last night, last minute, we went downtown to see brent's new band play at a cute little bar owned by a bunch of albanians. brent's band is basically heavy metal, and the band that went on before his was also heavy metal. although my attitude toward this type of music is generally "those kids and their damn music," i enjoyed listening to brent's band. the first band? not so much. the lead singer took his shirt off even before he started to play, as to show off his fantastically sculpted torso and chest. while i didn't exactly mind the view, this act struck me as incredibly cocky. at least give yourself a chance to pretend that you're too sweaty for your shirt, for crying out loud. yeesh.

brent designated me to be the band's photographer, and i think he may be sorely disappointed with this choice. while i'd like to think i have this inherently artistic talent towards all things- be it visual, literary, or pertaining to the arrangement of groceries- i'm actually more like a legless man attempting to model the latest style in khakis. something doesn't quite fit. i think some of the pictures turned out okay, but all the compositions looked better in my mind. stupid camera.

i really want to be "the best" at something. i get frustrated too easily. if the first three paragraphs of a story sound shitty, i don't keep trucking; i turn the computer off and go find a reality tv show to watch. then i say aloud to myself, "if i were that lady, i'd totally win the million dollar grand prize. she's obviously not trying hard enough."

anyhow, what i do want to do is be in charge of public relations/ marketing for somebody's local band. if i commit myself to the act, i think i might have some great ideas. and if the ideas turn out to be not-so-great, i'll just blame the band.