ahhhh zulema. hero!

[On Tim]

tim comes in to offer some catch phrases.

[On Marion/Steven’s look for SJP]

pan down to the belt. we’re good…we’re good. now the…my god, what the chico’s is it? fringe city of all nations!

Meet me in hell. I’ll be the one wearing pasties & a pair of assless chaps..

In Uncategorized on February 16, 2008 at 8:39 pm

I’m going to hell.

It’s a given. Today though, I sealed the deal.

This morning I went to Starbucks after my seven minutes in heaven with my lover Target and got a Tall Vanilla Latte, skim milk, sugar free syrup. It’s not bad enough Starbucks is putting a strain on my wallet with their four dollar plus drinks, they feel the need to strain the very moral fibers that make me.. well, me. This, I didn’t respond to very well.

Every 20 minutes – less time than it will take to drink your coffee-
another child is diagnosed with autism. It’s much more common
than people think, with one out of every 150 children diagnosed.

“So I should invest in Adderall stock?”
Yeah, straight to hell, I get it.

It gets me that these big corporations, Starbucks especially, can try to force guilt on me. Autism is a horrible disease plain & simple. When I substituted I did most of my work in the Special Needs classrooms, so I got to watch it with my own eyes. Most of the parents don’t know how to care for a disease like Autism, not many doctors do either. It’s an enigma in the medical world. So it’s easy to see the fear, the pain, the stress, the sheer exhaustion in the parents eyes from having to care for a child with such a disease. That should change someone’s life, not the side of a coffee cup.

If you’re going to care, do it for yourself, don’t be guilted into.. caring! It’s just like the Salvation Army bell ringers. Yea, we see them at Christmas and always feel the obligation to drop our change in the bucket, but what about the rest of the year? It’s easy to forget. The Salvation Army is an amazing organization that provides jobs for thousands upon thousands of mentally handicapped individuals. They give the best gift of all, a life. Not money, not free hand outs, not a pat on the head. It makes me think of the saying “If you give a man a fish, he can live for a day. If you teach a man to fish, he can live for a lifetime.” Or whatever..
It’s funny that I even paid attention to the side of my coffee cup, a coincidence really. Since I haven’t been working, I’ve been looking for a charity to get involved with. It seems like I’ve been saying this for years, but I do need to get back into volunteer work. Living in such a declining town you’d think there would be more organizations popping up, but there isn’t.

A few years back I went through the interview process of becoming a Big Sister, but my time constraints at the time kept me from being assigned. They tell you they don’t want you to become a “baby sitter” for these kids, but you’re supposed to come pick them up and take them somewhere at least three to four times a week. I understand being involved.. being a mentor, but.. that to me sounds like a baby sitter.

I’d love to be in a child’s life and make a difference. I’d like to believe I’ve made a difference in some kids lives already, but I only have a half a year to build with them, I want a child (that isn’t my own) who I can have a lot less boundaries. That I can take out to the beach or go watch their school plays. To take to local events, share a book with outside of school, to just sit & talk with.

A lot of times I don’t credit my mom with a lot of my development, but I know if I did need her, she was always there. She was always at my school functions, always ready with a hug or kiss, always willing to listen (even if she butts in her opinions a lot), and just.. there! So many kids I saw go through the CFC had absent parents. They were cared for physically, but not emotionally or even mentally. My mom always read to me or read with me and that’s become a huge part of my life to this day. The same thing with cooking. The people I cherish the most in my life don’t necessarily need to be “amazing” people, but they are amazing to me because they were always there willing to love me when I needed it.

Yadda, yadda. Wow, how did this get sentimental?

As far as charity work I considered doing the 3-day walk in Philadelphia as a sponsor or a hand at the event. The runners have to raise over $1k before they can run. I’m no good at asking people for donations, see above. I’ve thought of the Bayshore Discovery Project, but I don’t know how much I’d like going out on the boat.

The biggest obstacle is my self-worth.. again! It’s just I don’t know if I’m strong enough or I have enough to offer to these people. Sure, I could just volunteer at The Bridge or the Salvation Army selling clothes, but I actually want to be one-on-one with people. Maybe I can find my strength by being strong for them. I’d love to get involved with the CC Sexual Assault Program, but we’ll see. The Gabriel Project? I don’t know.

I always say we’ll see, let’s hope I mean it.

In Uncategorized on February 9, 2008 at 2:10 am

Don’t watch romantic movies drunk.

My parents left for the weekend to see my aunt in Indiana, so the first thing I do is pour myself a drink. Just like I’m a teenager again dipping into their stash when they’re not looking. After today, I needed something to relax me a little. When I saw Richard Gere on TV, I had to stop in hopes it would be Pretty Woman. When I saw Jason Alexander pop up, I squealed in excitement & poured another drink.

It’s the way he looks at her. They emphasize it so greatly. The path of his eyes are always on her, in this dazed amazement. Like everything she does is new nature to him, that he’s never seen anyone do before. It made me a little teary, I have these days, where I want his touch. Just a touch. I might be quite sexually deprived, but that’s not what I want. Just a touch, a smile, a kiss. A long distance relationship neglects that.. but that’s all. I always back up over my words of worry & sadness. Why? Because every tear I have now, will make that first touch that much more insatiable. Not easier, just better.

