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

It is pretty bold of me, I know, to assume you were deliberately seeking me out. However, considering the search engines haven't even found this at once very old and very new site, I can be pretty confident that's why you're here. Because you were looking.

Or you asked me in person where all my writing went. Either way.

I moved this site off of jennatollerson.com and made that page a stark, simple, one page directory of the things I want people to see first. I have often gone off on long, oratorical screeds about how there is no point hiding anything, how it is best to be your own publicist and make public the dirt before someone else does.1 However, having a dot-com that bears my name meant no matter what I did to push it down, it always appeared at the top of search results. And no, I'm not uptight, and I don't care if people read the sometimes dark, sometimes funny, sometimes melodramatic rants and raves I've put down here for the last seven years.

I just don't want it to be the first thing they read.

I was explaining to someone the other day that practically my entire business is built on the sheer force of my personality. Its about building trust, letting people see that you are easy to talk to, and a pleasure to work with, and responsible, and available. And its a lot easier to get people to accept how nutty you truly are after you have proved those things first.

This site is not a secret. Its just no longer the centerpiece of my online presence. Which is just as well. I have gotten terrible about keeping it updated.

1. 1. I'm not the only one who feels this way.

New design: 9.0, “Critical Darling, Commercial Flop”.

I also rewrote some of the About page, although I am throughly convinced that no one reads it but me. I've often said that this site functions as my memory, and in this context I must admit that the About page generally serves to remind me who I am. I find it comforting in a way that makes me feel guilty, because I'm enjoying my own writing too much. I feel it lacks some humility.

My business has been featured in D-Web Magazine, which as I understand it is based in New York. Fancy. The article about me (which is really just a simple Q&A) is here, and my logo is on the front page twice. All at least marginally exciting, one must admit.

New design. The idea came from something my dear CB said to a group of people seated around a table with me on my last birthday, a table that constituted just a fraction of the people that showed up that night to spend time with me: “Jenna has a black belt in popularity.”

People talking about how likable I am will never get old.

New design! If anything looks especially awry, hit Shift+Refresh.

Not really my best work, but it's something new anyway.

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

We've redesigned just for Christmas.

I can't get over how dorky this is.

You may notice that there is new look around here. There was a need to simplify.

As for the rest of life, the past few weeks there have been highs and lows and seemingly not much in between.

I will say that I am no longer at my corporate dayjob, and have decided to freelance full time. This is simultaneously the most exciting and the most terrifying thing I have ever done. However, I have noticed that I am excited to “go to work” every day. There are new challenges everyday. And not knowing where the next check is coming from is causing me to work my ass off. And I love it.

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 »

But I did just redesign your hub for all things Tollerson.

Yes, my Dad actually owns that domain. Smiths everywhere should now cower at the awesome power of a seven-letter three-syllable Nordic name.