I'd like to think that I have all the willpower in the world to do, and not do, whatever I need. I can take one look at myself in the mirror and I know that is absolute bullshit.
I'm ignoring my urges to immerse myself in any kind of romance. I don't have a problem with actually immersing myself in such a situation because I don't usually succeed in fulfilling said urge.
When I was 12 years old I developed a crush on my good friend, Nicole Thomas. She was a bright tomboyish girl who was beautiful and funny and I thought we got along very well. Eventually she caught wind of this. Most of my friends weren't really up to the task of admitting they liked the girls they liked back then, so this was odd. Needless to say she wasn't interested in this. She told my sad little young self that she usually stopped being friends with boys when they developed crushes on her. Harsh, I know.
That started a long history of rejection and not even bothering to try. And now: I continue.
Playlist: Matt and Kim, Jesus Fuck the Sun(yeah, I've been listening to the new shit alot), Algernon Cadwallader
Friday, April 11, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Crummy (for Natalie)
The last month has been quite up and down. I haven't had any work, and that is bad. I got my records back and kissed a girl. That wasn't so bad. I haven't written in here for far too long. That's bad. Alright, I guess it was mostly down. And to top it all off I can't stop thinking about you, Jessica Flores. I want to, and I even get upset about it. But this town has too much of you in it for me.
I blew it, I really did. Should I accept defeat now? Should I believe in the fact that I probably won't ever find somebody I connect with that way again?
Probably not.
I keep trying to make it happen. I used to just let things happen. That was the way I lived my life until I went away to school. Somehow I had this wild notion inserted into my brain that if you do not try and make things happen for yourself they NEVER WILL. This might be true when it comes to me getting jobs on movie or television sets, sure. Is it true when it comes to love, something that I, for the life of me, can't figure out why I am so obsessed about?
Ever since girls started to matter (the sixth grade), I have always wanted something I could probably never have. I have shown that to be false by ending up in three fairly serious relationships, and there hasn't really been too long of a dryspell in between the less than serious things. Somehow, though, I am always left wanting some kind of romance.
This tricks me into thinking things are far more serious than they are. A girl taking any time to talk to me leads me to believe she might be interested in me. Whatever happened to platonic friendship, Brett? Oh, right, it never existed. At least not right off the bat. You've had some form of mild crush on every girl you were ever friends with. Don't worry, ladyfriends, these are usually brief and defeating once I realize they will never go anywhere.
So, why can't I ignore this bullshit? Why can't I just wait until a girl comes along that I genuinely get along with very well, and that really wants me without me having to act like a jackass and go to some kind of awful bar or place I would never usually go to just to prove that I can "broaden my horizons" and that I am not a stuck up piece of shit? Fuck that. I am a stuck up piece of shit. But I'm kind of nice, and I can be very sweet, if I like you...
Fuck, there I go again, trying to sell myself.
What a whore.
I blew it, I really did. Should I accept defeat now? Should I believe in the fact that I probably won't ever find somebody I connect with that way again?
Probably not.
I keep trying to make it happen. I used to just let things happen. That was the way I lived my life until I went away to school. Somehow I had this wild notion inserted into my brain that if you do not try and make things happen for yourself they NEVER WILL. This might be true when it comes to me getting jobs on movie or television sets, sure. Is it true when it comes to love, something that I, for the life of me, can't figure out why I am so obsessed about?
Ever since girls started to matter (the sixth grade), I have always wanted something I could probably never have. I have shown that to be false by ending up in three fairly serious relationships, and there hasn't really been too long of a dryspell in between the less than serious things. Somehow, though, I am always left wanting some kind of romance.
This tricks me into thinking things are far more serious than they are. A girl taking any time to talk to me leads me to believe she might be interested in me. Whatever happened to platonic friendship, Brett? Oh, right, it never existed. At least not right off the bat. You've had some form of mild crush on every girl you were ever friends with. Don't worry, ladyfriends, these are usually brief and defeating once I realize they will never go anywhere.
So, why can't I ignore this bullshit? Why can't I just wait until a girl comes along that I genuinely get along with very well, and that really wants me without me having to act like a jackass and go to some kind of awful bar or place I would never usually go to just to prove that I can "broaden my horizons" and that I am not a stuck up piece of shit? Fuck that. I am a stuck up piece of shit. But I'm kind of nice, and I can be very sweet, if I like you...
Fuck, there I go again, trying to sell myself.
What a whore.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
What a slum.
