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 »

I am a music nerd. This statement is probably not a great surprise to many who know me. My taste is vast and idiosyncratic, yet discerning; I have about 7000 songs in my iTunes library, which translates to about 20 days (the majority of which I forked over money to obtain, thankyouverymuch).

All this asshole hipster posturing is to say, I have a number of smart playlists to manage all this music. To make sure everything gets an even chance at rotation, if you will. (If you don't do this, you'll end up playing My Chemical Romance's “Helena” 680 times and never listening to anything else, because it's that good. I speak from personal experience.) A lot of these playlists depend on giving each song a rating (one to fives stars) so that you hear the songs you love more often, and the ones you aren't as crazy about a little less often.

Here's where it gets weird: I have friends that are also musicians. Several of them are represented in my music collection, and I feel a little awkward giving one of my friends a lower rating on a given song. What if they were to come over one day, and start browsing through my iTunes library, only to find that I gave a track they considered their opus two stars? How would that conversation go?

Actually, they are all sensitive creative types so they probably wouldn't confront me about it, they'd just go home and write a song about their feelings.

However, when I thought about it, I decided this whole senario was unlikely from the outset, for three reasons:

1. I don't think I know a single musician whose first impulse upon browsing someone's music collection is to make sure that person owns their record, so we can all listen to it right now!
2. I rarely let people near my computer, especially without my watchful eye.
3. It's my house, I get to pick the goddamn music.

Crisis averted via selfishness and paranoia. That's the Famous Jenna Tollerson™ Way.

Ever since getting a full time job and giving up The Hangover As A Way of Life™, we at the House feel healthier and happier but short on material. To break up the temporary lull here, as well as by request, we have compiled a collection of the most entertaining and/or most pivotal writings here for your enjoyment. We invite you to revisit old favorites or discover new ones (gag).

Presenting, the Best of the House:

Nearly Streaking and Other Developments
Here's where I start thinking, "This is going to be a great story to tell at the Waffle House someday."

If Only I Were a Musician... even a bad one
We would play loud and fast music with lots of distorted guitar, heavy bass, lackadaisical drumming and plenty of ill-timed rock screams.

When We Last Left Our Hero...
I spent a large part of the afternoon sitting in a hot bath eating crackers and sipping spring water.

Either Way There's Gonna Be Blood on the Floor
What follows is perhaps the only story from the weekend I can tell in a public forum.

You Know You Gotta Help Me Out / Don't you Put Me on the Backburner
For serious, something has got to give soon.

I Want / And I Need / Do You Really Wanna See Me Bleed
This was officially the Best Thing That Had Ever Happened To Me.

If You Leave Me / I'll Go Crazy / Cause I Love Ya / Love Ya / I Love You Too Much
It was about twenty minutes into the staring/observing/not really watching body of activity that I realized I was watching a low-rider truck race.

So, How Does This Happen?
We won't talk about the passenger who almost got sick in my car, or how sloppy I looked having thrown on a wrinkled dress shirt over my pajamas, or the maneuver I pulled in the middle of Lexington Road to get us back to our turn. These are all things you will have to ask my passengers about.

Move Yo Ass / Go Bezerk
I get to the other side of the crowd where Abie and Danny are waiting and tell Abie about this jackass and my imperative to beat him down. Beat him down figuratively, of course.

Completely Nonchronological
All night I dwell over incomplete conversations and wondering if I'm cool enough. I can't get a reading.

“Jenna! I either need more beer... or a big fucking sweater!”
I got mad skillz.

Oh, sometimes I wish that I was a cold beer / I'd rest assured that you would hold me near / I'd be guaranteed to be just what you need
It bolstered my self esteem. Thankfully, it would be deflated again in a matter of minutes.

Recipe for a Grumpy Cracked-Out Jenna
Serves no one. And everyone.

Oh That Magic Feeling / Nowhere To Go
The thing that is both cool and dangerous about taking a bus to this party is the drinking begins the moment you get on the bus.

Surreal Christmas at the Tollerson Fortress of Solitude
When it comes to partying, Tollersons are apparently your go-to guys.

“Jenna, I just had Sex on the Beach!”
“Dad, that's a girlie drink.”
There are a few reasons for drinking that heavily, but most of it being charming bartenders that wink at you coyly everytime you tip.

That's Just Not A Good Line, Dude
I don't know how the one who approached me managed to say outside with his bottle of Sam Adams, but there he was, arms stretched to either side, ready to envelope me.

The Continuing Comedy of Errors
I pulled on my lucky hat, started up the iPod and bounded down the stairs.

Air Travel
The air is cooler and I worry less about the metrosexual glancing over and somehow reading the less than flattering description I've scrawled in my notebook. I mean, he's probably just a person like everyone else.

“Do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?”
I do not believe in fate, because I believe a man should be able to make his own future, to be in charge of it. The abstract idea of destiny has always irked me, because I see many people take this idea and use it as an excuse to not make proactive change in their own lives while they wait for something to happen to them.

In compiling this list we discovered three things: many narratives are fueled by alcohol, an appalling number of entry titles have been culled from song lyrics, and all the best writing happened within the last two years, on a site that is almost 4 years old.

If I have missed something, drop the URL in the comments.

