Lady GaGa. Why do I love her so?

I do resent it when somebody tries to tell me that I only like Lady GaGa because I am gay. There is nothing wrong with people that do like her simply because they are gay, but I am definitely, without a doubt, not in that circle.

I will admit, part of my attraction to Lady G. is probably derived from me being a homo and her being the latest gay-icon. I openly have a soft-spot for Kylie Minogue, Madonna, Cher, the list of gay-women goes on (I mean women with a gay following, not lesbians... Not that I discriminate against lesbians either...)

Back to my love for GaGa, I am devote to her mainly because of her talent. She dances fantastically, sings majestically, writes fluently, carries herself respectfully, controls the media effortlessly and encourages the world to be lovely. All at the same time...

It does have to be said though, I am partial to a woman in power and I love it when a sister does it for themselves. So part of her appeal is because she is a woman of power. Does this mean I wound like S&M. I wonder? (and you can forget that Rhianna song, I like that anyway...)

So there you go, I love GaGa as she deserves and commands my respect, not because she is the latest big thing. No. That is what Cheryl Cole is for. Meow.

Mum's Boy

My mother tried her hand at writing today. She dictated and I typed, since I mash the keys faster (If in a slightly incorrect order...)

She finished her short piece, exausted physically and mentally.

I then twisted the structure and layout, to create a poem as her piece had some of the key characteristics of a poem. (No, it didn't rhyme, but it was excellently ambiguous)

Here it is:

Mum’s Boy

He leaves school at 16.

Only to join up as a 6^th form

student and start all over again.

He waits with anticipation and

excitement to start his new adventure.

Before you know, it’s arrived.

He can’t wait to get there and start.

Mum meanwhile, is excited for him

but apprehensive, and hopes his first day goes well.

Of course, nothing to worry about.

He loves it; he is full of it and full of himself.

From then on, the year starts flying by.

She watches him grow in confidence.

So much so, that he gets a little above himself.

She waits, watching for the fall. 

And when it comes, it’s not what she expects.

But she builds him back up again, to begin round 2.

It’s a tumultuous 2 years, until he finally gets his grades.

And then he is all so full of himself again.

Mum knows she has to go through it all again,

as Uni is looming… Then it hits her.

No, she won’t.

Because he’ll be moving away.

Instead of feeling relief,

she yearns to have the turmoil once more.

She is going to be left behind.

Hear no evil, See no evil.

 Compliments.

A universal thing that everybody must enjoy in some form.

For example, I was sat with a friend today at dinner and she pointed out a female whom my friend told my 'You'll love!'
I turned around and, unsurprisingly, I loved her.

The female, who I now want to marry and have children with, had deep scarlet hair which towered over the rest of the regular, flat hair. (Not that there is anything wrong with flat hair, which is fantastic in a different, but slightly less unique way)

I couldn't help myself. I edged closer to The Hair for a better view. When I finally reached her table, I told her with great enthusiasm 'I was just admiring your hair from over there where I was sat and I just had to tell you I love it!’ She thanked me for the compliment and I swiftly left the student to be alone with her fabulous hair.

When I had left the tower of hair, my friend had told me that her face had changed to a shade of red. (Which nobody noticed because of her cherry mane)

I then went on to tell a member of staff in the college library that I loved her camel-colour dress and that it hit her body in all the right places. I even said she looks as delicious as a caramel cappuccino. (On account of it being a similar colour) This lady lapped it up and thanked me for the compliment and, if slightly inappropriate, found the simile hilarious!

This got me thinking, what is the harm in complimenting people? It makes you feel good, as you made somebody else feel good.
I couldn't help but ponder, is this one of the rare instances that an act cannot be interpreted as an evil or malicious thing, no matter the confidence level of the person?

What a tempting thought...

The University Challenge

With the exams looming on the horizon, most of my time is consumed with revision. Syntactical parallelism, the ever evolving representations of women, the dramatic intentions of David Hare and the weird nature of expressionism. While I am away from this barrage of information, I ponder over where will I study next? And what I will study? The media? Creative writing? Journalism? Something else that isn't manual labour?

Mum wants me to attend a local uni, possibly in Preston, so we can save money on accommodation. A wise tactic.
Me, being extravagant and often ludicrous, prefers to dream about going to Edinburgh and studying there....

...The latter obviously costing more.

It makes me want the really important answers to the thousands of questions that comes with this pondering.
Like what other courses there are?
How much will it cost?
What other options could I have that would keep my Mum from taking out another mortgage just for my education?
And where in the world is Madeline McCann?

Seriously though, where is she?