I went to the office, after saying good bye to my uncle. I was told that the place I needed to be was down the street. I was escorted down the stairs and back out onto the street. Hastings street. It was cold and not that nice out, though earlier in the day it had been slightly sunny. I could see my breath either way and I was very nervous. New country, new people, new institution, new new new.
We made our way down hastings past the sketchy looking memorial park, and another block down we found our way around the corner into 420 Homer street. It was slick looking inside, and everything was very new and exciting. I was pushed through the door and smacked in the head with the booming voice of George Johnson. He told me I hadn't missed too much but I would have to work hard to catch up. Thanks for keeping up appearances George! I sat awkwardly in the front with my huge jacket and prepared to take notes. We watched a few short documentaries shot at VFS that day.
Also I was introduced to some people. George asked Jason Segal to show me the ropes. He was kind of the leader of a group of dudes made up of Dave Sarneki, Levon Motut, and himself. The young guys. I didn't really fit but I went out of my way to be nice because they seemed to be nice enough.
We broke because class had already been going for a good two hours by that point and a tall cute skinny girl kind of walked up to me and I think she even shook my hand. Her name was Monique and she was pretty. I don't remember meeting anyone else that day but I'm sure it happened. I don't really remember the rest of that day at all. I think that was the only class for the day at all, or maybe we went to lunch somewhere or something like that. I didn't have a camera so there were no pictures.
These memories will become clearer with time, they usually do anyway.
Playlist: STILL THE FUCKING HALO BENDERS AND BEER.
We made our way down hastings past the sketchy looking memorial park, and another block down we found our way around the corner into 420 Homer street. It was slick looking inside, and everything was very new and exciting. I was pushed through the door and smacked in the head with the booming voice of George Johnson. He told me I hadn't missed too much but I would have to work hard to catch up. Thanks for keeping up appearances George! I sat awkwardly in the front with my huge jacket and prepared to take notes. We watched a few short documentaries shot at VFS that day.
Also I was introduced to some people. George asked Jason Segal to show me the ropes. He was kind of the leader of a group of dudes made up of Dave Sarneki, Levon Motut, and himself. The young guys. I didn't really fit but I went out of my way to be nice because they seemed to be nice enough.
We broke because class had already been going for a good two hours by that point and a tall cute skinny girl kind of walked up to me and I think she even shook my hand. Her name was Monique and she was pretty. I don't remember meeting anyone else that day but I'm sure it happened. I don't really remember the rest of that day at all. I think that was the only class for the day at all, or maybe we went to lunch somewhere or something like that. I didn't have a camera so there were no pictures.
These memories will become clearer with time, they usually do anyway.
Playlist: STILL THE FUCKING HALO BENDERS AND BEER.
Will work for love.
Deja vu makes me think I have probably dreamed things before. Earlier I was gathering laundry and I dropped something and when I bent over to pick it up it just seemed so familiar. The whole situation, everything about it, even my station in life. Did I really predict that I would be single, living with my parents again after going away to school for a year to myself, and then kind of forget it a year or two ago?
I was thinking, what if there were a dude who had a dream about dying and in this dream everything seems normal and he is taking a shower. When he steps out of the shower his bathroom tile is more slick than he anticipates and he falls, his head breaking bits of tile off the wall and sending them flying. The miniature tile/shrapnel come back down from the sky in which they flew with great velocity and embed themselves into our protagonists throat, severing his carotid artery. He woke up scared but didn't remember it the next day. As people often will, he forgot about this dream. Business goes on as usual for the next week, year, whatever. One morning he wakes up extra glassy eyed from last nights binge behavior and hops in the shower. Everything is going fine, but when he turns off that shower he has a pause. This is so familiar, he thinks. He reaches out for his towel, and then looks down and remembers he decided to wash the bathmat a day ago and didn't put it back in its place yet. His brow furrows for but a moment, and then panic spreads across his face as that fleeting moment of recall shoots through his brain and he can almost remember what the problem might be.
What would you do? Get out, or air dry your body crouched and cowering in the cold cold bathtub?
Playlist: the Halo Benders, Blue Moon Honey Moon Summer Ale(it's still good!)
I was thinking, what if there were a dude who had a dream about dying and in this dream everything seems normal and he is taking a shower. When he steps out of the shower his bathroom tile is more slick than he anticipates and he falls, his head breaking bits of tile off the wall and sending them flying. The miniature tile/shrapnel come back down from the sky in which they flew with great velocity and embed themselves into our protagonists throat, severing his carotid artery. He woke up scared but didn't remember it the next day. As people often will, he forgot about this dream. Business goes on as usual for the next week, year, whatever. One morning he wakes up extra glassy eyed from last nights binge behavior and hops in the shower. Everything is going fine, but when he turns off that shower he has a pause. This is so familiar, he thinks. He reaches out for his towel, and then looks down and remembers he decided to wash the bathmat a day ago and didn't put it back in its place yet. His brow furrows for but a moment, and then panic spreads across his face as that fleeting moment of recall shoots through his brain and he can almost remember what the problem might be.
