This blog is in dire need of a positive post that has nothing to do with home invasions, parties and panties. Let's put the shady Katie sublet drama aside for a second and focus on something more constructive, say, the release of friend's book? I couldn't think of a better way to turn the tide. Today I am so proud to announce the release of my dear friend Brett Sills first novel "My Sweet Saga", his love letter to Sweden. And yes, I am shamelessly plugging his book. I love this guy.
Brett and I met back in 1996 when kids our age were experimenting with bong hits and beer pong at suburban house parties. Us on the other hand could be found on Friday nights, nerding out in AOL Indie Rock chat rooms where heated debates on whether the at-the-time newly released album of Pavement's 'Brighten the Corners' was better than the Indie darling album 'Slanted and Enchanted' and if Sleater-Kinney was selling out because they were featured in Spin Magazine's 'Top 10 to Watch' were had. Along with Brett, was musician Adam Green, artist Devon Costello, tv/radio personality Jake Fogelnest and Yoko. Within these cyberwalls the Indie Rock brat pack was born.
Discussions in these chatrooms were taken with as seriousness as a political debate and while the boys got away with letting their opinions run free. Me being one of the few token girls allowed in the Indie Rock Boy's club, had to choose my words gingerly which would usually get lost in one of Jake's multi-lined rants about a cute girl he had seen at the show earlier that evening and asking us if we thought she dug him. Of course she did, they always did. Jake was a babe magnet who had a show on MTV that he filmed out of his bedroom. Major points, especially at 15.
1996, a gilded time where there was always an essence of blood flavor in my mouth from the wires of my braces scraping the back walls of my mouth, pastel colored sparkle eyeshadow crusting up on the lids of my eyes and life decisions were deciding whether we were all going to meet up at Other Music or Ray's Pizza on St. Marks. Life was good. The 90's was a lovely time to be a teenager, good music was easy to find, MTV played videos, the economy was booming and text messaging didn't exist. Paradise. Anyone who knows me, knows that I think that text messaging is the downfall of social interaction and proper communication. I absolutely despise it.
Once college came, the group slowly dissipated where Brett and I both went off to the Pacific Northwest for school. Him, Portland, Oregon at the renowned liberal arts school, Reed College and me, Olympia, Washington to the "festive" liberal everything school, Evergreen State College. To the present, where he is now a successful writer living in Los Angeles and me a starving blogger living in Paris. I'm just the fucked up watered down version of him.
