Author Archives: jaimemnavarro

About jaimemnavarro

I was born in Seattle, but raised in Burien (which was just named one of the top 25 places to live in Seattle). Raised in a less than conventional home, I began performing at an early age. I graduated in 2006 from Cornish College of the Arts with a bfa, and immediately moved to Los Angeles. There I realized that, surprisingly, I am not as shallow or self absorbed as I thought (though still considerably higher than most people), and I decided to move back to Seattle.

another year gone…

On Monday I said good-bye to my 26th year, and hello to the big 2-7. This is not a milestone, but it gets me one step closer to the age that is. I’m officially now in my late twenties, a status I find means many things. One-I’m now officially “past my prime” and should start making babies immediately. Two-I officially would love to start making babies immediately (joking B…sort of)

Seriously though, as my twenties draw to an end, I think back to how much shit I managed to get done on my pathway to becomingan adult. I met Brian, got my first place, graduated college, worked my first full-time job, did seriousdamage to my liver, moved to L.A., got married, began to watch most of my friends get married, changed my career, spent time confused as to what my new career should be, moved back to Seattle and now…turned 27! Not too shabby and I still have 3 years left!

In a culture obsessed with youth, I’m weirdly turned on by the idea of getting older. I’m excited to begin this next chapter that will contain many new experiences; such as not over-drafting on my checking account each month, a trip to Europe and babies…oh wait, what?

Whatever is in store for me, I like the idea of moving forward, toward something knew. Fingers crossed my reoccurring dream of realizing that I never showed up for 12th grade History class doesn’t come true, and I now I have to redo my senior year of high school. Age ain’t nothing but a number, but I’m pretty stoked to tell people mine. I’m 27 and I currently,(the key word here), don’t live with my parents, not a bad place to be!

So here’s to a new year, if you read the blog I’ll let you know how it goes!

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gleeked

“don’t stop believing”     -journey

I’ve totally missed the boat on being part of the cultural phenomenon that is Glee. Sure the television show is in its early stages, but those who are total “Glee Hards” have already been formed, and my new found obsession for the show seems even more ridiculous for a person my age. However, in true Glee fashion, I ignore my haters and let my Glee flag fly!

Don’t worry this is not a post to convince anyone that they themselves should watch Glee. I was recommended to watch it many times, and I constantly resisted, until Netflix put it on there instant stream. It was either Glee or watch Eat, Pray, Love ( a book so boring I didn’t want to do any of them).

Finally I caved, and watched the show, which has led me to realize two things; one–when your closer in age to thirty than twenty, squealing like a twelve year old over a high school romance on a t.v. show is not sexy and two — I really miss being an actress.

Now don’t get ahead of yourself; I don’t miss being an actress because I want to convey an important social message about love and acceptance through the medium of television.

No, I miss being an actress because I hate not being good at anything.

I’m like a Glee cautionary tale–child actor, high school star performer, a college graduate in theater with a BFA, who moves to Los Angeles to chase her dream only to realize she won’t “make it.”

The hardest part about me deciding to no longer be an actor has been that my identity was so closely tied to this career choice I have no idea what else I’m good at. I was a good actress, I loved to perform, and I had a place in the world. Like they say on Glee-’being part of something special, makes you special’-and it’s true.

As I continue to take steps toward adulthood, and leave my Glee years behind, more and more I miss the solace of having a singular dream, and thinking it is all you want in the world. I could have become a successful actress, but my dream collided with reality, and the truth was I outgrew it.

I’m totally reading into this t.v. show way more than I should, but I’m in vulnerable place, and I tend to look to imaginary worlds to show me some kind of reality of my own. I’ve found Glee in a time of my life when I rarely feel passion for something as strongly as I did when I was 16.

While Glee may be nothing more than amazing entertainment, the stirring in my loins when I watch it reminds me that I am someone that demands a dream for myself. I have no idea what that dream may be or where it will lead, all I know is that I need to head in some new directions (little glee humor for you fans!)

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splitting hairs

It feels weird to “introduce” myself when for months now some of you have already been reading about my life. When Brian asked me to start writing for his blog I jumped at the chance, if for no other reason then, now I get to talk about some of his more embarrassing moments (I kid, I kid!)

Really I’m very excited to write for B’s blog! I’m currently writing a blog for my company Fierce, Inc. and, as a young writer, I always love the chance to write more!

The men in my life have always been fascinated with my hair. Their obsession baffles me as its always been my biggest pain in the ass. It’s thick, curly or wavy and usually is copping major attitude. It can be tamed, but it involves copious amounts of liquid and heat and is a laborious process.

I often talked about cutting it really short, but Brian always through a fit. This fit usually included begging and tears, so I just left it long. Six months before we got married I decided enough was enough, and after the wedding, I was chopping it off. When I told B he laughed in my face. Brian should know better than to ever dare me, but he couldn’t help himself, and he called my bluff. It was on! It was on like Donkey Kong.

Please don’t get confused, I didn’t want to cut my hair just to piss him off. However, if he was going to be glib I wasn’t going to endear myself to his point of view.

So two years ago, one week after our wedding, I walked to the salon across the street from my house and had them take the scissors to my long curly mane. The stylist, afraid of some impending freak out due to shock, wouldn’t go pixie short and instead left me with a Kate Plus 8 type haircut. It was horrible. I hated it instantly, but he talked me into going home for the night, and if I still didn’t like it the next day to come back and he would ‘go all the way.’

To my surprise B liked it. This was further proof to me that I hated it. After an embarrassing trip to Target, that included me pulling my hood over my head the whole time and Brian getting very pissed off at me, I knew that I would be making a trip back to the salon the next day.

I didn’t tell B about my decision, and so when he came home to find his wife with shorter hair than his, his reaction was to be a total asshole.

He continued to be an asshole for weeks after, until a combination of my tears and stern looks from his parents forced him to apologize. His point was clear though; he hated my hair and so I began to hate my hair. I immediately began to grow it back out.This process totally blows (btw), but after two years I finally grew it down to my shoulders. B was so happy, the liquid and heat had returned and hours of my time was now being consumed by my hair.

A very complex part of a relationship is the area concerning looks. I’m at the point in my life where I’m trying to determine; just how much what I look like has to do with my identity. Add in the extra layer that I want another person to want to have sex with me on a regular basis, and I do feel an obligation to stay attractive for my spouse. This thought process is how you end up with the cluster-fuck that is happening inside my head.

Brian likes long, curly, beautiful Cosmopolitan magazine type hair, I don’t want that to be my identity. It recently became clear to me that I needed to give the pixie hair cut another chance.This was news I wasn’t looking forward to breaking to Brian again.

Nobody can fully prepare you for the crazy shit that happens in a relationship. If someone had told me that being married would involve deep conversations about hair, I would have thought marriage was bullshit, because you can’t just do something without taking the other persons feelings into account. Brian did not disappoint me though, he totally manned up and came through. Maybe it is bullshit that Brian cares so much about my hair or that I care so much about what he thinks, but nonetheless he put his feelings aside and took one for the team. He even went so far as to help me pick a style of pixie cut he thought was somewhat sexy.

I’m excited for the new me, which feels a lot like the old me–just with less liquid, heat and more time on my hands!

posted by: jaimemnavarro

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