I�ve never, never understood why the members of any population I happen to inhabit love to tell Jamie stories. But man, do they ever. My sisters get it, too. We must share a gossip magnet gene.

I�ve heard so many rumors about myself, it�s gone from scary to funny back to scary. One kid I used to hang out with swore to me � yes, ME - that he knew I had made out with my own sister. Yep. My sister. He sat across from me in a hallway during a party and insisted that he saw it with his own eyes. Right.

I�ve heard that I�ve cheated on boys I was never dating. I�ve heard that I�m involved in all kinds of drugs I didn�t even know existed. I�ve heard that I�ve slept with all sorts of people, in every imaginable combination. I frequently wish I was having as much fun as I�ve heard I�m having.

That�s the real kicker. If I was really doing this stuff, I wouldn�t be happy that it was �common knowledge,� but at least I would know where it was coming from. It�d be easier to accept if I could own up to it.

When my sister Mollie and I were in middle and high school, our parents made us go to church with them every Sunday. Mollie and I were� different from all the other small town Ohio girls.

We dressed in� shhh� tasteful, fashionable clothes.

We knew how to� look people in the eyes when we spoke and stand up straight.

We dated� boys.

We were� cheerleaders.

Well, forget it. The gossip was so thick in that place, our babysitting jobs dried up and I�m sure we were on the silent prayer concern list every week.

The really goofy thing is what a goody-goody I was. God, I listen to other people�s stories from their teenage years, and I�m JEALOUS of all the fun I missed out on. I really, really wanted to be a party girl, I just didn�t know how. And I certainly wasn�t cool enough to hang out with the kids who did.

I think the most devastating event was when I was abruptly fired from a summer job in a public, humiliating manner. A few months later, I found out the managers heard � and assumed � I was a cocaine addict. Now, I ask you. If I had the money to be a cocaine addict, why the hell would I be waiting tables in a crappy, small-town Ohio restaurant?

And it continues. The Keys are very much a small town, and you�d think I�d be used to it, but I just don�t know if I ever will be. Several times, recently, I�ve had acquaintances boast about the spies they have around town, and how they �know� things about me. Now, I don't particularly mind, because first, it�s been happening to me my whole life, and second, I figure anyone who has time to find out what I'm doing in my spare time isn't a person who needs to be all up in my shit about it. But it never ceases to freak me out how interested people are in my life.

Here�s the thing. NOT THAT INTERESTING. (My online journal readership is evidence of that.)

Jamie�s life, in a nutshell: Sleep, Work, Books, Internet, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Simpsons, Going Dancing With Shawn, Shopping For Clothes, Tae Kwon Do, Running, Eating, and Falling Down A Lot.

Riveting, no?

So let�s get some things straight, shall we?

Gossip Jamie: Had a different date every weekend, complete with SEXSEXSEX!

Real Jamie: Had long-term relationships with boys I didn�t like very much, and didn�t lose my virginity until after high school. Mostly long-term, monogamous relationships since then.

Gossip Jamie: Big into the drug scene. Experiments all the time, and may be addicted to various substances. Likely a dealer.

Real Jamie: I don�t even like POT. In fact, hate it. Just makes me � and those around me - boring.

Gossip Jamie: Goes out every night, possibly has a drinking problem.

Real Jamie: I�m a weekend warrior, but more nights than not are spent on the couch, reading or goofing around with Shawn.

Gossip Jamie: Writes about her whole life on The Internet!

Real Jamie: Well, you got me there.