Thursday, September 29 2005
Naked Ambition. The book.
REALLY GOOD NEWS:
I’m going to be co-hosting the Derek and Romaine show next Friday 10.07 while Derek is OOT (out of town)..and yes, I’ll be reminding you to listen often.
*6-10PM EST and you can listen online or on Sirius Satellite Radio
MORE EXCITING STUFF:
I ordered a copy of Naked Ambition (Carroll & Graf), the book that I’ve written a chapter in, at Amazon just yesterday. It arrived in the mail today. It’s the first time I’m published in a book!!!!, and yes, that’s damn exciting. However, while I’m not complaining or even frustrated because I’ve applied this zen approach to emotional overload in my life, I was a bit disappointed to find my name spelled wrong, both in the front of the book, and on every page of the chapter I wrote. I do love that my parents, well, the nurse in the room with my parents that day, suggested changing the spelling of my name from jamIe to jamYe, but it’s been difficult to get the rest of the world to accept this change. Even if, at the end of the book, in my bio, my name is spelled right, somehow the editors at this fine book company couldn’t bother to check how I spelled my name, and I even signed a form for them so they knew how to spell it correctly. So, as jaYme waxman, I hope that you will buy the book and enjoy it. The book looks great, and it’s got a lot of awesome female contributors, and I’ve already bought jaymewaxman.com so that nobody who wants to can’t find me. Yes, that’s because I care…
Oh, and if you want comparitive prices, it is more than $2.00 cheaper on Amazon then on Barnes and Noble.
NOW I GET TO COMPLAIN EVEN IN MY ZEN SORT OF STATE:
I’m feeling a little burnt out on writing today, even though I have so much to do and so many deadlines. That’s kind of a bummer, no? A writer who is too tired to want to write. I think it partially has to do with the weather. It rained this afternoon for a bit, and then stopped and now it’s sunny, but the bleary, dreary weather and the cool, crisp air make me want to shut my eyes. Plus, they have the air conditioning on in the office, which, at this point in September, doesn’t make all that much sense. I think the air quality here sucks too, and perhaps I’m being poisoned by air for working in a cubicle. Maybe then it’s not the weather…
CAN’T COMPLAIN FOR LONG:
I just got some potentially more exciting news, even if I didn’t think I could get more exciting news than a book and a fill in co-hosting slot on a radio show, but I did. So, I’m done complaining for the day. Yes. Done. For the day.
Tell Me You Love Me
Wednesday, September 28 2005
Not that the world is always cruel, but sometimes my thoughts are…and sometimes they aren’t…
Today, it’s a mixed bag.
First a good thought..and then a bad thought..and if you don’t want to read anymore, you should stop after the good thought.
Last week I was sitting around my house in nothing except this long, knit brown sweater that I bought years ago at Target (pronounced Tar-shay). As I lay pondering the soft feel of knit, I also remembered back to a time I was in Prague, not this past summer, but the summer before, when I had a friend named Sara and we were so different, but yet, somehow so close. I remembered that she once wore this very same brown sweater, with nothing on underneath, and I watched her as she smoked out the window. We had not just had sex, Sara isn’t into other girls, but if she were, well, that would be a better story, but we spent the month in Prague getting closer and closer, and as she evolved in her relationship, and her life, we needed each other. And then when the summer came to an end, we made all these plans to see each other, plans that never came into fruition. And since I suck at keeping in touch, yes suck, time went by and we stopped talking. And that was that. But last Sunday, as I sat on the toilet in my brown knit sweater, I thought about Sara, and the beautiful person that she is. And then on Monday, my thoughts manifested into a phone call. Out of the blue Sara was calling my phone.
When we spoke her first words were, “I hate flying, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m at the airport, drinking wine (because she hates flying) and I’m on my way to New York. If you have some time, I’d love to see you.”
It was fate. Sara had called less than 24 hours after she had been the top thought in my mind. I knew I had to see her. So tonight I am. And yes, I’m so excited I could pee myself.
