Kissing strange girls

I have only had the pleasure of kissing a complete stranger once in my life. My band was playing a house show and my future ex girlfriend introduced me to her friend who decided that making out with me would be fun.

I know people that meet and make out with strangers. They do this in places like bars, and parties. I have never been that guy (except for that one time, I guess). It just does not work out that way for me. I think I need to get more of that out of the way before I decide it is not something I really want to do.

I tell myself it is something I don't really want to do. Thinking about it, making out with some random girl in front of people at a bar is probably making my cheeks red right now, but I think I should give it maybe one more shot. That one time I did it i remember enjoying it, but I was sixteen then. Whatever.


Playlist: Jens Lekman, Nada Surf, Crossed Out

Total Recall, Totally.

When I was in elementary school I was an intensely shy child. I was afraid of other children to a point that almost anyone could get away with bullying me. At one point it led to me peeing myself in my kindergarten gym class because I was afraid of asking the teacher to go use the bathroom. There I was sitting in a disgusting puddle of urine on the floor of the gymnasium, hoping that nobody would notice. They did notice, and I got to go home early, and I admitted to my mother that I was scared of the gym teacher lady. They made me talk to her about it, and the woman did not understand why I was so scared of her. She looked hurt, and told me I could always ask her for anything I needed. I do not understand why I was scared of her still.

When I was in the first grade I went to the restroom with a restroom pass, as was the standard procedure. Two older kids, I am not sure what grade they were in, came into the restroom being loud, and trying to act cool. Your regular everyday jerks. I was using the restroom stall, but I was pretty gun shy then, so I just kind of waited standing in the stall, hoping they would leave so I could pee. One of them kicked open the door to the stall, which had no lock on it. They both came in the stall and terrorized me. I did not pee myself, but I do remember crying. I did not fear for my physical safety, but they stole my hall pass out of my hand. I was convinced that I would be in a lot of trouble if I lost my hall pass, and also I was positive that I would never recognize these kids if I tried to rat them out because I could barely look them in the eye. They turned it into a sad game of monkey in the middle at one point, and then they left cackling down the hallway. I just sat there, relieved. They had taken the hall pass, but at least I got to pee(so much relief going on at this point).

I remember thinking if somebody caught me without my pass I would be damned to hell for all eternity, so I felt the genuine need to sneek back down the hall to class like a spy. When I got to the classroom my teacher, Mrs. Morris asked me where the hall pass was. I said I did not know and just kind of looked scared and sad, which I was. I do not recall ever telling any adults about this one though.

I had a similar experience in the sixth grade, but that is another entry.


Playlist: Paper Airplanes, Coffee, The Agent

I am here

Doing my best to pretend I don't care. Turning my back and not paying attention. Answering phone calls and feigning being a.o.k.

This begins an era of focus. I am focused from now on. I will be what I want to be and do what I want to do.

Also: I do not ever want to go back to Dino's again as long as I live. So I will probably see you there next weekend, or something.


Playlist: The Agent, The Promise Ring, The Old 97's, The The(no, not really)

Something Vague

I've never heard this song before. It seems really long.

"Don't look at your friends!"
"I'm self conscious, I can't help it."

After about an hour of this(not really) the song is over.
I feel ok.


Playlist: Built to Spill, Tom Waits, Man is the Bastard

Love, fast.

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

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.

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.