1. We now have a refrigerator in our bedroom. A few weeks ago, after my brother's wedding, he was engaged in the time-honored tradition called "Congratulations! You Moved Out! Now Remove Your Damn Shit From Mom and Dad's Garage Before They Give It Away." J and I were at my parents' house that day, and as my brother was moving stuff, J spied my brother's minifridge, left over from college, sitting unwanted in a corner. Somehow, J decided that our current refrigerator was now INSUFFICIENT for our beverage needs, and that we needed to take the minifridge home. I still do not entirely comprehend the presented rationale, but I'm vaguely recalling something about "saving time walking all the way to the kitchen if we need a drink." And let's be clear, here: We do not live in the the Bachelor mansion. Or the Real World house. Or even one of those double-wide trailers from Wife Swap. Our dwelling is a NEW YORK APARTMENT, which are not exactly reknowned for their size. The kitchen is, TOPS, 30 steps from our bedroom. I mean, really.
However, I'm all about The Strategery, so I was like, "J, if you're willing to come to a detente with regard to your ill feelings towards my Clothing Chair of Doom, then I'll allow the minifridge in our bedroom." And he was all, "DEAL!" and now there is a wee refrigerator up in here, AND my chair still has Monday's blouse, Tuesday's trousers, and what appears to be a book jacket splayed across it. Everybody wins!
I must admit, though, that having the fridge in here? Is...well, I'm kind of enjoying it. Cold water in the morning? It's here! Frozen Rolos craving during Glee? They're here! Diet Orange Sunkist at 2 a.m.? OH, YOU'D BEST BELIEVE IT'S HERE. Shhh. Don't tell J that I'm enjoying it. [Sneakily sips cold soda, eats 37 frozen Rolos.]
2. I keep seeing previews for the remake of Fame, as well as the season premiere of The Hills, which seems a good a time as any to mention that I have huge, undying girlcrushes on (former SYTYCD contestant/now-Fame star) Kherington Payne and Kristin Cavallari. So...I have a type, apparently?
4. I've taken it upon myself of late to craft The World's Most Perfect Workout Playlist. It's a work in progress, sure, but I'm quite proud of it. Is this something you'd be interested in seeing here?
5. Okay, so this one is actually noteworthy. YOU GUYS. I am doing Fashion Week-related stuff tomorrow evening, stuff about which I'm so excited that I am loath to get into detail. And that's NOT to be annoying, and invite you to be all "OH METALIA,WE ARE EVER SO CURIOUS! DO TELL, PLEASE!"
(And for some reason, as I'm typing that, I'm hearing that statement in the voices of the children from Mary Poppins, but that's neither here nor there.)
No, I do this FOR FEAR OF JINXING, you see, the tempting of fate, so I'll just say that it involves, among other things, potentially meeting someone from a show that we all know and love, which rhymes with...Shmad Shmen. (See? Take that, fate.) I'm nervous and thrilled, and generally wriggling around like a puppy, so I'm getting through the anticipation the same way I handle all Big Things, both good and bad: I just tell myself that by this time tomorrow, it will have happened. I know, I know. Barf. Fetch me a desktop sand garden, for I am BRIMMING with zen!
(I will of course tell you the HELL out of whatever happens tomorrow night, I just gotta get through it first!)
(Wish me luck! EEEEEEEEP!)