Pretty Woman is such an amazing movie. My favorite scene is where they’re talking in the bathtub. A man who’s so closed, so cold to the world, opens to this woman. His hurt he shares with her, a total stranger. She washes him.. in more ways than one. It’s so amazingly intimate without being smut.

She’s so sassy, I love it! A rich man with a real woman. Perhaps that’s why it’s so wildly popular because most American women can see herself in her. A real girl who gets a break. This doesn’t happen in real life. You’re lucky just to find someone who understands you, who knows you..

I’m that lucky.

In Uncategorized on February 7, 2008 at 9:08 am

I’m waiting for my iPod to sync so I can finally go to bed.

Why am I writing so much!? It’s starting to annoy me that I’m becoming this daily blog subscriber. Gag.

Broadway singer.
School Counselor.
History Teacher.
PR Rep.
Criminal Psychologist.
House Flipper.
Social Worker.
History Teacher.

…Nashville Star Contestant?

Yea, I’m always becoming something, but I never have enough courage to ever become that.. something. So for once, I’m going to suck it up & do it. I’ll become something.. someday.

In Uncategorized on February 6, 2008 at 4:55 am

Dear elephant (that’s conveniently taken residence on my chest),

Okay. It’s not funny anymore, you can get up.

Yours truly,

Jamie Christa Marie Elizabeth Frost

How do I define myself? In my mind I open a book, turn the pages and there under “Jamie” is just smeared, blurred text. For so long I’ve wrote about how I want to find who I truly am, but that’s all my body will allow me to discover.. just the words.. the expression of wanting that discovery.

Who am I? I don’t know.

A lot of words that jump to my mind involve a physical image of myself. Perhaps that’s the best way to start understand who I am. What I feel & who I am might be different things, but it’s hard for me to pull that apart, it’s hard for me to see good inside this shell. I relax on the idea that I was punished in youth with being overweight, ackward, geeky, and.. not so groomed. Then I didn’t feel beautiful. Now I don’t feel beautiful.

I’m small. In the summer, when I run, I can even say I’m petite. This makes people call me cute. I’m pale and I burn easy, which makes my freckles even sharper. My nose is small, narrow and upturned slightly at the end. My lips are always in a smirk, not quite a smile, but at least a pleasant look. My whole body came in miniature size, right down to my size six feet. I’m cute. I get it.

I’m not beautiful.

Perhaps it’s just a stigma that I can blame on watching Tyra too often or on the media in general, but honestly.. who doesn’t want to feel beautiful? I’m sure I could create some small list of attributes that I could be positive about, but it’s just toppled over by the negatives weighing down in my mind.

I’m emotional.
I’m a woman, I’m “supposed” to be. No, wrong. I have hormones that force me to act like a crazy, rampant, teary eyed mess. Instead of crying when I got home yesterday, I cleaned. Sniffed, but cleaned. It scares me that I reverted into the shell I thought I broke, but it wasn’t a time to cry. Just like the doctor said, “It’s all in my head”… somewhere up there. Maybe this elephant is crushing the answer to my problem.

At least I’m evening out. Wow, how about I sound a little more like a junkie? An estrogen junkie. It makes me think of those rectangular plastic boxes with a substance that resembles lava lamp fluid. The ones you rock back and forth to make the movement of waves crash through the confines. When I was little, I used to shake them and send the liquid into a million separate bubbles. That, my friends, is my estrogen analogy. My bubbles are finally forming back into a whole person.

This disease irritates me. If I had to pick an emotion to describe it best, I’d say I’m angry with it. Where does it get off changing the whole schematic of Jamie! Last week I swear I was going bald. I’m just losing my hair all together instead of over a span of time. A hormonal problem. The pain, yeah.. I covered that. Hormonal problem. My one day I’m losing my pants. The next they look two sizes too small. It’s just a hormonal problem. My body hair is darker then it should be. I have to bleach. It’s a hormonal problem. Chronic tension headaches. Yep, hormonal problem. This elephant.. yeah, that too.

My name is Jamie Frost.

I’m five foot tall.
For the last four years I’ve been a constant one hundred and thirty pounds.
I have shoulder length chestnut hair.
My eyes match.
I get dark circles from allergies.
My eyebrows irk me because they grow back in so fast, I usually don’t do much about it, but bitch.
I’ve always wanted to get a nose job. It’s not necessary.
My freckles camp out on my nose & cheeks.
I’m pale as sin!
My lips are thin, so I can’t wear lipstick. Not a problem.
My teeth are straight, but have gaps. They’re definitely not as white as “they should be”.
Perhaps I’m partial to my smile, but I like it.
I touch my lips and the tip of my nose often.
I hide my face.
My ears exist.
34Cs + Natural = Naturally not as perky. Gravity, a friend of nature’s, should be a little nicer to natural.
I have stretch marks on the sides of my breasts, my hips, thighs, and under my arms. I was a fatty as a kid.
My hands always make me feel old.
I’m a lotion junkie. I turn the heat in my car up too high and too intense.
I bite my thumbs and index fingers, but the rest of my nails are awkwardly long.
I call everyone, “Woman”.
My legs aren’t short. My body, length wise, is in proportion.
My hips are curvy.
My tummy is soft. Two things I shouldn’t like, are two of the almost positive.
My feet are very petite.

