My MetallicaMuses are broken

They want to do their own version of Grease. Why? Why me? I don't know. For some reason, I think I'll be blaming Nette for this.

Jason wants to be Sandy. In fact, that's how this whole thing got started. I was sitting at McD's, and Hopelessly Devoted To You came on the music system, and Jason suddenly appeared in my head, singing along. I nearly choked on a fry. James is Danny, the cocky bastard. Dave is one of the T-Birds. The ditzy one. Cause I want to picture him in the background, in jeans and leather and grease, singing and dancing along to Greased Lightning. Lars? Lars is whatsername. The one that sings There Are Worse Things I Could Do. (We will assume, for the sake of the story, that Lars is capable of singing.) Kirk is the Beauty School Dropout girl. Cause he's a dork. I have no idea who Cliff would be.

Ideas? Encouragment? Straightjackets?

(no subject)

So. Have decided will keep inner fangirl firmly locked up and contained to the area around my desk. See, my living room (I HAVE A LIVING ROOM!) is vaguely L-shaped, and the plan is to put my desk with puter, etc, and my book rack and everything in the short end of the L. I can make that corner my writing corner, and sort of put a screen between that and the rest of the living room, resulting not only in hiding my fangirl behaviour from casual visitors, but also in the effective creation of a writing 'room'.

Yay.

Have found wallpaper for bedroom, and paint for living room. Have decided that if I manage to get everything packed by Friday, I can do this in the best possible timeframe. Painting and wallpapering on Saturday, moving all the stuff in on Sunday, and unpacking and settling in on assorted evenings during the week. Because I don't want to have to move in next weekend, because that's the weekend of the U2 concerts (SQUEEEE!) and I'd like to get settled in before people (namely, Zed and my brother) come over, you know?

OKay. So. Packing in *counts* three evenings. I can manage that. Yes, I can. I can. Really.