Lady Kat Needs New Friends

I have come to the conclusion that I need new friends. DESPERATELY!

Well, not that desperately because no one has time for friends during exams, but you get the gist of it.

The other night I was chatting to one of my soon-to-be-replaced friends, when we came to the conclusion that Lady Gaga and I actually have a lot in common and I should therefore structure my entire life on a template of her design. However when I asked this friend to call me Lady Kat he was shocked.

A couple weeks ago, one of my sister’s friends called me Miss Kat. As if the grey hairs screeching back at me from the reflection in my mirror weren’t enough to constantly remind me that I am getting older. That bitch (she’s actually pretty awesome, but for the sake of my story let’s pretend that she’s not) called me MISS! I think I may have aged about ten years on the spot. She then gave me the option of Miss Kat or Kat Lady. As if the first option wasn’t insulting enough.

On a side note, to all future potential suitors who may be stalking me while they wait for my credit check to come through, I am not actually a cat lady. Also if you manage to find anything in my bank accounts please notify me immediately so that I can rectify the situation.

But I digress. Anyways, we eventually decided that Lady Kat was a good middle point (not that it stuck but one can try I suppose).

Then when I was chatting to this super sexy, stud of a man named Thala (well technically that’s not his name but seeing as he’s from the Eastern Cape, he has some ridiculous Xhosa name that I can’t even pronounce let alone try an spell) the other night and we were comparing some of my better traits to those of Lady Gaga, I remembered Lady Kat.

For the sake of those of you who don’t know me and are struggling to draw the parallels between Lady Gaga and myself, let me enlighten you. It all began with me describing a particularly evil bout of the flu that I incurred from the devil himself. My description sounded like something out of a Lady Gaga lyric. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, there are the similarities in our singing styles. My on-stage screaming for a Maties Drama production last year so closely resembles her singing style that it is actually uncanny. Also, apparently we’re both completely psycho but this is according to Thala who happens to be a Maritzburg College boy so I think that pot may be calling this kettle black.

So despite the urge I get to shove knives into my eardrums every time she opens her mouth I have come to the conclusion that the similarities are to prevalent to ignore. I am therefore going to Lady-Gaga-rise myself. All it takes is a trip to the butcher’s shop and punching a rainbow in the stomach in the hopes of getting the rainbow to vomit all over my granny’s wardrobe and I’ll be sorted. But first I needed to get my friends to start calling me Lady Kat.

Well, to be perfectly honest I didn’t try very hard but I couldn’t even convince Thala to call me Lady Kat and it was partly his idea. And after already having failed to convince my friends to rub Vicks on my back this week I decided it was to intimidating to try convincing them that I should be called Lady Kat. I have therefore decided I need new friends and interviews will begin after exams.

Please feel free to send me your CVs and take note that laughing at my jokes, calling me Lady Kat and rubbing Vicks into my back are all compulsory perks to being my friend. You should also take into account that I am open to bribery of various forms such as chocolate, wine and back massages.