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

I drove away, looking up at the Cheshire Cat moon smiling down at me, wondering if I would see him again.

This is the thought I had, word for word, driving down the road on Sunday night. This writing thing is sort of a gift and a curse, because you often find yourself narrating your real life as it happens in bombastic and high-handed prose. Even the phrase “bombastic and high-handed” is fairly bombastic and high-handed. That whole sentence was like a snake swallowing its own tail.

The point is, I pretty much spend my whole day doing this, relaying this ongoing commentary back to myself, seeing the words appear before me like a close-up shot of a old fashioned type writer in action. I've been doing this my whole life, and while it has tapered back significantly in the past few years, it still happens a lot. Lately all I've been getting are turns of phrase like this one, barely fit for a bargain bin first novel.

However there is nothing of substance to write about lately. I'm working a ton, and I must admit it is a blast. At least once a day I'm typing or uploading or dragging-and-dropping and it just hits me like a freight train: I love what I do. There was a time when I thought I'd mostly be out of the web business by this age, but apparently I'm just getting started, and the extra cool thing is I'm really fucking good at it.

When I'm not working my brain spins overtime parsing this “he–loves–me / he–loves–me–not” drama, which is like something we've all seen on some network comedy somewhere, young career woman in city, focused on work but looking for love, with generous layers of sexual tension between her and the male lead. Except not as funny as that show you saw, and, unbelievably, more pathetic. They don't ultimately get together because he doesn't love her, and without the Ross and Rachael/Carrie and Mr. Big/Buffy and Angel on–again–off–again mess, the whole thing loses steam.

I'm trying to get that show canceled so I can move something else into that time. Maybe something educational. That would be good.

Each year, we at the house take an intimate look at the last 12 months, in a frighteningly frank way. This is to keep things honest, despite anything else that may have been written. This year it seems more important that ever, because we haven't been checking in as much.

As always, if you think you may be offended by cursing, graphic sexuality, talk about death, destructive relationships, or substance abuse, among other topics, turn away now. Have some kittens.

In addition, if you feel that such talk might ruin your holiday, save the read until after the new year.

And now, on with the show. Read More »

My business has been featured in D-Web Magazine, which as I understand it is based in New York. Fancy. The article about me (which is really just a simple Q&A) is here, and my logo is on the front page twice. All at least marginally exciting, one must admit.

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

Here's the skinny, Internet: Jenna Tollerson can't seem to get a leg up, professionally. While I'm talented at this web thing and business is starting to pick up, this business is also something I started with no savings and a fairly high amount of debt. As such, I can't even accomplish my first and simplest goal: create an LLC. Being able to get this part of my business set up would open a door to a dozen other things I'd like to accomplish that I can only do as an LLC.

So, I've started a fundraising campaign. If you are feeling generous, and you believe in helping a young female entrepreneur to get some momentum, I'd like you to consider clicking the "donate now" link to your right.

“Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, when I give I give myself.” - Walt Whitman

I'm sure you are sitting on the other side of the screen saying, okay, this is making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but I have to look out for number one. If I donate, what do I get?

A donation of any amount will get you a hearty thanks on this site, along with a link to your blog, or your business, or your MySpace, or something similar. I don't have a huge amount of visitors but I do have a small loyal audience, and I know they are just dying to learn all about you.

A donation of $30 or more will get you a charming and tasteful MySpace layout of your very own, with original graphics that will make all your PimpMySpace-using peers completely jealous.

A donation of $100 or more will get you a single-page design for your own nameplate site.

If you donate much more than $100, you are just far too kind.

Finally, when I make my first million, anyone who donates will recieve some kind of lavish gift. Like dinner for two at a fancy restaurant. Or a yacht.

So donate now! (Donation is through PayPal, which is totally safe, and you don't have to be a member, you just have to have a credit card). Your karma will thank you.

Tonight a drunk guy asked me where I work, and I told him I work out of my home. He then asked what I do, and when I told him, he went apeshit.