And then..this is the not so nice part..Please people stop reading if you’ve known me personally for more than SEVEN years.
Okay, so a friend of mine forwarded me some pics the other day and I got to see a pic of the really long ago, really long term ex, and I have to say, I don’t know how we were ever together. At first I tried to remember what it was like to kiss him, but I can’t, and then I tried to remember what our sex was like, but thank goddess I can’t remember that either. He is so not the type I go for at all, and I wouldn’t look twice if he walked by me on the street these days. Have my tastes changed so much, or was I just living a whole other life until we broke up? I was really depressed about it yesterday. I don’t want to say I consider him ugly, but, well, I don’t find him attractive at all. I wanted to show Jonny a picture of him, but I can’t, because, well, because I don’t want too..because I’m sort of embarrassed that he was my boyfriend..but not because he was, because he was a nice enough guy and all, but because I would never have dated him now. Holy shit that makes me sound shallow…and it probably makes me a bit evil as well…but still, it’s how I feel. Perhaps because I’m evil, that’s why I might be getting a cold sore (as punishment for my bad thoughts). I’m still trying to fight it off.
I realize now that I should just erase the above paragraph, and then no one will have to know what bad thoughts I sometimes have, but then I wouldn’t be “not so secret” - besides, I am who I am.
Even if I don’t know who that once was.
Tell Me You Love Me
Tuesday, September 27 2005
the devil inside…the devil inside..every single one of us the devil inside…
Over the course of these last few months, I’ve had the honor of being a guest on Sirius Radio’s OutQ Channel. The show The Derek and Romaine Show, is hosted by two wacky ducks, named Derek and Romaine (what did you think I’d say, Howard and Michelle?). Derek is a writer and he’s gay and in a relationship. Romaine is a lesbian, she was one of Matthew Shepard‘s closest friends, and that’s how she became an outspoken activist of LGBT rights - oh, and she also came out really young in a really small town. She’s recently single, after suffering through a two year relationship that apparently ended months before it actually ended. *Which, to change the subject for a minute, is quite normal. When I used to ask friends of mine when they first thought my other relationship ended, they all said years before it actually did. And seeing that the relationship lasted nine years, I’d say that yes, that was not only true, but that it was at least four years before we actually ended things that the relationship was over. The good thing about this was that when the relationship finally fell apart we both moved on rather quickly. I was happily dating within two weeks of his departure. I’m not sure about him - but that’s where I was at. Still, it took me six years to meet the kind of guy that I wanted to be with.
Anyway, why am I telling you about Derek and Romaine‘s relationship status? Well, Derek’s I just mentioned so that it didn’t seem like I was leaving him out. But Romaine, well, Romaine is an aggressive lady who likes to get with the ladies, and I just so happen to be one of those ladies that she wants to get with. Anyway, two weeks ago I was on the show, and of course I was being myself and flirting away with Romaine. She knows I have a boyfriend, but we were talking about how she wanted to sleep with me. So I said that if her listeners emailed me and told me to sleep with her, Jonny (my boyfriend) wouldn’t mind, since we have agreed to a few “cheats” over our lifetime (even if we aren’t together, the rule still applies) and this wasn’t really cheating if it was for a good cause (ratings) and there was an email campaign. I mean c’mon, you can’t ignore an email campaign.
Anyway, I was playing up to the radio - sort of, while also enjoying this heavy flirtation. Then last Friday night, at my friend Ducky‘s bachelorette party, Romaine showed up. She spent the night flirting with me, telling the other ladies at the party how cute she thought I was. She even let me pick out a raffle prize for her, and then she gave it to me as a gift.
As the night progressed and Romaine and I got more and more libatious (a word I just made up to mean drunk and chatty) we got more and more flirtatious. And even though nothing happened, she swore that she’d get listeners to email me and tell me to have sex with her. She must have talked about it last night, her first night on the air since seeing me, because there were a few emails in my inbox this morning.
