If that turned around, I've grieve the special dirty things that we used to talk about.

It's my visceral-mental reaction to commitment that makes my eyes pop out of my head at every nice boy who smiles at me.

I met my first VCU male friend (read: hot guy that I want to--nevermind.) today. He was... Ah. Beautiful voice. Beautiful dark skin. Quiet but intense emotion behind his eyes and, oh. I wish. So who's going to be taking Biology next year? Hmm?

But

I WANT THIS.

I just need to give it a rest.

Where are all of these cuties when I am bitching about how lonely and unexciting my life is?!

This phenomenon, I had to put it in a song.

Shades of gold displayed naturally...?

I'm not a sentimentalist. I just sometimes find myself thinking things that would make good lines from romantic comedies. And for a girl like me, that's kind of a disgusting feeling, in the sense it's a little embarrassing. But I'm young, and I allowed to say things like that? (What is youth if it isn't love and angst. I don't think it's much more.)

I'm being a little shy now. All I want to say is that last night was nice. We talked for a long time under a sky that was lighting but no rain. It was so nice. He lent me his jacket.

Iiiiiii am not a sentimentalist.


There was, of course, a family reunion or party of some sort going on on a steamboat. Where they were blasting rap. A steamboat, on the Chesapeake Bay, blasting rap music: "I got a ho in the front, a bitch in the back." On a steamboat. That was amazing.

He says that I'm amazing.

I am not a sentimentalist.

I got another confession to make... I'm your fool.

If I said that I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow night as much as I am, then I' d be lying. (God, I hope you don't read this. I hope you don't read this. You probably read this, and it's oh. so. embarrassing.)

Bought a cute shirt today. I'll wear it tomorrow.



My brother has generously offered to do some Spring Cleaning on my life.

Wise men stay where fools rush in.

Aquarius Horoscope for 4/24:
You're unstoppable at your chosen task. This is the gift of your dynamic personality and charm. Once you take center stage, work matters will sort themselves out and suitors will toss themselves at your feet.


Oooooh, that's nice. That's really nice, actually. I've been wondering if I'm attractive in cycles, becomes it seems like said "suitors" will pay no attention to me at all for the longest time, and then I seem to get a couple interested parties at the same time. In an ideal world, I could spread people out, you know. Which sounds horrible, admittedly, because it makes it sound like none of my relationships last. I don't like to make premature judgments like that, but, I mean, hey, it'd be convenient.

(That's bad of you, Brandi. That's very, very bad.)

I'm only interested in one, really, and I think (hope) the feeling's mutual. Now I just gotta get over my critical error the last time we said goodbye; I've got to give him the opportunity to make it up to me, that's all.

As far as work matters go, I'll get this summer thing sorted out, even if I have to produce my own show. I don't want to waste my summer. So we'll see.

$3000 for my education: thank you, Norfolk Foundation.

Frank Sinatra is a great soundtrack for a life that has its ups and downs. Michael Bublé is a close second: ("And all on the leaves on the trees are falling to the sound of the breezes that blow, and I'm trying to please to the calling of your heartstrings that play soft and low.")

(I feel pretty, and when I feel pretty, I shop. Ohmigod, let's get some SHOES!)

To anything physical theater related.

Another disappointment, and I'm thinking

Give me something to believe in
'Cause I don't believe in you anymore, anymore
I wonder if it even makes a difference to try...?

Yeah, well I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand.

I'm not really a sentimentalist. But for once, it's nice to fall asleep grinning into your pillow.

(It's driving me crazy that you're not online when I am. I can't talk to you that way.)

Maybe I'm imagining, or over-analyzing, but there was a shift of posture at the end of the night that I didn't anticipate and all I can say is... damn. I wish I would've known (I would've obliged.)

Honestly...!

ATTENTION WORLD:

Amy Lee is not the only woman in Rock 'n Roll.










...at least, I think she's not. But I'll check on that and get back to you.

It's hooooot in Topeka.

I'm exactly where you like me, you know...

So I have found two new contenders for the favorite rockstar pretty boy pseudo-divas of my heart.

Let me start by saying that Davey Havok is, and always will be, the prettiest boy in Rock 'n Roll.

One has only to watch any music video that A Fire Inside has ever produced and they will see that Davey Havok, along with being majestically beautiful, has quite a stage presence. He knows how to work the camera. And recently, I couldn't help but laugh to myself when I watched the newest AFI video for Miss Murder, their new single off of their recently-released album Decemberunderground. Within the first minute, Davey's already primping in front of a mirror, and looking quite beautiful while doing it as he flirts with the camera, striking 'Vogue' poses and giving the viewer his best bedroom eyes. I tell you, he does it like no woman ever could.

