Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

Dear Diary,

Tonight I stood outside in the cool breeze, under the sky with few stars, only the moon and the planet Venus, and occasional airplanes. How different the world is where there is so much light at night that even when it feels dark we can not see the stars.

It was the year before Louis XIV, The Sun King, died. I did not find out that for another three hundred years. I had heard another group of Vampires had left for the New World. I missed the American Revolution. My own country, my own small bit of the world fell into chaos and ruin…

I stood under the night sky with the wind in my long honey colored hair fell to the small of my back. I wore a coat of the finest wine colored fabric trimmed with ribbons with gold thread. My boots were of the finest leather and the color of my jacket. My shirt was trimmed with lace. It would all have been approved of by the Sun King, or any king, because I, Vlad, was King of the Vampires.

Here I take a deep breath and wonder what the Hell happened. I was standing alone in my thoughts enjoying the night air in a Foreign land, returning from a trip to Italy, when the last thing I remember was the sight of a beautiful woman and a sharp pain in my heart. It had nothing to do with romantic thoughts.

My attackers, who are still unknown to me, sealed me in a crypt, and there I remained for the next three hundred years. My location was unknown to my family, friends, or allies. My citizens were without a leader and lost to the winds and ravages of marauding hordes. Those who were not slaughtered went into hiding. My friend Randolpho was one of them.

For three hundred years I lay in a state of trance like sleep, occasionally mixed with consciousness, unable to move, or cry out for help. I was dead, but undead, in a cruel state of hibernation. My heart had been stabbed with a stake but not fully pierced. My throat had been slit but my head not severed. It is rather disgusting now that I think of it.

Of course one can imagine what it was like when Randolpho and my love Gillian found me. First I heard the lock snap, and the gates of the crypt forced open, then the top of the tomb moved off, and then they opened the coffin.

“Oh shit,” was the first words that I heard, coming from the mouth of Randolpho.

Gillian bent over and kissed me. I opened my eyes. “It’s him,” she said in a now unfamiliar accent. “Let’s get him out of here.”

My fine clothing had all but rotted away. My hair was in tangles with years of bugs and mice having their children in my golden locks. When I awoke I found myself not in a coffin but in the softest of beds with sheets so softer than anything I could have imagined.

Everything smelled good. I smelled good like flowers and fresh spring herbs. I wore a soft robe, and drawstring pants. My hair was clean but now short to my collar. I often think of growing it long again but maybe not.

Gillian came in, not as I remembered her, corseted in a long gown and elaborate ringlets, but in a short skirt and a long jacket. Her hair was straight and down her back. The skirt was black leather, the jacket was a pink color I could not describe, her shirt was simple white lace. She smelled like oranges and roses. Later she told me it was grapefruit scented lotion. Her legs were showing. Almost all of her legs.

In all of my centuries I could have never imagined the modern world in which I had awakened into.

Louis XIV was the King of the Sun, and I was the King of the Moon.

Now I wear jeans. I am no longer King. As for Louis, alas he is still dead.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian said, “You could wear a burlap bag and you’d still be cute.”

“What is a burlap bag?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. The door bell rang and she left me standing, once again wondering what she was talking about.

I quickly looked up burlap bag on the Internet. Why would wearing a brown bag made of rough cloth make me cute? What did she mean by cute? Do I look like an onion or potato or coffee bean? Onions are not cute. I do not understand half of what she says to me.

Friends came to binge watch Netflix. I asked them once what Netflix represented. They told me that movies used to be called flicks because of how the film would flicker. They explained more but I was lost. I smiled and thanked them. Gillian and Randolpho tell me not to be overly concerned about the names of companies. I disagree. One never knows what might be lurking in secondary and secret meanings of names. They laugh at that. I scoff. I was not Vampire King for 306 years by not paying attention. The one time I did not pay attention I ended up in the 21st Century.

Randolpho and friends, Innocenzio D’Antonio, Jackie Rafferty and his girlfriend Willow came over. Gillian’s friend Elizabeth was also in the group. I have no kingdom but I have new Vampire friends.

Tonight we watched something called Queer Eye. In my wildest dreams I never imagined such a thing. We watched for five hours.

Five men go from town to town and fix the lives of other men who need fixing. They also help women, but mostly men. How do I say this… they are what is now called “Queer” or “Gay” which in this language means odd or happy, but also means they choose to be with romantic men.

Back when I was King of the Vampires in my old country and old centuries back world we did not care who anyone spent their time or lives with. It did not matter. We were Vampires and I was their King.

As a youth it did matter. There were men who were afraid of those who loved freely. They were violent against those who were not the same as them. That was my uncle and cousins who were unfortunately eaten by wolves or ended up somehow, mysteriously with their heads on posts.

They would torture me when I was young because they said I looked like a pretty girl rather than a boy. They also tried to take advantage of my sister and harm her. They were not the kind of Vampires who would binge watch Netflix. But they are no longer here and I look around my home and have decided that I need to how do I say, step up my game.

Alas clothing for men is so plain now. Everything looks good on me but it would be good to know what would look best on me.

Among the seven Vampires watching we used two entire boxes of what is called Kleenex while watching the shows. We might be Vampires but we are what do they call it, suckers for sentimentality and turning lives around. After all, that is what Vampires do. We turn lives around as well.

Antoni, Karamo, Tan, Bobby, and Jonathan made me laugh and think about style. I believe my hair would look good if it was styled the same as Tan’s. I do not like angels, as most Vampires do not, but in this case I believe Bobby is the human form of one.

When the sun came up and we decided to sleep, I wondered if Bobby would help an old Vampire design his guest chambers?

