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

To Justin Timberlake,
I like your music. I really do! It's is not life-changing or anything, but it makes me shake my booty, and sometimes, a person needs nothing more than to shake her booty. So what possessed you to put not one, but two seven and a half minute songs on your new record? Even worse, what convinced you to order the tracks so these two songs are back-to-back? Pop songs, with few exceptions, and not meant to run longer than 4 minutes, 5 at most. After that, they just wear out their welcome. I beg you, do not make this mistake again. Hours of reckless, fool-hardy dancing are at stake.

To the mostly naked girl sending me friend invites on MySpace,
First of all, I am not a lesbian. While I'm flattered, I'll have to ask you to take your bicurious fantasies elsewhere. In addition, all of your pictures are taken with a grainy webcam in what looks like an office supply closet, next to a copy machine. In your underwear. It seems a bit avant garde, but I don't think that was your desired effect. If you ever want to boost your self-esteem in a way that does not involve a series of "wow, your hawt" comments next to your racy, yet low-quality photos, I would suggest you get away from the file cabinets and fluorescent lights and, you know, go meet some people. Of course, if you've tried this and it didn't work, it may have been because your potential new friends had to listen to you talk.

To Cingular,
Dialing 411 costs $1.79 now? You better watch out; at some point it will be not just cheaper but also easier for me to use my cell phone's internet connection to connect to Google Local and get the number I need for free. Where will you be then?
I guess, serving all the people who still don't have data plans. Sometimes, my geekiness shines through more than I expect.

To Fate/Destiny/The Universe/et al,
Is it some kind of extremely cruel joke that I have been chasing like a madman after work for months, and I suddenly have far more to do than I can handle? Or is this just your way of smacking me upside the head while yelling, “Be careful what you wish for”?

To the young men in my life,
I realize I get a little handsy when I'm drunk. If you have a problem with that, we can not hang out when I'm drunk. That gives us almost no opportunity to hang out though, so choose carefully!

Random guy walks up to me at the Bain Mattox show at Tasty World. I notice he's wearing a hat that I own, but he's otherwise completely unfamiliar to me.

“Hey! Is your sister here?”

“Yeah, she's close to the front.” I point to where my sister is standing with her friend watching the show.

“Where?”

“Right there, in the turquoise.”

“Oh, cool!”

He stands next to me for a couple of minutes, facing the stage. I'm little intoxicated, and I start to blame my drunk memory on not remembering this guy, but I realize that he doesn't even look slightly familiar. I screw up a little courage and turn to him.

“I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere?”

“No, no, I just recognize you from myspace.”

He was even serious.

***

I'm at my bar enjoying a delicious beverage. My friend is at my left, his coworker is at my right. The coworker is quite rotund, wearing a shirt that says, ‘When you masturbate, God kills a kitten.’, keeps proclaiming loudly to the whole bar that someone should help him lose his virginity tonight, and has had one—count it, one—Smirnoff Ice. He has the social skills of a home-schooled kid except without the helpful element of shyness. He and I are not getting along, although I'm sure that would be a surprise to him. He thinks he can woo me, and attempts to work his game, giving me a smooth line that he's probably been waiting to use on someone for weeks.

He turns to me, unprovoked, and says with utmost sincerity, “You know what? Even though I haven't been drinking, you're still really cute.”

He looks at me expectantly, wondering why I'm not falling into his arms or at least blushing and giggling like a school girl. I don't even blink. After the half an hour or so I had already spent with the coworker, this comment just seemed par for the course.

My friend on my other side hadn't heard any of this due to the volume of the noise in the bar, so I turned and relayed it to him, scoffing. We then laughed together, manically as we are wont to do, and the coworker just sat, bewildered.

“What did I say?”