However, pretty-rock-frontman in very-theatrical-video seems to be the fashion lately, as I have noticed a recent increase in cosmetic use by alt-rock lead singers that would make any Procter & Gamble stockholder cream his pants and videos with plotlines that would make a cineaste's lip curl. Case in point number one:

30 Seconds to Mars frontman Jared Leto.

Jared Leto rose to fame as an actor, so it's pretty much implied that any video he does is going to be at least semi-dramatic. The video for 30 Sec.'s current single The Kill, however, is actually a very entertaining homage to Kubrick's The Shining. In fact, I have to laugh at this one: it actually just came on MTV2 as I'm writing this. The video begins with Leto's giving some very ominous exposition, then picks up again quickly with Leto, clad in a tuxedo, tails, and white gloves, eyes rimmed in kohl, singing directly to the camera.

I'll admit, when I first saw 30 Seconds to Mars in concert with Incubus back in 2003, I thought they sucked. They were a dull opening act, and their music didn't have enough energy behind it. Still, if you bought a copy of their CD, they would autograph it for you, and so I did what any wide-eyed 14-year-old would do; I bought it. Looking back on it, of course, I will never be able to let go of all the regret for the fact that I was A FOOT AWAY from Jared Leto and didn't even appreciate it. Now, after some time in the studio, their back with engaging rock that one can really appreciate, and I am a huge fan of their new sound. But back to what I was saying.

Jared Leto is certainly a beautiful man. He has the most amazing eyes, and the video producers refused to let this slip by when they captured plenty of overhead shots with doe-eyed Leto crooning into the camera. His too-black-to-be-natural hair is sideswept perfectly. The climax of the video only confirms his diva status, as a shirt-and-jeans clad Leto confronts a tuxedo-and-tails Leto, thrusting him against the wall as the tuxedo Leto throws his hands up and they scream the lyrics of the song at each others' faces. Who knew that one personality could be a top and one personality could be a bottom? It's sexy in a very, very disturbing way.

(As a side note, the video also features what one would, if we're still going in the same vein of the video, two halves of the same woman kissing each other on the lips. Earlier in the video, one of the other bandmembers is skating down the hallway when he peeks in to see a life-size teddy bear kneeling in front of a bed before a tuxedo-clad bandmember leans forward, the bear's head parallel to his lap. I am aware that there has been speculation as to Leto's sexuality, and this video is, you must admit, sending some pretty homoerotic messages. Still, it doesn't fail to be entertaining.)

There is also another pretty-frontman that deserves some recognition. Because where would the right-here, right-now rock scene be without the band that every I-liked-them-before-they-sold-out hipster loves to hate, Panic! at the Disco and their pretty lead singer, Brendon Urie.

Maybe it's just me, but it seems like Brendon Urie is using the magical medium of the music video to explore every acid-induced sexual fantasy he's ever had. Take, for one thing, Panic!'s recent hit, "I Write Sins, not Tragedies." I, myself, as an aspiring circus performer, love the concept: a circus troupe crashes a wedding where the bride is rumored to be less-than-faithful. What a beautiful wedding, croons Brendon, What a beautiful wedding says a brideman to LYRIC. Enter the lovely Mr. Urie, clad in a ringmaster's costume that looks like it was coordinated with pieces found at Goodwill, Victoria's Secret, and David Bowie's closet. He doesn't waste time in proceeding to make love to the screen, and, in the end, proves himself to be the real star of the video, bowler hat and all.

But you thought that would be enough, right? No, of course not. Panic!'s next installment proves to be even more epic, more theatrical, and a bigger chance for Brendon to strut his struff; "But It's Better If You Do" is a love story set in a ritzy, gilded 1940s speakeasy strip club. The video begins with a deep-voiced Brendon parodying sitcoms of the era in black and white, as his beautiful, but bathroom-clad wife begs him to stay home from "dinner with his friends." Whilst tying his bow tie, he tells her off, and slams the door as he exits the apartment, only to walk into the now-color street while he locks eyes with the camera and slowly, delicious removes his bow tie. Loosing his shirt, he approaches the door to the club and knocks, entering a world of beautiful, feathered women and burly bouncers in sequined Mardi-Gras masks. Scenes of Panic! in similar ceramic masks are incut with dancing by a bunch of uber-sexy 1940s strippers with big boobs. And what do you know--the sexiest, prettiest, most-feathered stripper of all happens to be giving Brendon the same bedroom look that he ensnares the camera with. They escape to a private room, just as the club is being busted by the police, and as Brendon takes off his mask to reveal his cosmetically-perfected face, the stripper takes off her mask to reveal that she's... his wife! It was a scenario I predicted from the first, but it's fun to watch, and, after a small altercation, the final snot of the video leaves them making out in the back of the police car.

Throughout the video, of course, Brendon is once again the featured actor, from his authentic, ribbon-adorned wardrobe to his painted masks, and his carefully dramatic performance is front and center.

And, for all my bitching, it's a trend that I'm starting to like. After all, if something has to be popular, it could at least involve a bunch of pretty boys in makeup, right? Oh yeah. :)

PS: Yo' Momma joke of the day: "Yo momma's so ugly, when your dad wants to have sex in the car he asks her to get out." (Oooooooooooh snap, son!)