http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p191/chosen1234/Screenshots/LadyGaga-PokerFace.jpgYesterday I got the Lady Gaga Album- the deluxe set that includes both The Fame and The Fame Monster. Is that lady a genius or what? She's so funky she should punky spunk dunk. If you know what I mean.
Mr Russia from work even came upon her on Friday afternoon. There she was decked out in a fiery red sparkly outfit, rifling through some v.v. expensive scarves at "Hermes!!", Mr Russia crowed, pronouncing the 'h' and the 's' like you're completely not meant to. But I understood his excitement. Lady Gaga in Hermes, was surely a sight to behold.
Anyway, so Gaga has been belting out tunes from my car speakers and I'm happy-- because it tops off an unexpectantly splendid weekend which began with very little promise and boredom induced cleaning. That's right. Cleaning.
So there I was, revamping my bedroom. Out goes the old make up, creams, clothes, accessories I never wear, and voila, hello space, and even more helloooo carpet. It's been so long since I saw your beige tones. As I sweated it out, disposing, wiping and dusting, my phone rang. I looked at the screen. Man from Mars. No doubt equally bored as batsh!t in Jervis Bay where he's currently been posted for work.
[To provide some background, earlier in the week, Man from Mars had advised that he'd be able to make it up to Sydney for the weekend. As it had been a fortnight since our last reunion, I was amped and excited to see him. Then on Thursday night, he let slip that he wouldn't be able to make it. Transport arrangements had fallen through. Bummer. I was monumentally disappointed and as always in times of surprise disappointment, I lashed out and chucked a sook that involved dead silence from my end of the phone conversation. Sorry- immature I know, but I couldn't help it. Why get my hopes up if you're not actually positively sure you're coming?
Meanwhile, Man from Mars didn't appreciate my sook and hung up. I subsequently texted a sheepish apology of sorts.]
[To provide some background, earlier in the week, Man from Mars had advised that he'd be able to make it up to Sydney for the weekend. As it had been a fortnight since our last reunion, I was amped and excited to see him. Then on Thursday night, he let slip that he wouldn't be able to make it. Transport arrangements had fallen through. Bummer. I was monumentally disappointed and as always in times of surprise disappointment, I lashed out and chucked a sook that involved dead silence from my end of the phone conversation. Sorry- immature I know, but I couldn't help it. Why get my hopes up if you're not actually positively sure you're coming?
Meanwhile, Man from Mars didn't appreciate my sook and hung up. I subsequently texted a sheepish apology of sorts.]
"Hullo" I mooched.
"Hi I'm on the train to Sydney, see you in the city in three hours" announced Man from Mars authoritatively.
"Are you coming? How are you getting home? Should I come to the cityyy" I shouted
"Yeah you wanna come?"
and so then I bellowed that I was very excited that he was coming and he replied likewise in the more subdued way he's known for.
We trotted around the city, had dinner in Haymarket and came back home to watch The Ugly Truth. Good movie that, especially the scene where she's wearing the magic undies controlled by the remote control. (I refuse to elaborate, you have to watch it yourself).
Then Man from Mars left this arvo back for Jervis again and I drove back home, missed my turn off because of Lady Gaga and found myself on the freeway to Newcastle.
Detour! Thank you GPS, you saved me the depths of Newcastle despair.
I got home, did my pilates dvd and here is now. Rock and roll!
PS Man from Mars accidentally called "Cleo" magazine "Celo"- as in 'kilogram':
"What's the difference between Celo and Cosmopolitan magazine?" he wondered.
Ehrrm a trendy teen magazine, filled with diet tips and fronted by a hot airbrushed celeb on the cover can never be called Kilo, right? Man from Mars giggled and so did I. Sometimes boys say the funniest stuff.
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