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

This morning, on the way to my car, I was approached by two gentlemen slightly older than myself, wielding a small hand held camera with a large, red-carpet-at-the-oscars microphone wired to it. They asked if I could help them with a project, and ask me “some questions about the birds and the bees.” Usually, I would laugh and brush off anyone trying to interview me on the street—I have walked past a fair number of petitioners, student film makers and news anchors in my short life—but something about these guys made me rethink just saying that I was in a hurry and dashing past. They smiled genuinely and asked politely. They just seemed so damn sincere.

I relented, and the camera started to roll. I immediately went into panic mode, as if I was addressing an entire room. Not good. Definitely not good.

“Did anyone ever sit you down and tell you about the birds and the bees?”

Well, I got a extremely weird speech from my mother when I was about 10? I think? The only thing I really remember about it was that she kept referring to my potential future husband—a person who was completely mythical at the time and moreover, I could not care less about at ten years old—as my “mate”. As in, “One day you will grow up and choose a mate.” Like the only thing my life was good for was growing up and popping out more little Jennas, to ensure the survival of the species. As if I were endangered, like a panda. She gave me the speech after cornering me while I was taking a bath, so I'm sitting in the tub naked, and I remember trying to disappear under the water so she would just leave me alone. She droned on for so long that the water got cold around me but I wouldn't get out because it felt safer than standing and getting even colder. I'm pretty sure that incident fucked me up for life.

“No.” Read More »

Streaming video, pictures of cool cities around the world, and even jokes and Santa craziness.

Track Santa himself at noradsanta.org.

I feel like a little kid again.

I attended candlelight service with my family tonight, to make my momma happy. As an agnostic I could have done without the massive amounts of Protestant guilt, the claim that without religion Christmas becomes strictly materalist, and better keys for the hymns, but I got through it without getting up and walking out on the sermon like I was oh-so-tempted to do, so I'm very proud of myself.

But my favorite quote of the evening:

< A man speaking to some children, cheerily: >

Man {note, still very cheerily}: "Well you know, its not your birthday, it's Jesus's birthday, so you might not get anything."

Was he trying to make them cry? Geez.

I had an otherwise funky day but Kirbys heal all wounds. I love my Kirbys.

Finally some Jump, Little Children Christmas cheer for you.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

So cheesy.