I haven’t done anything with Romaine. I’m not big on the cheating thing, even though, yes, I once fell for a cheater. But, still, now, there’s an email campaign in the works, and the pressure to sleep with Romaine.
Not that it’s any real pressure. If I were the single girl I had been for so long, this would be a no brainer, but I’m not that girl anymore, and quite frankly, with Jonny, I don’t feel the need to be.
So, can I ignore the email campaign for the one I love?
Tell Me You Love Me
Monday, September 26 2005
It’s not the first time it feels like fall in New York (it felt like fall all weekend long), but it is the first day that it’s feeling like fall while I’m working in an office, and for that reason alone, it’s the first day that I want to crawl back into bed, and not do anything.
Why is it that my bones ache and I feel sick just because there’s a chill in the air? It’s not that I don’t enjoy fall, because I do, in fact it’s my favorite season (and the time of year that happens to bring me birthday presents as well), but those initial moments when I’m reminded that winter isn’t all that far away, it’s those moments that make me not want to do anything. Is that the sign of someone with a mental disorder? I hope not, because most of the time I feel sane.
I should probably continue to act all professional, as after checking my web server statistics this weekend I now know that thanks to Regina Lynn and the Wired piece, I’ve had a lot of new views on my site. So yes, welcome to the professional blog of a professional sex educator.
Okay. That should do the trick. And if not, I’ll get off of talk about me and my sanity..and show examples of just how sane I am.
WTF (What the %$!*) is Bush thinking declaring a war on porn?! We’re still fighting a war on terror last time I checked, and that war wasn’t going so well, so, why is he trying to fight another war on another front this very minute?
Now granted, I am a sex educator who has dabbled in the adult industry, mainly behind the scenes, but still I’ve been on more than my share of adult film sets. And while I have only been more than mildly uncomfortable once, and with good reason - but I don’t want to go there because thank goddess the film never even made it out of the camera - and no, I wasn’t on camera - but still, while I understand that there are some bad people making bad movies, why declare a war on everyone..including the people like me, people who are trying to make this a better world for better sex? Adult films are not going away. They are not going to disappear because Mr. Pwesident saw a movie he didn’t like, or because his daddy told him that this would make him popular with the people. And furthermore, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Cabinet watched more adult movies than your average adult movie afficianado. People can make movies in the privacy of their own homes, so why should anyone limit our rights to express ourselves freely? If you don’t want to watch an adult movie, don’t go online and surf for adult stuff, don’t rent adult DVD’s, don’t stay on the channels that showcase sex - because you, Mr. Pwesident, have the right to choose, just like I do.
Sorry, the soapbox was looking a bit dusty. But now I’ve cleaned off the cobwebs and have made sure that it’s still usable. And, I’ll be damned, it still works.
In other not-so-exciting-and-completely-unrelated-news, I went last minute to see Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway yesterday. The boyfriend had never seen a Broadway show before, and after living in New York for three years, I thought it was time he had that experience. If you can afford the experience (after getting half price tickets we still paid $53/ticket!!!), and you like the Jews, I suggest seeing Fiddler on the Roof while Harvey Firestein is playing the lead role of Tevye. He was so good…no…he was so great. Rosie O’Donnell (did you know she has a blog?!) played his wife, which was kind of funny. Here you have a flaming queer and a butch dyke lesbian playing an old, Jewish, married couple, and it is a bit ironic…of course, I mean that in the nicest of ways. Altough Rosie, she’s nothing to stand up and give an ovation about, even if some people did just that, just because she has some level of “more popular than most people” fame, still that doesn’t mean she deserves accolades for bad acting.
Or maybe it does?
First it’s the war on porn. Then it’s the way society worships celebrity. Perhaps if I could get Rosie to star in an adult movie, the world would be a happier place. On second thought…maybe it wouldn’t.
Tell Me You Love Me
Friday, September 23 2005
The Real Me.
