Feeding the Andrei Obsession

Getting an email, even an automated one, shouldn’t be so damned exciting as to make me go instantly to a website to see a video. But the one I got about Andrei Andrei’s new video on his blog sent me instantly racing to see it. Feeding my obsession can sometimes be damned rewarding, but this one was a little disappointing. Now, I do have to say that the music was better in this video than the last one. However, there is much less of Andrei, which was the disappointment. It’s got some startling imagery, but still, visually speaking, the first music video was better because there was so much more Andrei. The weird thing about both of these videos is that I have no clue what language either of them is in.

Americans are so arrogant, you know. Especially about music. If musicians aren’t singing in English, we don’t even consider them a viable talent. The second video, the one shot in a museum in Romania, that woman can sing. I like her voice. The first video, the one shot in Lebanon, that music and singer sucks ass. It could be the style of music that turns me off rather than the singer herself, but I just didn’t like it.

One would think, having been classically trained and having sung in French, German, Italian, Spanish, and Latin, as well as English, that I wouldn’t be as arrogant as most Americans. I am. I admit it. I have blinders on just like a lot of other people. Okay, maybe my blinders aren’t as big as other people’s. I like Shakira. I like Andrea Bocelli. I like Leslie Feist. Shakira sings in Spanish, Andrea in Italian, and Feist in French. None of them are Jim Morrison, but hey, I like ’em!

So, yeah, The End has still been playing in my head. That and Nikki Sixx’s Heroin Diaries. Both deal with death so I guess you could say the whole Heath Ledger tragedy is still in the back of my head. The thing I keep wondering is how it would feel to be Naomi Watts. I mean, the woman was with him for years, longer than Michelle Williams was, even though they didn’t have a kid together. (Naomi had one with Liev Schreiber after she and Heath broke up.) I can’t imagine how devastated she must feel. You’re with someone for a long time but things don’t work out… Doesn’t mean a part of you doesn’t still love him, will always love him… Yeah, Naomi Watts is the one I feel for. They always appeared very devoted to one another in public so I imagine her grief is astounding.

To get back to the more happy and amusing things in life, here is a shout out to my bitch Shiny who is having a birthday today. May you be as big a goat girl at 90 as you are today! Luvs ya baby! MUAH!

That’s it for today folks. Laters!

The Video Shot in Romania

The Video Shot in Lebanon


The Man Who Was Left Behind

The picture above is Andrei Andrei. The one below is me and Paul. Don’t you think Paul looks a little like Andrei? Paul’s the man I had but couldn’t have. He’s the one I left behind. I think I left something behind with him too and it wasn’t my Nagel or my sheets from Neiman Marcus or even the half a gold heart on a chain… I think it was a little piece of me. Ah, well. Such is life.

From Hell to the Cemetery to a Blog

Well, here I am. I think. Wait… if I think then … I am. Ah, fuck it. This is an experiment. A writing/research kind of experiment. You see, I’m a writer. I write fiction. Mostly these days I write in a story called The Bar. It’s a paranormal cyber serial which means it’s an online soap opera story with vampires, werewolves, and just about any kind of creature you could imagine including *cough* humans. The story is told on a message board in posts. Sometimes in first person and sometimes in third.

I’m not the only writer at The Bar. Currently, there are seven of us and one is a man. We’re a diverse group. I’m the oldest and I live in Southern California. I think Alysse is the youngest. She lives in Hawaii. Then there’s Darrien. He lives in Scotland. Laurie in Wisconsin. Avalon in Spain. Mary in Arkansas and Jen in Indiana. Alysse, Dee and Laurie are all in their 20’s. Mary and Jen in their 30’s. I am the old woman in her 40’s which leads me to the reason for this blog.

See, I was looking for hot men to be the physical representation of characters in The Bar Story. I came across this hot Romanian model named Andrei Andrei. He’s got a blog.  I started reading his blog for shits and grins one day. His English is pretty good. I was surprised. I started watching the videos he posted and really liked the last one which was from a music video shoot in Lebanon. The music sucked ass but the video… which was all him and some girl, possibly the singer… was HOT! Damn he is fine! So I did something I rarely ever do… I posted a comment. My comment said he looked hot in the video and if he ever wanted a sugar mama in Southern California to look me up. Once I’d posted the comment it preyed on my fertile mind. I kept wondering what if…

What if a woman… an ordinary woman who aspired to be a romance writer… began haunting a male model’s blog? What if she was fascinated with him and his life? What if he was amused by her comments and the bits of her personality he could discern from her posts? What if he went looking and found her blog? What if he was secretly falling for her and she for him? What if he somehow got her address and showed up on her doorstep one day? Not looking for a sugar mama but looking for the woman whose blog posts had enthralled him. What if she was 15 years older than him, shy and not beautiful? Would he still love her? Could he win her? Would he want to?

So I guess being a webpage builder and writer but not a blogger I decided I’d better figure out what the hell it was like to have a blog. You’re supposed to write about what you know so this is my research project. I doubt Andrei Andrei will come by and read it and fall in love with me and show up on my doorstep but it’s a nice daydream for about 2 minutes. I’m too old for the hot young things now but I can look at them and remember what it was like to be with one. Besides, Andrei looks like a piece of my past and a man I had to leave behind.

Whoever said that being old and boring means you were always that way? I wasn’t. I have a past. A murky one with spikes of high romance and lust and lows of depression so dark and deep it’s a wonder I survived to type this here today. I went from Hell to the Cemetery (where I work now) to this Blog. If my teenage daughter reads this she’s gonna roll her eyes but at the same time she knows… Mom lived. I tried not to let life pass me by. If living meant grabbing the ass of some hot young man… well then, I guess I’ve lived. Righteously.

Laters peeps. Until the next time…

Just click if you’re interested in The Bar Story.