Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 10.0 [Focus.]

Three weeks ago my 27th birthday came and went. I had a marker post planned for that time, all full of longing and regret for time gone by. A few histrionic sentences about how though I've reached the same ephemeral age as every member of the 27 Club, I'll just be another year older by this time next year and will have probably accomplished little.

I may still write that post eventually, but so far this year I haven't had time to dwell on my lack of artistic genius. On my birthday, my paternal grandfather—the only one I have ever known—had to go into the hospital. His cascade of problems started with a case of pneumonia, and finally progressed to him losing a leg. A leg. It was just a lack of oxygen that landed him in the hospital in the first place, and just over two weeks later, he'd undergone an above-the-knee amputation. Amputation. I can't stop wiggling my own fingers and toes, wondering what it's like when your toes are suddenly no longer there to wiggle, wondering where that leg is, previously flesh, bone and titanium that was a part of my grandfather, now medical waste somewhere, somehow not a part of my grandfather. Read More »

There is not much to report this year, but this is a Christmas tradition. Read More »

I put absolutely no stock into this kind of thing, but Mom and Dad (a Libra and a Scorpio, respectively) cut my birthday horoscope out of the paper and presented it to me today after taking me out for lunch and other fun things this afternoon.

TODAY'S BIRTHDAY (MARCH 6). Simply put, your life gets better this year. Unexpected money flow will help you celebrate your birthday by doing something you've been looking forward to. You will find peace in a relationship that has held you in some degree of unrest. April brings you new fans. An intriguing puzzle makes your summer an adventure. Libra and Scorpio adore you. Your lucky numbers are: 8, 40, 20, 11 and 15.

It doesn't quite help, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

I do this every year, (or, at least, every year since 2003) and it is absolutely compulsory.

As in years past, I must preface this with a warning to not proceed if you have delicate sensibilities. I would say, though, that overall, I've been especially good this year. Read More »

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 »

New design. The idea came from something my dear CB said to a group of people seated around a table with me on my last birthday, a table that constituted just a fraction of the people that showed up that night to spend time with me: “Jenna has a black belt in popularity.”

People talking about how likable I am will never get old.

Overall, I had a really good birthday. I got literarily dozens of calls, text messages, and emails wishing me well. I got several “Happy Birthday” posts on my Facebook wall, even though I don't publish my birthday on Facebook. I couldn't get any work done, but at least I felt loved.

I put in my contacts, put on makeup and a nice shirt, and went to a birthday dinner with Emily, Melissa and Greg. Then we slowly made our way to Barcode.

And lo, this is where the trouble started.

Thanks to my generous friends, I consumed five drinks, including several shots, within the hour. By eleven o'clock the number was at about ten. After that I stopped keeping count.

The thing is, I wasn't trashed. I was drunk, I'll admit, making me more chatty, more bouncey, and a little dumber than usual, but I wasn't falling over. I remember most of the evening pretty clearly. Until about half past one am.

Then, in my memory, there is nothing. Nothing at all until Stephanie grabbed me and pulled me over to her car, which was parked across the street. (That was about half past two. I think).I remember getting out of the car, waving goodbye, and walking into my building. I don't even remember making it to my apartment door.

Next thing I know, it's mid-morning, and I'm naked, cold, and still drunk.

Yesterday I got the idea that I should take a picture of myself everytime I went to the ladies room at Barcode. Sort of like a drunken diary of progression. I thought it would be funny, and would give me something to write about.

But then, one thing lead to another, and between schmoozing with everybody that showed up and slamming down shot after shot, I mostly forgot about it, and only managed to get one picture, at about 11:30:

Well, that's what I thought, anyway. Read More »

Good morning all! I am, in fact, still drunk from my escapades last night. I woke up about an hour ago on top of the covers on my bed, not being able to remember anything after Steph drove me home. Clearly, I got all the way inside my apartment (good) and spent the rest of the night alone (doubly good, considering). I woke up wearing just my bra, underwear and a camisole that I had been wearing under my clothes, makeup still on, across the width of my bed with my legs hanging off. And freezing.

I could, theoretically, have gotten into a little more trouble last night. It would have made a better story (assuming I could remember anything), but overall, I think I'm happy with the way things turned out. I think.

I didn't expect to wake up still drunk. I expected to wake up desiring to cut off my own head to stave off the pain. So that's good too.

If you don't mind, I'm going back to bed now.

24 years ago today, I came into this world. With me, I brought grumpiness completely incongruent with whatever situation is at hand.

We do this every year. Frank, R-rated discussion of friends, drinking, sex, music, money, illness, politics, and many other subjects follow. If you are a sensitive, delicate flower, I suggest you go elsewhere. Particularly if you are over 50 (if you baby boomers proceed anyway, I'll bear no responsibility for possible heart attacks). Read More »