What would you do? Get out, or air dry your body crouched and cowering in the cold cold bathtub?
Playlist: the Halo Benders, Blue Moon Honey Moon Summer Ale(it's still good!)
Friday, February 15, 2008
Take the Cross Out Ya Pussy
I have a friend who can sing my feelings. We have a connection that is unspoken and comforting and sometimes frustrating. It somehow manages to remain healthy. At least I think it is healthy, anyway.
I met Nicole when I was only 16 years old. I would sleep over at my friend Joe's house, after band practice most weeks. Nicole was Joe's friend and one Christmas she brought me a present. It was a pez despenser and some pez candy. I didn't understand why she would do this because as far as we all knew she had a really big crush on my best friend Chris, who was also in our band. Nicole, however seemed to have waning interest in Chris, because she started coming around more and more often whenever I was there. Eventually she tried to get me together with her friend Amber, which worked out kind of except Amber had a boyfriend and the situation was poor. Nicole and I eventually ended up together for what seemed like a decade or something to my puny adolescent brain and heart, but was in reality about a year and a half. That's one, maybe two birthdays. Her first car and my drivers license, the breakup of my first band and the beginning and end of my second bad, my highschool graduation, seeing David Spade at the RIO, seeing Blue Man Group at the Luxor(instead of playing my second bands last show), you know, memories, things of that nature.
It wasn't a healthy relationship. It was terribly unhealthy. We were both so insecure and latching onto each other like that at such a young age couldn't have been a good thing. Eventually she started looking elsewhere and all I could do was sit around and be sad. She ended up cheating on me with Joe(mentioned above), and with some random guy who she worked with. I was devastated. My feeble young heart and mind(mentioned above) were in a shambles and I suspect they probably still haven't recovered. I was 18 when it all ended and I'm 24 now. She kept coming around and trying to spoil anything I managed to eek out for myself after that for a while. She succeeded.
Now we're strangers. Eventually I told her I could never talk to her again and I haven't yet. I haven't run into her since I've returned to Las Vegas and I could only imagine what it would be like if we did run into each other. My guess is awkward.
I haven't spoken to Jessica, the girl I was in love with and lived with for a few months now. After all of these years all I am really left with is another stranger who knows me way too well for my own comfort.
Playlist: Modest Mouse, Lamps(live), Monique Noir, Japanther, the Rentals
I met Nicole when I was only 16 years old. I would sleep over at my friend Joe's house, after band practice most weeks. Nicole was Joe's friend and one Christmas she brought me a present. It was a pez despenser and some pez candy. I didn't understand why she would do this because as far as we all knew she had a really big crush on my best friend Chris, who was also in our band. Nicole, however seemed to have waning interest in Chris, because she started coming around more and more often whenever I was there. Eventually she tried to get me together with her friend Amber, which worked out kind of except Amber had a boyfriend and the situation was poor. Nicole and I eventually ended up together for what seemed like a decade or something to my puny adolescent brain and heart, but was in reality about a year and a half. That's one, maybe two birthdays. Her first car and my drivers license, the breakup of my first band and the beginning and end of my second bad, my highschool graduation, seeing David Spade at the RIO, seeing Blue Man Group at the Luxor(instead of playing my second bands last show), you know, memories, things of that nature.
It wasn't a healthy relationship. It was terribly unhealthy. We were both so insecure and latching onto each other like that at such a young age couldn't have been a good thing. Eventually she started looking elsewhere and all I could do was sit around and be sad. She ended up cheating on me with Joe(mentioned above), and with some random guy who she worked with. I was devastated. My feeble young heart and mind(mentioned above) were in a shambles and I suspect they probably still haven't recovered. I was 18 when it all ended and I'm 24 now. She kept coming around and trying to spoil anything I managed to eek out for myself after that for a while. She succeeded.
Now we're strangers. Eventually I told her I could never talk to her again and I haven't yet. I haven't run into her since I've returned to Las Vegas and I could only imagine what it would be like if we did run into each other. My guess is awkward.
I haven't spoken to Jessica, the girl I was in love with and lived with for a few months now. After all of these years all I am really left with is another stranger who knows me way too well for my own comfort.
Playlist: Modest Mouse, Lamps(live), Monique Noir, Japanther, the Rentals
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
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