I've been going through photos of my mother, looking back on her life and trying to put it into context. Very few people age gracefully enough to be photographed through their aging.

I have to be careful to get out before I become the grotesque caricature of a hatchet-faced woman with big knockers.

I have a rule: Pretend you're going on a trip for two weeks, and pull what you'd wear on that two-week trip, and get rid of everything else.

I don't have great thighs. I have very big breasts and a soft, fatty little tummy. And I've got back fat. People assume that I'm walking around in little spaghetti-strap dresses. It's insidious - Glam Jamie, the Perfect Jamie, the great figure, blah, blah, blah. And I don't want the unsuspecting 40-year-old women of the world to think that I've got it going on. It's such a fraud. And I'm the one perpetuating it.

It was during a cosmetic procedure that I first had painkillers.

We look at adoption as a very sacred exchange. It is not done lightly on either side. I would dedicate my life for this child.

I'm a disciplinarian. I'm the tough love pet owner. I believe in very well-behaved animals.