I am wired right now, thanks to Regina Lynn and some beautiful press today!
Swelling Demand for Sex Ed Online
Maybe I shouldn’t have said pussy (in the last sentence). I mean I’m comfortable with the word, but maybe it’s not the best to make other people comfortable. And the first line, yes, the United States is less comfortable but truth is, it’s never been comfortable with sex. We are one of the most sexually repressed Western countries in the world when it comes to sex.
Still, when I read something like this…I’m like, is that really me? I mean I know it’s me, and I know that I said these things, but who am I?
I’m Jean Valjean…
did anyone get my Les Mis reference?
The article even made it on fark.
Which is like totally crazy, but not like loony crazy, just like wow, I’m-on-fark-crazy.
I also watched this video online today. It’s for the The floating island. I tried to find it when I walked over the Williamsburg Bridge this morning. No such luck. But who needs that luck, when you’ve just been written up on Wired.com.
I’m all about the Internet now.
Tell Me You Love Me
Thursday, September 22 2005
Have your cake and eat it too..
I’m about to start writing a third column for a weekly Philly paper. I’ll tell you more when the first column is published, which will be in a week or so. I don’t think my boyfriend will love the column, but I wanted to write something honest and well, honest, and it’s a bit more personal than I’ve gotten before, at least when it comes to talking about him in a public space.
One of the features that they’re trying to get started, is going to be a best sex/worst sex bit that will run as a sidebar on some of the pages. So, if anyone wants to share a best sex/worst sex story with me, I’d love to see about getting it published..and yes, anonymously if need be.
Let’s see..I’m going to think of one of mine. Hmm…it’s hard to do a best sex story when you’re in a relationship, especially if the story you’re going to write about does not involve your current love. Not that it couldn’t, but a juicier best sex story is one that, oh, forget it, I don’t want to dig myself any holes that I can’t easily get out of. I’ll have to think of a worst sex story. Worst sex. Well, what if my parents read this? (Which sometimes I know my dad does)..oh, okay..DAD STOP READING NOW..or SCROLL DOWN UNTIL YOU SEE THE DASHES AND THE LINE AND START READING AGAIN…(hopefully that will be enough of a precautionary measure).
Okay, worst sex..while I don’t think I’ve had sex that would make me cringe, okay, but bad sex is incompatible sex. I remember this one time, in my old apartment on 28th and 2nd, years back, I just started dating this really smart lawyer guy, and he really liked me and I wanted to really like him, but our sex was so off. After sex he actually asked me why I might have thought the sex was bad too, which was strange to hear, because yes, it can deflate an ego, and because even if I was thinking that the sex was bad, I wasn’t sure that I had the eggs to admit it to him. At least not this soon…(we had only had sex like twice). But still, he asked and I didn’t have an answer but agreed, and I did think that maybe we shouldn’t be dating, but he thought we should try to work through it and so we did (try) but it didn’t work (the relationship). Fine, not as detailed a story as I’d like others to share, but it’s a start.
So, worst sex stories anyone? Best sex stories? You can send me an email. Please.
—————————————-DAD THIS LINES FOR YOU—————-
So much excitement in the news today!!
Like this from the NY Times:
“After more than a decade of false starts, New York City officials announced yesterday that they had selected a company to remake the city’s jumbled streetscape by providing aesthetic order to its thousands of bus shelters and newsstands and, perhaps most intriguing, installing 20 freestanding public toilets on city streets.”
Yeah!!!..public toilets..to make going to the bathroom a little easier here in New York City. I do hope that they’re smell proof because it would be pretty gross to imagine smelling an overflowing toilet, packed full with diarhhea on the corner of 42nd and 5th, on your way to work. And…Does 20 toilets throughout Manhattan sound like a lot to you? It doesn’t to me.
But this is my favorite headline in a long time from Slate:
Ass Backwards: The media’s silence about rampant anal sex.