• The fact that recently, in my own mind, I've been substituting the word “job” with the word “career” when I think about what it is I do to earn my bread.
• The way working at a corporation makes me feel a part of a team, of something great, while simultaneously reducing me down to a cog in the machine, just one more worker bee.
• The way I'm embarassed to pull out my new iPod on the street, lest I be accused (even if it's only in the minds of passers-by) of actually attempting to be “trendy”.
• The fact that I will be 22 years old in less than a month, and instead of being excited, I'm trying to figure out where the last year went.
• That I now have three different wishlists (try saying “obnoxious materialism” five times fast).
• That anyone actually considers me an adult.

While I'm remembering all three of these at the same time, I'm recording them, once and for all.

In no particular order:

1. Never loan out anything you actually expect to get back.

2. You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

3. Don't go to sleep in your party clothes.

Words to live by, kids.

Between this gentleman's excellent tutorial and my new MT paid support, I have gotten my new MT3D installation (mostly) up and running.

Good things about the new install:

1. Pop-up windows are history.

2. In the process of converting I finally paid attention to what my templates are all about.
3. All comments now have to go through an approved/non-approved screening process for unregistered users (which, I suppose, could also be bad).

Bad things about the new install:

1. Comment preview is now totally buggy and won't work like it should (they are working on fixing it for the next version)

2. The long anticipated comment registration system, TypeKey, won't work with my page for whatever reason. I am troubleshooting it with MT, but in the meantime you should still get yourself a TypeKey id.

So there you have it. Tread lightly, and if you spot something else that isn't working like it should, do tell me.

And totally off-topic: my site looks so much better in FireFox. You should switch. IE will only continue to disappoint you.

Things you should do to be as big a geek as me: a checklist, by Jenna.

• Join Friendster.

• Tell Über you'd do me if given the chance.
• Learn to effectively use the web for your evil deeds.
• Join my cult.
• Read all your friend's journals daily.

This is, of course, assuming you aspire to geekdom, which you should, because that is what I am.

Warning Read More »

There comes a point when you should just get back up and forget the idea of sleep. My schedule is so screwed up, geez.

But today will be a good day. Today I will:

• Go to work.

• Come home.
• Do an excessive amount of laundry at my grandfather's.
• Make a run to Wally World.
• Pack up the last trip of stuff.
• Move out to Athens in a more permanent way.
• Sleep soundly and long.

Wish me luck and drink lots of caffinated beverages on my behalf.

Tuesday, 9:30 AM. I wake after having been asleep for roughly 17 hours, on and off. It's not important to my story except that I woke without an alarm, which put me in a good mood, and my Poli-Sci class starts right at 9:30, so I was skipping. Again.

I grab my showery things and walk down the hall to the shower, being happy because it's morning and I'm rested and the day is ripe with yummy possibilities. I get out of the shower at about 5 til 10. To get to work at 11:30 I have to eat lunch at about 10:30. (I know.)

I reach my door and turn the handle. Locked. I think my roommate must be getting dressed, so I knock.

No answer.

I panic, and knock several more times to no avail. I sit on the floor, slump again the wall and think. I now have two options:

• I can wait until my roommate gets back, which may be 12:30 or 1:00, and miss work while sitting out in the hall for 2 hours in my bathrobe, OR

• I can go check out a key.

Simple, you think. Easy. Go check out a key. Everything will work out fine.

Here's where I start thinking, "This is going to be a great story to tell at the Waffle House someday."

Where do I have to go to check out a key? The community office. And where is that? In a trailer in the middle of the quad. Past some construction workers, across the lawn, though the building to the desk. And then I have to talk to someone and explain why I'm standing there in my bathrobe, still very wet.

Thank goodness it was a warm day.

I walk down the stairs, take off my flip-flops and scurry over to the office door in my bare feet, tightly holding my robe shut against the blustering wind, and go inside. Breathe a sigh of relief that there is a girl sitting at the desk, check out a key, and scurry back over to the building, without being seen by almost anyone. Yey for that.

When I went back to turn my key in, I was wearing my Will Hoge shirt, and the girl at the desk is like "You like Will Hoge? I love him!" We get to talking about them, but now I will always associate Will Hoge with being naked. And not in the good way.

After work Melissa and I drive 2 hours to Turner Field to watch J,LC play four songs. It was so fun though. They were being broadcast on a big screen right above the stage (and I suppose, also on the big screen inside the stadium) and for some reason it just cracked me up, and I could not stop laughing hysterically even with Anne Martinez faux-scolding me. It didn't help either that there was even a zoom-in on Matt's pink mandolin, which to me just looked like they were zooming in on his crotch. Gives a whole new meaning to the term Jumbotron. (Bah-Dum-Ching!)

I should have some pictures up soon.

For anyone who has not heard yet: 106 West, Closed, This weekend. There is a wedding that Tollersons are attending and thus, not enough staff to run the place. Sam and Dixie Kirby in their never-ending indispensability have dressed me for this wedding and damn if I don't say I'm gonna look gooooood. Yeah.

Finally, for anyone interested I am currently signed up for the following for next fall:

(ANTH)CMLT 3180. Introduction to East Asian Cultures.

CMLT 3110. Literature of the Self.

MUSI 2040. History of Popular Music.

NMIX 2020. Introduction to New Media.

Of course, these are all subject to change.