Radio Gaga

I know, I know.

I have been horribly negligent around these parts. It's true, I get it. I have excuses, but like the old expression goes, excuses are like assholes: everyone's got one, and they all stink.

So you probably don't care that, since my last post, when I was just getting myself acquainted with the greater DC Metro area, life has been a veritable whirlwind of emotion and, generally, awesomeness.

Where to begin, where to begin. Well...

After one week of working I managed to find myself feeling like I was in way over my head but it was okay because so were the rest of the people in my class and a lot of them are really nice so it was good to think that I might make some friends after all but I was still lonely because I missed Karen really bad and was hoping she would find something soon so she could come up here but then she told me she felt like she'd have better chances finding work if she was local so I talked to my landlord and he was cool with her coming up here to stay so she took care of her stuff down in Texas then packed up her car and drove up here and that made both of us really super happy and it's been general domestic bliss ever since except for the fact that we both suspect my roommate is resentful of the two of us for some strange reason but despite that we haven't really let us get it down and instead we've channeled our energy into improving the state of my humble basement including but not limited to getting these sweet stainless steel coasters from Bed Bath & Beyond as well as nifty household stuff like a pizza stone and a pie plate that we were going to use to make a chocolate pecan pie for a Pi Day party on Sunday but Karen got sick last week with what we thought was a cold but ended up being a sinus infection and she hasn't started shaking it until today so we had to buy a pie from the store and no one showed up anyway but that was fine because Emily and Sam are really good people who let us borrow their futon mattress so neither of us has to sleep on an air mattress anymore and besides between they two and my Princeton friends in the area and Steph and John who are also super cute and oh yeah can't forget about Alicia who comes over for dinner and 24 every Monday night and did I mention that Karen's watching 24 too and I think that's super sweet and I couldn't be happier right now and really feel like my life nay our life is beginning to fall into place really really nicely and it looks just as great as I'd always imagined.

There, I think that about sums it up.

Well, except for one thing.

Turns out I've undergone an interesting and somewhat alarming change since I've gotten here. One that I never anticipated I would ever experience. One that took me quite by surprise.

It all started when Karen insisted upon playing me the video for the ubiquitous Lady Gaga hit "Bad Romance". Now, at first, I thought the song was silly, and it drove me nuts every time I realized that it had gotten stuck in my head. But after a few such instances, it was hard to deny that the song was getting into my brain. I fought it for a long while. I kept it buried deep inside, but it was getting harder and harder to refuse.

Could this really be happening? Could I... ...actually like "Bad Romance"?

I tested the waters of my newfound admission the weekend before last, as Karen and I ventured into downtown DC on a museum double-date with Steph and John. While in the car on the way to lunch, I bet John a dollar that he couldn't find "Bad Romance" on the radio before we got to the Olive Garden. Equipped with Sirius XM, he began flipping through the channels.

Friends, it took him a mere ten minutes. Found the song, and we listened to it in its entirety.

Later that night, on the drive home, we tried again. This time it took us fifteen minutes, but there it was once again.

And so it was done: I had to confess I was a fan.

The final blow came the next day. We were in Target, searching for coasters (in what proved to be a frustratingly elusive effort), when we wandered into the music department. Karen was slyly suggesting that I might want to buy something, and I was not fighting this suggestion. And yet, every time I walked past either the L or the G section, it was nowhere to be found. The moment of reckoning was clearly not to be. Another time, perhaps?

Then, as we had just given up, we walked past one final end cap--and there it was. Askew, out of place, and glaring at me behind that black vinyl sleeve. The piercing eyes of a woman declaring proudly, "I'm a free bitch, baby."

How could I not buy it?

And so a page has been turned. I'm not going to be ashamed of my purchase. And, in fact, every person I've mentioned it to has agreed with me that it's good stuff!

So if you're looking for me in the near future, my sincerest apologies. I'll try to be better about blogging and keeping up, and I'll do all I can to make my online presence more clearly felt.

Know this though: you can call all you want, but there's no one home, and you're not gonna reach my telephone.