Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 9.0 // Critical Darling, Commercial Flop

Well, what can I say, Internet? It has been kind of a crazy few weeks. I have been so busy with normal, day-to-day living, as well as just mentally unpacking all that has gone on, that I haven't been checking in as much as I would like.

We'll start with the basics, because that seems like as good a place as any to start. There was the Boston trip. There was a great deal more family conflict than I really cared for. I didn't get to see much of the city, spending most of the time being shuffled from location to location or trapped in an apartment.

On the upside, I got to spend time with both my sisters, which was lovely. I got to meet a few of Sarah's dear friends, who were for the most part great people, and made me feel like my baby sister is being taken care of up there in the seemingly cold north. I walked a lot, which I feel could only be good for me. And while I loathe being away from home, for some reason I love the act of the roadtrip -- driving through a part of the country I had never seen before, stopping at random gas stations and restaurants, and that feeling of being on your way somewhere. That feeling that makes you temporarily forget every goal besides your destination. There is something kind of meditative about that part. When you can ignore the screaming and antagonism from the other passengers, that is.

Things I learned on the road to, and from, Boston: Read More »

Next week I'm traveling to Boston with my parents see my sister, Sarah, graduate college. My parents have rented a minivan for the occasion. I can promise you that even with the current price of gas, going by automobile is much less stressful than trying to convince my father to fly; not to mention the general farce that is the airline industry these days.

The big downside to driving is I can't get drunk and doze off.

Sarah and I are discussing the upcoming trip, in which my father, my mother and I will be trapped in a rented Kia minivan together for hours on end.

“That is going to be really entertaining; I wish I could be there.”

“Well, maybe I'll have to take notes.” I laugh. “You know, they've talked about putting me down as one of the drivers, so that should be interesting.”

Sarah pauses a moment, then says in a slightly serious tone, “Now I'm picturing you driving a minivan.
“It's a pretty disturbing image.”

Geek talk with CB; lunch with Mom and Dad, because they think everything I say is hilarious and they make me feel like a standup comic; Hot Kathy (Demo) by Apes & Androids; EveryTopicInTheUniverseExceptChickens.com; Defaced; the photos of Franca Alejandra (warning: some are NSFW);The Scissor Sisters on Passions (which you've got to admit is just fucking weird; twitter (like having an AIM "away" message without the annoyance of actually using IM of any kind); “You move Smoothly!: Cute five-year old breaks out moves, kicks out jams, etc.” Let My People Come, The Musical; “Slab City. Several hundred people spontaneously built a city on desert land that was owned by the government, and continued to occupy it for decades despite the absence of any services that are taken for granted in civilization, such as water, power, gas, sewage, garbage, phone, postal or governmental authority.”

In theory, I should take this opportunity to complain.

Why? Life is stressful, and over the years, when my life is stressful, I go on the Internet and whine about it. You could say this is because I'm a blogger (a term I abhor, by the way) but I think it makes me more of a livejournaler.

Zing!

In any case, registering complaints with the ethereal “out there” has become totally boring. Yeah, I'm freaking out about (my lack of) money most of the time and I don't leave the house as much as I probably should and I spend a bunch of time up in my own head worrying about the future, but do I have to keep talking about it? It's old news!

What am I going to do instead? Focus on the cuteness of my new, shorter hair, of course:

Curious about the state of things? Well, although actual funds tend to be slow to trickle in, my business is brisk, and I am working steadily on a wide variety of projects. Most of the time I am actually having a great deal of fun “at work” and more importantly, being consistently challenged. Sure, there were a couple days this week when I didn't eat at all but that is a small price to pay for being able to set my own schedule, and not having to report to a manager or worry about office politics. I mean that.

Of course, the one downside to being so busy is not having energy—creative or raw—to pour into much else, so that's why it's a currently a Tollerson family Christmas on this site. This usually means that we managed to get the decorations up, but because we lack general time and initiative, we probably won't get them down until sometime just before my birthday in early March. It's just like being a kid again!

Apropos of nothing: someday, I would like to go back to my old style of writing. Not the whiny one but the other one, in which I tell outrageous stories of misadventure. The only problem is, I don't get into as much trouble as I used to. This is something I feel I need to remedy—lately I feel like I'm aging a little too fast.

