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

A few things:

• I am so totally ready for the universe to stop beating me up. I get it! I've learned my lesson re: biting off more than I can chew/counting my chickens before they hatch/eating my green veggies/various other platitudes that ultimately mean nothing. The point is, I deserve to have something good happen in my life — it's been more than a year since the last Really Exciting Change, and I refuse to believe that at 24 years old things are due to start leveling out.
• I am sure I am not the first young geek to say this, but I really wish I could work for Connected Ventures, or at least hang out with the staff on a regular basis. There are many reasons for this, too many to enumerate here, the least of which is that they spend afternoons after work making dorky music videos that come out eerily well. My new favorite reason? I just discovered that the always lovable Zach Klein is actually a stone fox.
• My friend Becca, upon arriving at my apartment this time last week and putting away some beer to chill: “Your refrigerator might be the saddest thing I have ever seen.”
• To the bad cover band around the corner I'm being forced to listen to through my open window: you have no business covering Nelly. The only thing worse than hearing “Hot in Here” for the 400th time is having to sit through a rhythmless cover version.
  I think they will bust out some 50 Cent anytime now, and then my night will be complete.
• Twilight is this weekend. It won't be as quite as fun without beer and food money in hand, but there should at least be some sights to be seen and some drunk people to make conversation with.
• They are butchering Gavin Degraw now. I am sorry that I can't be more entertaining for you today.

“I've gotta say Jenna, you're pretty stubborn. I mean, you're the one who only eats once every three days.”

Gumby continued with an imitation of me. “‘I don't need food; I'll just snack on my ego!’”

In theory, I should take this opportunity to complain.

Why? Life is stressful, and over the years, when my life is stressful, I go on the Internet and whine about it. You could say this is because I'm a blogger (a term I abhor, by the way) but I think it makes me more of a livejournaler.

Zing!

In any case, registering complaints with the ethereal “out there” has become totally boring. Yeah, I'm freaking out about (my lack of) money most of the time and I don't leave the house as much as I probably should and I spend a bunch of time up in my own head worrying about the future, but do I have to keep talking about it? It's old news!

What am I going to do instead? Focus on the cuteness of my new, shorter hair, of course:

Curious about the state of things? Well, although actual funds tend to be slow to trickle in, my business is brisk, and I am working steadily on a wide variety of projects. Most of the time I am actually having a great deal of fun “at work” and more importantly, being consistently challenged. Sure, there were a couple days this week when I didn't eat at all but that is a small price to pay for being able to set my own schedule, and not having to report to a manager or worry about office politics. I mean that.

Of course, the one downside to being so busy is not having energy—creative or raw—to pour into much else, so that's why it's a currently a Tollerson family Christmas on this site. This usually means that we managed to get the decorations up, but because we lack general time and initiative, we probably won't get them down until sometime just before my birthday in early March. It's just like being a kid again!

Apropos of nothing: someday, I would like to go back to my old style of writing. Not the whiny one but the other one, in which I tell outrageous stories of misadventure. The only problem is, I don't get into as much trouble as I used to. This is something I feel I need to remedy—lately I feel like I'm aging a little too fast.

“I’m 23. Remember how old 23 seemed when you were little? I mean, I thought people were going to be traveling in airlocks, and I would have 5 kids.
Here I am. 23.
Things are um, they’re basically the same.
I think time’s running out to do something bizarre. Somewhere around 25 bizarre becomes immature.”
- Singles

I need some ideas: how do I raise $600 in 5 days without resorting to prostitution or say, violent robbery?

With that kind of financial problem you'd think I'd copped some kind of fantastic narcotic habit, but the truth is, I'm just trying to pay my bills.

If I was a heroin user it would give this near poverty lifestyle I'm currently living a much more romantic spin. Then I could sell my memoirs.