Archive for October, 2009

Poker Face

October 18, 2009

Ok. So I made the mistake of thinking about going to a Halloween party as Lady Gaga and now my stubborn self has decided it’s a must.

Let’s forget for a moment that I’m not a very big fan of Halloween. I’m just not. I’d like to be. I’d like to say that since I’m an actress I find dressing up and “acting” as different characters on a day dedicated to such things a real treat, but I sorta loathe it. And I can’t put my finger on why. It might be my issue with asking for things. I always felt awkward ringing that doorbell and sticking my bag out for them to put candy in it. This would explain a lot of things about me that I don’t care to dwell on today.I said let’s FORGET for a moment…

But this party I’m invited to is a party where you dress up as your favorite rock star. Now I’ve been given an assignment that’s been narrowed down for me. I like this much better. And Lady Gaga is just asking for people to go as her for Halloween. How can you not?

Thing is, she rarely wears pants. This brings up my ass dilemma. Again. And good news- I’ve been working out! Really I have. And I’ve forgotten to let the world know about it. Kinda like that war going on over there in Iraq. People kinda know it’s happening still, but it’s never mentioned by anyone anymore. And this might be for the best- as is my growing “mom butt” situation.

It’s either work out or wear that red lacy outfit she wore to the VMAs which DOES cover her butt…but is completely see-through. A lot of difficult decisions ahead for me. I vow to try to make it look like I’m not trying. Dare I say it, use my poker face. ohhhh. lame. I apologize for that. I think with all this water I’ve been drinking lately to release toxins is washing away “clever”.

If there’s ever a visual you need to get back on the treadmill or start doing leg lifts, it’s yourself dressed as a half-dressed 23 year old performance artist. GASP! I can’t BELIEVE I haven’t put her on my ipod yet for the workouts. Note to self: do that after this.

I promise to keep you posted on the war with my butt. If I don’t, the terrorists win. Or in my case, Hollywood and all the women with tight buns win. Now I’m off to a 1 year old’s birthday party. There will be cake to eat. And I don’t want to be rude.