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

Me with Martin and Blake, my new friends in the armed forces.

While making time with Sam and Jason at Washington Street Tavern last night, I met these young men, who are in the Navy protecting our asses.

They were some of the most hilarious drunks that I have ever met. I haven't been that entertained in quite a long time. In the words of Blake, “Do you feel safe, having met Martin?”

They are coming back to town in April and we are so going to hang.

Pictures from last night on flickr.

Got To Rescue Candy Corn on Vimeo

My friend Sam Deeds improvising in song.
October 1, 2005
Athens, Georgia

More on flickr.

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 »

Singing the Beatles' “Blackbird” to myself softly in the Sam Deeds arranged style; going through old parts of my flickr for no reason and remembering things I had forgotten; Sarah Tollerson's solo performance giving me goosebumps; hanging out with Maggs, who comes to my bar just to see me; Happy Hour with Matt and Chris, who throw things a lot; Happy Hour with Ripley, who can pop it with the best of em, and who queued up my song without me asking; hanging out with Zach, who I've missed dearly; making a Happy Birthday video to send to Abie; all of Brett's damn enthusiasm; Stephanie adjusting my shirt to show more of my breasts, despite my insistence that maybe that button should stay buttoned; finding out I can go a damn long time without eating a thing as long as I keep drinking and smoking (breakfast of champions!)

apartment hunting, getting drunk on tequila on Cinco de Mayo with my boyz, mentally inventorying and organizing most of my stuff to prepare for moving (even though it not for at least two months, I just get off on being organized), I should go spend it all on bitches and crack. Who's with me?!, Don't get me wrong: I loves me some cleavage, fact checking is for suckers, He changed our diapers while wearing a hazmat suit., being allowed to use the word ‘crunk’ any damn time I want to, Sam (who, by the way, is simply jealous that he will never even on a good day be as crunk as me!) Link me up when you take a screenshot, kiddo.

“abstract dreams of self introspective with a hint of cinnamon”, The Shizzolator, know what I'm sayin'?, “something about a date masquerade celebrity showdown at tastyworld”, these photographs, these photographs, my Hipster PDA, being addressed as “baby doll” and being told everyday that I rock—I'm going to miss you chucklehead.

Deedsy (12:51:25 AM): jeez, shows how much you love me
Jen (12:51:47 AM): no I knew that, this is just me being all confused
Deedsy (12:51:52 AM): right
Deedsy (12:51:54 AM): right
Jen (12:52:19 AM): well at least I don't stalk you, I could you know, I just gave up stalking for lent is all
Deedsy (12:52:30 AM): oh riiight
Deedsy (12:53:05 AM): well then in that case, i'm blocking you from my life, getting my friend taymin to be my jenna-guard (and he'll do it) and than going to timmy's for a fuzzy
Jen (12:54:12 AM): hey, didn't I just say “guaranteed stalk-free for 40 days”?

Jen (12:29:37 AM): I like your font because it's like, so you, and when you type I can totally hear you voice saying like, "hmm ok"
Deedsy (12:29:45 AM): hhahah
Deedsy (12:29:55 AM): so i'm a courier new kind of a guy eh?
Deedsy (12:31:23 AM): it's kind of cool actually, it's like having theme font, like theme music for the world of instant messaging where everyone is hearing impaired

deedsy: “Duder, you're not cool until you have a fuzzy jacket. It's badass, man.”

I spent tonight as I seem spend many weekend nights these days: pining after someone who is not interested in me while doing my best to get drunk, so I can forget about the fact that he is not interested in me.

In this light, it's a blessing that I am in dire financial straights recently or I would be really wasted right now.

As it is I'm too drunk to be typing, especially typing and actually posting things to the Internet.

deedsy: “You don't post nearly as often as you should.”

It is 10 til 8:00 on Friday morning. Dehydrated, head pounding, I stumble into the kitchen to get water. As I pour a glass, Emily, who is about to head off to work, looks at me with concern, tilts her head and asks, “How do you feel?”

The first word I utter this morning comes out as a choked, low sound as I squint at her.