I could go into detail about what the story is about, but I’m not in the mood. Still, anal sex is rampant. As I was walking to work today, I saw at least four people engaging in anal acts on the street. I can’t believe how out of control it’s gotten. People are foaming at the mouth from anal sex. I mean seriously. It’s spreading like weeds. I don’t know what to do about it. No butt is safe.
Okay, yes, I’ve had enough.
Tell Me You Love Me
Wednesday, September 21 2005
and one of two friends I still have from high school.
(no not hairy, Harry)
Harry wanted me to wait until he’s dead to talk about how selfless he is, but I didn’t want to have to wait that long. So my friend Harry is selfless. So selfless that I actually think he’s going to get me back on iTunes rather quickly. Apparently he thinks it’s a technical glitch, and he knows how to fix it. He should know (how to fix it) since he’s been podcasting, along with his wife Ziva, way longer than I have.
My second podcast is up. Live. Now. And so is a new page. I think it looks hot. Yes hot. Not that I look hot, but the page, boy is it mmm..mmm..good…
I’ve just resubmitted to iTunes. Keeping my fingers crossed, which is making it difficult to type.
Okay, have uncrossed them. I don’t follow a lot of what’s going on - something I probably shouldn’t admit, but apparently a lot of angry shit is going down with some Suicide Girls. All good things must come to an end, and after reading Violet Blue‘s blog on them, I think that whatever happened at that organization sucks. And if anybody you know, including yourself, is a member of SG, you may want to read what’s going on and see how you feel. I can’t support a site that doesn’t support it’s people.
Otherwise. Got through the first chapter of Pornified. It’s amazing how someone can write so much and still not say anything.
Oh, and last night, caught a beautiful set by my fantastic friend. Check her out.
Tell Me You Love Me
Tuesday, September 20 2005
I took an authorized photo of this man making his own seat on the subway. I do love New York *most of the time
This was sent to me late Sunday..from the friendly people at Apple.
Dear Podcast Creator,
This is to inform you that your podcast has been removed from the iTunes Music Store because of offensive content.
If your problem can be resolved, you can fix it in your RSS feed, and then re-submit your podcast to the Music Store.
The Music Store Team
Now..I went back and listened to the first podcast I submitted, thinking, well maybe I cursed and maybe those seven dirty words aren’t allowed on podcasts either. I figured I could easily edit the words out and then, then iTunes would love me and give me an easy time and broadcast me for the whole world to hear, and as I neared the end of my 15 minutes of Internet air time I realized, there isn’t a single curse word (at least not one of the seven) in my entire podcast. PLUS, after listening to some other, popular podcasts, I’ve heard a lot of offensive content on other shows, so why are they singling me out for talking about sex? And when did sex become offensive? So, what’s the real reason they won’t broadcast me? I want to know. Unfortunately, I am relegated to an email correspondence at this time, so I feel frustrated and a bit sad. I feel like my freedom of speech is being stifled. I don’t know what to do.
On another note, I just borrowed a book that should make for entertaining reading. Pamela Paul, who first wrote “The Starter Marriage” about couples who marry and divorce in less than five years and before the age of 30 has written her third book “Pornified” about how bad porn is. She was/is one half of one of those starter marriage couples, and now, perhaps she hasn’t remarried since her failed starter marriage, and maybe that’s why she blames “porn” for bad men. I don’t know. That’s what it sounds like to me, but still, I can’t wait to read it. Do you think she wrote the book because words like porn and things like sex sell? If she did, she should just admit it, I mean, otherwise..who is she and where does she get off writing this shit?
It’s a free country, unless you’re trying to broadcast a podcast. Then it’s not so free.
Speaking of books. The antithesis to that book is this book - Naked Ambition, coming out next month. My friend Carly Milne is the editor, and I’ve written a chapter..my first chapter in a book. The book is about women pornographers who are shaping the adult industry. It’s perfect timing since it’s coming out on the tail of “Pornified” and I’m stoked about that.