“I’m 23. Remember how old 23 seemed when you were little? I mean, I thought people were going to be traveling in airlocks, and I would have 5 kids.
Here I am. 23.
Things are um, they’re basically the same.
I think time’s running out to do something bizarre. Somewhere around 25 bizarre becomes immature.”
- Singles

Last night I had a dream that I lived in a large houseboat with a couple dozen other people. It wasn't really like a houseboat but more like a small steamship that had been converted on the inside to house people. The bedrooms were long and narrow, with a dozen people in each one, kind of like what you might imagine an orphanage might look like, but with bigger beds. I remember havings the distinct feeling I was living here because my parents lived just up the dock, on land in an actual house, and even though I had to share a bedroom here I actually got more privacy. I have no idea where that idea came from but to my dream self it made lots of sense.

When the dream opens up it's night, and I'm walking into my bedroom, and getting into the first bed, my bed. A tan heavily tattooed young man is lying next to who I presume is his sleeping girlfriend in the next bed, and he watches and smiles as I get into bed and then take my clothes off once under the covers (apparently, I sleep naked even in my dreams now). Then I turn over and go to sleep. Read More »

A lot has happened and nothing has happened while I've been away, Internet. I did Christmas with the family, Charleston with my friends, said goodbye to the single most influential force in my life thus far, and met a dozen or so new and wonderful people.

Then I came back to Athens. And I've felt completely weird ever since. It's a feeling I always get in Charleston, which, being a city I don't particularly care for, has a tendency to throw me way out of my comfort zone on those extended stays. There is no good way to describe it other than I feel “off”. I expected it to release it's hold on me when I came home, but it's hung around in one way or another. This is only a hollow sinking feeling in my gut though. In reality, I own the motherfuckin Classic City. I have friends, regular haunts, a job where everyone digs my work, a swank apartment, and depression-wise, I'm feeling less episode-dy than I have in years. I get up everyday excited to get some shit done (after a shower and a few big gulps of a caffeinated beverage, anyway). It doesn't take every sheer ounce of will I have to make myself walk out and face the world in the morning. This is progress! Read More »

But I did just redesign your hub for all things Tollerson.

Yes, my Dad actually owns that domain. Smiths everywhere should now cower at the awesome power of a seven-letter three-syllable Nordic name.

I walk into the room where my sister, Sarah, and my Mom and Dad are together talking.

“This is why I contend that demons roamed the earth before we were here.” says my father emphatically.

I assumed that I had simply come in during the wrong part of the conversation, by my mother and sister are just staring at him as well.

Jenna (2:31:06 AM): have you seen this?
Sarah (2:31:33 AM): haha, yeah
Sarah (2:32:06 AM): why?
Jenna (2:32:30 AM): I dunno I was just wondering
Jenna (2:32:43 AM): i got a referral from it, I didn't even know it was up
Sarah (2:32:55 AM): haha well
Sarah (2:32:58 AM): Jason Spatola saw it
Sarah (2:33:02 AM): and he was asking me all about it
Sarah (2:33:37 AM): and I was just kinda like, "yeah, I dunno know, that's my dad"
Sarah (2:33:44 AM): and it was really funny because
Jenna (2:33:47 AM): haha
Sarah (2:34:09 AM): he was like, "if I had your dad I would be asking questions all the time!!"
Sarah (2:34:18 AM): "I mean... there is just so much that is unexplained!!!"
Jenna (2:34:20 AM): hahaha
Jenna (2:34:22 AM): HAHAHAHA
Sarah (2:34:30 AM): haha and I guess it's really true... but like, we just are so used to it
Jenna (2:34:35 AM): totally

studying my cashflow forecast, looking for expenses to cut; planning my 401(k); planning to move; productivity system planning (with GTD); playing a lot of Sims 2; my diy hipster pda; Pac-man with sparklers; being begged for my attendance to a party; being forced to act my age (which is still quite young); a new hat; weighing much less (with clothes on and pockets filled) than I did a month ago (naked); my tried-and-true-til-the-end relationship with CB; being able to count on some friends even though you rarely even speak to them; being randomly checked up on by Neil; a good cry; the systematic purging of all the crap in my old room at my parent's; knowing that when I think that all hope is lost, I can count on my sisters