“Drunk.”

...

Thursday night I was invited out by coworkers (mainly, Neil) for drinks at Copper Creek. I arrived a little after 8:00, with Abie and the Indian in tow, and ordered something they brew in-house at Copper Creek, an Abbey Ale. Abbey Ales are fruity, dark and deliciously deceptive: even though it is printed clearly on the sign touting house beers, one soon forgets that it contains 7.9% alcohol. By the time our party had moved out to the patio area, I had consumed three, plus the half of Abie's she had been unable to finish (“I'm just not a big beer drinker!” she had proclaimed).

Hilarity ensued.

I remember:

• Neil, Abie and Tyler trying to get me to sing. When I displayed reluctance, they tried to get me to rap.
  “C'mon Jenna! Bust out some Southern Hospitality!”
  I declined.
• It somehow coming out among my coworkers that I'm a ‘nympho’, if only by my inability to deny it.
• Insulting people, having it repeated back to me 10 seconds later and truly not remembering 10 seconds later calling anyone a “cunt”.
  
  “I didn't just say that, did I?”
  “Yes, you did.”
  “Wow.”
• I was asked to and sang along with the cheesy jazz covers record they had been playing in the bar on a loop for the last three hours. I was too drunk to be accurately singing, and kept exclaiming in my defense that the singer was in a really weird key.
• Repeating expertly accented Japanese phrases back to Abie, under the pretense that I actually might remember some of it, which of course I don't. She was delighted by my skillful pronunciation, however. I got mad skillz.

After I finished my fourth (and ½) Abbey Ale, at about 11:30 the group split, with Neil and Tyler off to the 40 Watt and myself and my crüe off to Tastyworld for Bain Mattox. Sam Deeds was there, as were my roommates Alli and Catie, my sister Sarah, and Heather and Rob (who are delightful, but officially belong to Abie I think).

The Indian buys me more beer. I protest that I don't need anymore. He pulls the “I'm not asking, I'm telling!” form of best friend manipulation. I cave. I have a lot more to drink, but am never so drunk that I fail to get served at the bar.

The Indian forces me to waltz with him during one number, and I step on his feet a lot as we bump into everyone around us. This did not make us popular, I think.

At the end of the show, I spend long amounts of time praising Bain and his bandmates on their most excellent performance, and then have the audacity to quiz him on my name. Very confidently he blurts out “Abie.” I smile and correct him. He feels bad, and then I feel bad for making him feel bad. I tell both Bain and Brian at separate times that they are the cute one in the band, both while they are standing right there. I monopolize their time.

It's amazing what some people will put up with when it comes to their fans.

After saying goodbyes I make it home, drink a couple glasses of water, and decide that I'll be okay for class and work at 9 am. Obviously, I was wrong.

...

dude (6:31:37 PM): you have a rough morning?
me (6:32:04 PM): yes. yes I did.
me (6:32:33 PM): still drunk this morning actually
dude (6:32:41 PM): lovely
dude (6:32:46 PM): yeah you were pretty plowed
me (6:33:40 PM): I wasn't that bad, was I?
dude (6:34:28 PM): hahahahaha
dude (6:35:04 PM): :) you were tolerable :)
me (6:35:14 PM): tolerable
me (6:35:29 PM): what every girl wants to hear, that she is tolerable :)
dude (6:35:34 PM): hahaha
me (6:36:28 PM): well I meant all that stuff about being glad to see you, even if I did say it 45 times
dude (6:36:56 PM): hahaha
dude (6:37:32 PM): i wonder
dude (6:37:51 PM): if we as humans have a drunk memory section in our brains
dude (6:38:08 PM): you know how sometimes when you're drunk you don't remember what happened
dude (6:38:25 PM): well what if you got drunk again and then made an effort to think about it again
dude (6:38:28 PM): would you remember?
me (6:38:33 PM): hmmmm
me (6:38:49 PM): I don't know
me (6:39:02 PM): I usually don't have memory problems when I'm drunk

So I lied, but I didn't know I was lying at the time, I swear.