In fact, this perfect timing…I’m calling it karma. The kind of karma one can preorder at Amazon.
Tell Me You Love Me
Monday, September 19 2005
The October Issue. On Sale NOW.
In it, on page 110 - you’ll find a not so happy article about Playgirl entitled “Why won’t you pay to look at naked guys anymore?” Claudine Ko reports on the inner workings of Playgirl Magazine (the magazine I write for and part of the company that employs me).
I say there’s no such thing as bad press, just bad people (and no, the writer isn’t necessarily bad people - this is just a saying I made up), I actually have nothing bad to say about her. She complimented my writing and ABSOLUTELY GOT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO DO IN MAKING PORN - YEAH!!!!
Actually two things made my day, and yes, I’ll share them with you:
Claudine Ko writes:
“But despite the fact that Playgirl looks as if it is indeed made for unhip gay men, some of their recent editorial changes have the potential to work: photo essays of straight couples, frank sex advice and product pages…”
…even though my column is three years old, I’ll take that compliment…(at least I hope that it’s mine to take)
and..my other favorite thing…
Claudine Ko’s final task is to oversee an instructional video for oral sex at a hipster loft..that’s my video, the one I made in May!!! and here’s what she says:
“Jamye teaches the group various silly erotic moves such as “the corkscrew.” … (there’s like four more lines here)…I have the odd feeling of being trapped in a Pee Wee’s Playhouse episode.”
That was my intention. I wanted to do sex just like that…sort of a Pee Wee’s Playhouse meets Deep Throat thing, one that has nothing to do with Pee Wee being caught with his hands on his pee wee in a movie theater. In fact Paul Reubens isn’t even in the video…but still, Claudine nailed it on the head. She got what I was trying to do. And even if she got some other facts wrong, the male director she saw, he was really my co-director, she did do an accurate job of portraying some of what went on that day.
And, like I said, that makes my day.
Tell Me You Love Me
Saturday, September 17 2005
Me. Being well.
iTunes hasn’t accepted my podcast yet. I have the techies at the Playgirl website looking in to adding an RSS feed to the page they’re creating on the webiste, since, as I record more and more podcasts, they’ll need a place where they can grow. I’ve recorded my second podcast and it should be up on Monday. I just sent my first podcast to podcastalley, and I’m working on getting it up on other sites as well. The more involved I get in this podcast thing, the more and the better I want to make them. Although the one I recorded yesterday - I think I sound cranky in that one - but that’s okay because, like I said, the more I make, the better I want to be, that’s what I realized after making the cranky one yesterday. I sound cranky because I was cranky. But yeah, this podcast thing, it’s something for me to get easily excited about. I love radio. I love sex. I love broadcasting. I love life. Fuck, yes, there, I said it. Even at times when it isn’t going my way or it’s hard, I love life. At least I love life while I can appreciate it.
Walking to the coffee shop where I’ve spent the last few hours being as productive as I was when I was at home cleaning my room for the first time in weeks, I made eye contact with a man who asked me how I was doing. Now a lot of New Yorkers might smile and move on, but I like to sometimes address the questions that are being asked of me directly. “I’m well, thank you” I smiled and yes, walked on. “At least someone is” he replied.
Lots of people are well, at least well enough not to have lots of things to complain about…and that’s a good thing. Sure I might have bit some nails too low, or scratched a bug bite too hard, or maybe I’ve had a few more dizzy spells than I’m accustomed to, especially in the morning, or in the afternoon at work, but lately I’ve gotten rather dizzy if I stand up too fast, but still, I’m well. At least I think that the dizzy spells are nothing to worry about and that I’m well.
Anyway. Life is swell and I’m well, and making podcasts is fun. Soon, I’ll invite guests onto my show. I like the idea of having a “my show” because for so many years it was other people’s shows that I was involved in.
The podcast goes up Monday, I’ll remember to remind you or remind you to remember. Whichever.
Tell Me You Love Me