He gestured wildly, jumping into the air a little. “Oh my god, you're kidding!”

I was overwhelmed by his reaction. “Oh my god. I'm not kidding.” I replied as I rocked back on my heels.

“That is so cool!” A friend of his walked up, and he turned to him in a fit of enthusiasm, pointing to me and exclaiming, “Dude! She's a weapons developer!”

Why, oh why did I feel compelled to correct him?

To Justin Timberlake,
I like your music. I really do! It's is not life-changing or anything, but it makes me shake my booty, and sometimes, a person needs nothing more than to shake her booty. So what possessed you to put not one, but two seven and a half minute songs on your new record? Even worse, what convinced you to order the tracks so these two songs are back-to-back? Pop songs, with few exceptions, and not meant to run longer than 4 minutes, 5 at most. After that, they just wear out their welcome. I beg you, do not make this mistake again. Hours of reckless, fool-hardy dancing are at stake.

To the mostly naked girl sending me friend invites on MySpace,
First of all, I am not a lesbian. While I'm flattered, I'll have to ask you to take your bicurious fantasies elsewhere. In addition, all of your pictures are taken with a grainy webcam in what looks like an office supply closet, next to a copy machine. In your underwear. It seems a bit avant garde, but I don't think that was your desired effect. If you ever want to boost your self-esteem in a way that does not involve a series of "wow, your hawt" comments next to your racy, yet low-quality photos, I would suggest you get away from the file cabinets and fluorescent lights and, you know, go meet some people. Of course, if you've tried this and it didn't work, it may have been because your potential new friends had to listen to you talk.

To Cingular,
Dialing 411 costs $1.79 now? You better watch out; at some point it will be not just cheaper but also easier for me to use my cell phone's internet connection to connect to Google Local and get the number I need for free. Where will you be then?
I guess, serving all the people who still don't have data plans. Sometimes, my geekiness shines through more than I expect.

To Fate/Destiny/The Universe/et al,
Is it some kind of extremely cruel joke that I have been chasing like a madman after work for months, and I suddenly have far more to do than I can handle? Or is this just your way of smacking me upside the head while yelling, “Be careful what you wish for”?

To the young men in my life,
I realize I get a little handsy when I'm drunk. If you have a problem with that, we can not hang out when I'm drunk. That gives us almost no opportunity to hang out though, so choose carefully!

“So how's freelancing going?”

“Well, good and bad. I'm getting to do a lot of really cool projects, and from the way it looks things are really going to take off soon. The bad part—I'm so broke at the moment that I've eaten almost nothing at all for the past week. Oh, but I lost like 7 pounds, and that's pretty cool.”

“So you're wasting away from malnutrition, but you lost like 7 pounds?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Always the optimist, Jenna. You're always the optimist.”

1. I choose my own projects.
2. Chasing down leads is half the fun.
3. I get to talk directly to clients, and build relationships with them.
4. I'm building a name and a reputation for myself, and adding value to my brand.
5. I get to say “I've never been happier” and mean it.
6. I set my own hourly rate, based on my actual value instead of my value as a cog in the corporate machine.
7. When I start to burn out, I just leave my desk for a few hours, and get to come back fresh.
8. I almost never set an alarm. I sleep until I'm rested, and I remember my dreams.
9. Now that I don't have to get up in the morning, I get up early all the time, and tango around my apartment just so excited to be alive.
10. I never, ever wear pants to the office.

You may notice that there is new look around here. There was a need to simplify.

As for the rest of life, the past few weeks there have been highs and lows and seemingly not much in between.

I will say that I am no longer at my corporate dayjob, and have decided to freelance full time. This is simultaneously the most exciting and the most terrifying thing I have ever done. However, I have noticed that I am excited to “go to work” every day. There are new challenges everyday. And not knowing where the next check is coming from is causing me to work my ass off. And I love it.