Did it really matter which? She happened to look enough like her aunt to ease right on into the life Aunt Jen had left behind, she’d managed to embroil herself in some high Eighties drama already, and going to sleep had not altered her circumstances even one iota. So whether or not any of this was actually happening, it looked like Jenna was stuck in it.
And that being the case, she’d better stick to the new course she’d set for herself. No more hiding away fromlife and dreaming of other times. Hadn’t that gotten her into this mess in the first place? No more being passive and apologetic, no matter how much the thought of seeing Tommy Seer again made her want to cry. Which it did. And absolutely no more feeling sorry for herself.
She’d spent eight months going nowhere, and now she’d gone too far. It was time to get over herself. She wished she could let Aimee know exactly how right she was.
Jenna blew out a breath, and squared her shoulders. Everyone always claimed they wished they could go back in time and redo things, with all the knowledge they’d gained in the interim. Well, here Jenna was, with 1987 wrapped up in a bow. Thanks to her obsessiveness, and recent quicksand-like descent back into extreme fannishness, she knew pretty much every last newsworthy detail of that year – and many un-newsworthy details, for that matter. Jenna had always worried that her life was boring and lacked adventure, that
she
was boring and lacked a sense of adventure, both while with Adam and after he’d left her. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if, faced with the ultimate adventure, and who cared if it was only in her own mind, she hunkered down like a turtle and disappeared into her shell.
It was time for the new Jenna. The New Jenna Project, in which she would finally be the person she’d always meant to become. The person who stood up for herself, and did not hide somewhere dreaming of a different life but lived the one she had. Even if that involved humiliating interactions with the likes of Tommy Seer.
She could practically hear herself roar.
She surged to her feet and strode across the room, snatching up the phone despite the tangle of the cord and congratulating herself on her confidence. She was
a badass.
At long last.
‘Jen, what the hell is going on?’ Ken Dollimore, of course, his elfin voice in the higher register. Which she interpreted to mean he was panicking. ‘You were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago!’
‘Ken,’ Jenna said in a confident, New Jenna sort of voice, ‘let me stop you right there. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I am talking about how I look like a schmo in front of Duncan Paradis,’ Ken barked at her, which pretty much murdered the confident thing in its infancy. ‘Are you
trying
to screw me? Because you screw me, you screw yourself, Jen. I’m not kidding on this.
Watch me
.’
Not an auspicious start to the New Jenna Project, she reflected sometime later, in the back of a cab hurtling downtown at what she feared was literally breakneck speed, but she’d done her best to rally.
She’d assured Ken that there had been no start time mentioned, but that she took full responsibility anyway and would tell Duncan Paradis so the moment she saw him. Only slightly mollified, Ken had told her to get her ass in gear, except he’d been more profane, and he had then hung up with such force it made her ear ring.
Jenna had allowed herself exactly two minutes to feelsorry for herself, which had then extended through her shower in the bright pink and white bathroom, but no one could tell she was sulking while she was underwater, could they?
Once out of the shower and dry, Jenna had then had the profoundly creepy experience of digging through another woman’s wardrobe for something to wear. She’d found out two things very quickly.
One, that Aunt Jen wore an incredibly floral perfume. Anais Anais, if Jenna’s nose was right, which Jenna had not
And that being the case, she’d better stick to the new course she’d set for herself. No more hiding away fromlife and dreaming of other times. Hadn’t that gotten her into this mess in the first place? No more being passive and apologetic, no matter how much the thought of seeing Tommy Seer again made her want to cry. Which it did. And absolutely no more feeling sorry for herself.
She’d spent eight months going nowhere, and now she’d gone too far. It was time to get over herself. She wished she could let Aimee know exactly how right she was.
Jenna blew out a breath, and squared her shoulders. Everyone always claimed they wished they could go back in time and redo things, with all the knowledge they’d gained in the interim. Well, here Jenna was, with 1987 wrapped up in a bow. Thanks to her obsessiveness, and recent quicksand-like descent back into extreme fannishness, she knew pretty much every last newsworthy detail of that year – and many un-newsworthy details, for that matter. Jenna had always worried that her life was boring and lacked adventure, that
she
was boring and lacked a sense of adventure, both while with Adam and after he’d left her. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if, faced with the ultimate adventure, and who cared if it was only in her own mind, she hunkered down like a turtle and disappeared into her shell.
It was time for the new Jenna. The New Jenna Project, in which she would finally be the person she’d always meant to become. The person who stood up for herself, and did not hide somewhere dreaming of a different life but lived the one she had. Even if that involved humiliating interactions with the likes of Tommy Seer.
She could practically hear herself roar.
She surged to her feet and strode across the room, snatching up the phone despite the tangle of the cord and congratulating herself on her confidence. She was
a badass.
At long last.
‘Jen, what the hell is going on?’ Ken Dollimore, of course, his elfin voice in the higher register. Which she interpreted to mean he was panicking. ‘You were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago!’
‘Ken,’ Jenna said in a confident, New Jenna sort of voice, ‘let me stop you right there. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I am talking about how I look like a schmo in front of Duncan Paradis,’ Ken barked at her, which pretty much murdered the confident thing in its infancy. ‘Are you
trying
to screw me? Because you screw me, you screw yourself, Jen. I’m not kidding on this.
Watch me
.’
Not an auspicious start to the New Jenna Project, she reflected sometime later, in the back of a cab hurtling downtown at what she feared was literally breakneck speed, but she’d done her best to rally.
She’d assured Ken that there had been no start time mentioned, but that she took full responsibility anyway and would tell Duncan Paradis so the moment she saw him. Only slightly mollified, Ken had told her to get her ass in gear, except he’d been more profane, and he had then hung up with such force it made her ear ring.
Jenna had allowed herself exactly two minutes to feelsorry for herself, which had then extended through her shower in the bright pink and white bathroom, but no one could tell she was sulking while she was underwater, could they?
Once out of the shower and dry, Jenna had then had the profoundly creepy experience of digging through another woman’s wardrobe for something to wear. She’d found out two things very quickly.
One, that Aunt Jen wore an incredibly floral perfume. Anais Anais, if Jenna’s nose was right, which Jenna had not
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