At random on the beginning of my much-anticipated four-day weekend ...

(Granted, they're all four-day weekends thanks to my shift, but that just makes it better, see. :))

-- Every once in a while I look around and realize that somewhere along the line I became ridiculously low-maintenance and really thick-skinned. (Well, compared to some of the people I work with, anyway.) Which is just silly, really, because in college I was a hermit who burst into tears at the drop of a hat. So, um, I have that going for me? Hell, I don't know.

-- Would anybody look at me funny if I highly recommended Ice Road Truckers? And I swear I'm not just doing it because I need someone to hold my hand at the sound of cracking ice. No, seriously, I'm not. (Okay, maybe a little.) Come on! It's Canadian truckers bitching about frostbite while driving slowly across frozen lakes. They may crash through! Well, okay, they didn't in the first season -- not all the way through, anyway -- but they might. Don't look at me, man, I'm the idiot who watches reruns she's already seen and is terrified they'll crash through the ice THIS time.

-- Aw, bandslash and popslash people, I love y'all. I have absolutely zero interest in the music, the people, the bands or the fanfic, but God love ya, I like watching people be dorky and fannish over anything. Not to mention that I fully support any fandom that builds so much of its fanfic foundations on hardcore crackfic. (I feel like this is also the time to toss in the fact that I have seen five minutes of High School Musical and was bored to tears and want to see Hairspray but am being held back by the part of my brain that feels that encouraging film versions of Broadway versions of earlier films, particularly earlier films done by John Waters, means that going to see it might lead to a newer version of Cry-Baby. And I watched that movie twice in one weekend a couple of weeks back and forgot how much I adore it and I just CAN'T, dude.)

-- I keep trying to figure out if I'm disappointed that everybody at work yesterday noticed that the skeevy new chick wasn't wearing a bra and yet didn't notice that I wasn't either.

-- Last night at work I kept trying to come up with topics to produce a little meta about and all I could come up with was, "I like Twizzlers."

Hey, look, I found something to write meta about!

Cutting because this is going to get very, VERY long-winded. I can sum this up thusly:

Not all reality TV is bad. No, really.

( Hi, my name is Jennifer and I love reality TV. It's okay, you can love it too. )

And for sitting through all of that, here's that clip of Paul Potts singing opera. (Hey, I consider it a present, damn it. :))

Time to redecorate!

Or, you know, actually decorate.

I think my goal in regards to Christmas will be to talk to my mom and see if I can get her to coordinate any presents she might want to get me with my shiny new plans to make the extra bedroom something other than just an empty room I leave extra stuff in sometimes. If I organize it just so I might even be able to make it a nice cozy place to relax and read while guzzling hot chocolate by the time winter rolls around and it starts snowing.

Of course what that means is that I'm going to have to start hitting flea markets and deciding how the hell I actually want to decorate in there. The carpet is a disaster, so that's one problem I have to deal with, and when Halloween rolls around I'm definitely going to have to see about picking up the orange lights I get every year so that I can string them around the room. I'm also going to have to pick up some standing floor lamps, probably a couple like this -- the walls are dark wood paneling and there's only one small window in there, which means the light's atrocious.

And now that everybody's been flashing the link around, I really rather desperately want these gorgeous Firefly posters on the walls. And big comfy chairs, and lots of cuddly blankets and pillows, and a couple of bookshelves, too.

Seriously, the only room in this apartment that has enough stuff in it to feel lived-in is the office. I want a nice place to curl up with a good book and some soft music and relax. I mean, hell, it's my apartment. It shouldn't be that hard to toss together a little cave to hide out in with four whole months to work on it.

*rubs hands together in anticipation*

(It's possible I'm making plans to decorate because I'm still hopelessly blocked writing-wise. Erm. *cries*)