I almost stayed up to watch the rest of Season 2 without the others.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

In my bed, with Gillian asleep in my arms, I wondered how out of touch I am with the modern world. Maybe it is not that I am so out of touch as… I do not know. I seem to adapt.

It is a full moon. I wonder if I will hear the Werewolves howl tonight. I wonder if they will have their sinks clogged with fur. I wonder where they keep their clothing when they run as wolves. I wonder why even now Werewolves still dress in such tacky and distasteful clothing. I wonder if I get measured and order some new suits tomorrow how long it will take for me to get them. I wonder if ribbons and lace will ever be popular again for men to wear openly without shame?

Gillian runs her hand across my chest and up my neck. She never asks what I am thinking. She knows. Her cool touch to my face brings me out of my own thoughts.

“Do you think I need a Queer Eye?” I ask.

She smiles with a hint of fang. “No, just a few history books.”

Then she kisses me, and puts her naked leg over mine, and this is where I stop writing.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 39th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning (or randomly read them) CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

Cut and Color: Zombie Girl

Zombie Girl

Cut, Color, Play!

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Have fun and be stylish (even if you’re rotting and craving brains as if they were chocolate…hey I feel like that half the time and I’m a Vampire.)

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Color & Cut-out Modern Vampire Paper Dolls

Color and Cut-out Modern Vampire Paper Dolls

Set #1: Juliette and Clara

What could be more fun than paper dolls to get you started over the long weekend? Maybe a nice glass of wine and a good looking Vampire stud, but…

Tell Mr. Tall Dark & Handsome Vampire Stud to come back in a few hours – it is time to cut and color and have some creative fun! Crayons, pens, glitter, colored pencil all works great. Put tracing paper over the dolls and make your own make-to-fit outfits and design your own Halloween dresses and Fabulous Fall outfits!

Since my pens seemed to vanish into some sort of time warp or black hole or kid’s room – I’m just giving you quick pencil sketches today. And it will work fine after you get done with your fabulous coloring and embellishment!  You can draw in the faces too.

This is the first of several sets of Modern Vampire Paper Dolls featuring your favorite characters in my blog. Collect the entire set for hours of pre-Halloween fun!

My goal is to have more polished, stylized and a lot more “Gothic” designs in the future as part of Vampire Maman’s Countdown to Halloween.

So cut, color and PLAY!

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Juliette and Clara Paper Dolls: Print, color and cut-out fun!

Juliette and Clara Paper Dolls: Print, color and cut-out fun!

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Masquerade Fantasy

Last summer I did some sketches for the yearly Vampire Masquerade Ball costumes…here they are all in one posting.

Just quick pencil  and/or pen on paper.

I do more detailed pen and ink work but that is for another post.

Have fun!
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman and Costume Designer

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Vampire Maman Fashion

Our shirts will arrive sometime soon. How cool is that? Especially the second design.

I will wear mine with a black blazer, jeans and one of my zillion pairs of black shoes and of course just right dangling earrings.

vmvmmm

Ghost of a Chance for Romance

The sun was setting in the cool winter sky. While the rest of the country is having blizzards it is sweatshirt weather here in California. Perfect weather for romance. Perfect weather for being a Vampire.

My teenage son who is always surrounded by girls and a born flirt is off to a Valentine’s Day party at a friend’s house tonight. Gone are the days when new drivers can legally drive with a car full of their friends so my husband is taking Garrett and his friends Randy, Chloe and Ione.

Clara is going roller skating with her friends – their usual Friday night activity. She is in deep water with her dad for her cell phone addiction but that’s another post.

Teddy spent the day in San Francisco. Part of his business is dealing with estate jewelry. He delivered an engagement ring to a customer. The ring was first given to a bride in 1890. After the bride ran off with the grooms best friend the ring was given to someone in 1939. The young bride was widowed during the war and remarried in 1946. She sold the ring to a man who gave it to his daughter when she graduated from college. She died in India while looking for enlightenment and her boyfriend brought the ring back to the United States. He then sold it to Teddy who in turn sold the beautiful platinum and diamond wonder to a Vampire in San Francisco who planned on proposing to his true love. Speaking of which, I had always thought it would have been nice if one of my single brothers would have taken the ring but since neither one have steady girlfriends…oh well.

I fell out of my thoughts of the amazing ring when the ghost appeared next to me.

“I can tell by the look in your cold hard eyes that you’re thinking of romance.”

I told him the story of the ring. He looked out into the field where the girl ghost was dancing in the wind, the skirts of her long dress flowing behind her. She blew the ghost a kiss. He blew one back.

“She loves you.” I said, looking at the crazy carefree ghost girl with her blazing red curls.

“I never found love when I was alive,” said the ghost. “It was a obcessive ex-lover who caused my death, but I never loved her. She didn’t know how to love. She only knew how to possess.”

“I’m sorry.” I looked at his pale face framed by black hair.

“Don’t be. If I’d lived I would have never have met Mary. Honestly Juliette, unless I was a Vampire like you there would be no way I could have met a girl who was born in 1586, Funny how things work out that way.”

“That’s an interesting take on things.”

“I’m a realist. Of course being a ghost isn’t half as bad as being, well, as being a Vampire.”

“There is nothing wrong with being a Vampire.”

“Sure, if you’re into the whole drinking blood and living at night sort of thing.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

He gave me a rare smile. “I’m glad you’re happy too dear Vampire.”

Then he vanished as the sun went down and the first small bat flew across my back deck.

Good night and sweet dreams…of love and romance for all.

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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