Physical appearance is a hang up that I’d like to just, well, hang up on. Personality wise, I don’t think I’m a bad person. Perhaps a bit dry at times, a little hard to understand, a fumbler of words, but over all I’m just nice and warm. Not something you get from people very often. At work I get people who request me just from meeting me. Not to mention, I could literally sell milk to a cow.

In Uncategorized on February 5, 2008 at 12:29 am

Today I’ve been very quiet. It’s not like me to have a quiet mind even when I’m tried, but it seems to have never woke up this morning. Perhaps it’s a good thing since I didn’t like the news I got today at all. If it was talking, it would be worrying. When does all this end? When does someone actually believe I have pain and help me? Medically, I should say, because I’ve been so unbelievably lucky and fortunate to have the support system I have.

Today I met with the fertility specialist about my PCOS or the lack of there of. It’s not that I don’t like him, but I don’t think a man can fully understand what it’s like to have the pain of just a period, let alone some foreign stabbing pain to add to it. He was nice, through, funny and very gentle with his voice. I tend to notice odd things about people in general.. how they play their voice, how their lips react, common gestures, and especially hands. For some reason, I love hands. So noticing his gentle voice today isn’t something odd. Since he was telling me the regular treatments and the whole unknown/no cure side of Endometriosis, it’s nice to have a calm, soothing voice. Dr. Bispo is the same. His mouth always looks like it’s shouting, but he whispers.


The main treatment he wants me to seek is through a psychologist. At least it was a relief he said that I shouldn’t go on anti-depressants. After seeing what happened to Amy and having a hard time adjusting to the hormones in birth control, it’s scary to think of what I may lose because of it. He said he believed that my pain was real, but my stress is probably projecting the intensity of the pain. I disagree. My two main stresses are my job and this pain! So the pain that is causing me stress, is the stress that is causing me even more pain.. apparently. Again, I disagree!

I have stress, but no more than a normal person would have stress. Work, family life, a long distance relationship, not getting time to spend with my friends, going back to college.. it’s nothing that isn’t normal!

Work has always been stressful for me because it’s such a different job. I’m not just learning how to use a cash register, I was learning how to take pictures properly, how to align, center, crop, child’s play and sharpening my reaction speed. Not to mention dealing with the customers. Selling, delivering, answering the tons of questions.. and dealing with the $5.99 bull shit. Crying kids, Wal-Mart trash.. yeah, it’s stressful, but I love it. This week I ended with a $92 average for the week! In our district, that’s unheard of! I’m pretty sure I’ll make the top sellers list come next month. For once I got good at something. I was devoted and passionate about it, but that’s all gone. I quit this week because I hated feeling like the whipping girl, which I’d been feeling for the whole time I worked there. When I work alone and people don’t interfere with me, I love the job! It’s the people I work with that create the most stress in the job.

My family life is changing again. We’re going back to a three person family! My Grandmom just moved back home which is a relief. I love her, but she’s changed so drastically over the last few years that it doesn’t feel like my Grandmom anymore. She’s ungrateful, pushy, lazy.. it’s not her. This time around she was so nasty to me. It was like every little thing I did was bothersome to her. Right down to the fact that I took a shower in the morning sometimes.. and sometimes I took them in the afternoon. It shouldn’t matter to anyone, but she made such a big deal about it. The thing that hurt the most was when I could hear her talking to my mom in her room. I’d made Brisket that night and she told my mom, “I don’t want to eat whatever she cooked.” It was so hurtful she didn’t even try it after I spent all day making it. In my defense, it was really good! My dad and I ate the entire three pound Brisket in two days. She’s gone & our house is finally completely cleaned up and feeling like home again.

My relationship isn’t something I talk openly about to many people. It’s not that I’m ashamed or even afraid of people judging me anymore, but I always feel like what is ours is ours. There’s no need for me to brag or constantly talk about him. That’s not to say that I don’t constantly think about him, heh. I’ve never felt this complete before him and that helps me a lot with the stress. Not to mention he’s my best friend over all. I worry, yes. It’s an old & bad habit that I need to correct because I don’t want to put extra strain on our relationship. The only thing that stresses me is the distance. I don’t want to say it’s hard to love someone and not be able to hold them, but you always have that urge.. of coarse I want that physical attention, but I’d wait a lifetime if I just got one kiss. “Hey There Delilah” makes me cry because Delilah is so lucky.. she only has a thousand miles between her love & her.. I have two thousand. Not one day goes by that I regret or question my devotion or love.. or even the small pains we have to go through now to be together later.

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they’ve got planes and trains and cars
I’d walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we’ll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same

I’m off subject and falling asleep…

…Maybe someday I’ll make one of these coherent.