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

I realized that I've stopped talking about the unpleasant feelings all together.

I've praised myself these many months for my ability to stay positive, stay on message, eyes on the prize. With friends, I talk about work a lot, and how hard it is right now — but if anything truly dark materializes, I discard it. I convince myself there is no use in succumbing; I know that to be successful in business and simply stay on my feet, I should act in a confident and charismatic way, and more importantly, believe my performance with all my heart.

I've become a much less interesting but much more content person. My writing has become passionless and dry, a collection of sly quips and shallow comedy, which go down easy. I guess I should be taking photographs or drawing, but instead use my time away from work to watch the same DVDs over and over, or head down to my bar to have the same meaningless, flirty conversations with the same people. Read More »

I wish I had something to say.

I feel I'm lacking creativity lately, and part of me wonders if that's not because I'm finally content with my life. Like, in order to be a true artist, to be inspired, must I suffer? To be encouraged to write must I be aching for joy?

I've been struggling with ways to not make this site into a glorified livejournal (or worse, a glorified linkblog). I want to provide more content than that which is in list form, more than other people's words and other people's pictures. But lately, that has felt like a daunting proposition. So busy am I, living my life, absorbing media, going to shows, moving forward steadily at a million miles a minute, that the moments of quiet comtemplation and composition that seemed to happen in almost an instant, spontaneous and above all natual way seem lost to me.

Maybe it's because I hate sitting at a computer these days. I can't even finish the rest of my web chores, let alone use some of my desk time to be creative.

So I force myself to sit down and compose, and I find I have nothing to say. I end up launching into a toothless meta-piece outlining my inability to write. Too much noise, no damn signal. Get depressed about not being depressed. So damn productive.

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 »

So who remembers my brief doll site addiction?

Well I've found something new.

It's lego jenna!!! And you can create yours here.

Sure, it's not as sexy as doll jenna, nor does it have the personality of south park jenna, but it's new and in 3-D!!!

You can't beat freshness and excesses of two dimensions.