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A mixed bag [13 Dec 2004|03:32pm] [ mood | surprised ] A surprising cast list: Mike Irving the lead, Rebecca the female lead, Liz Barnett as Gladys, Zach Wade as Hines (how did that happen?), Danny's Prez, me--Hasler. Just a note about that: there's always an air of disappointment even with something you expect. At any rate, I don't necessarily understand the casting decisions. Maybe it's true that acting isn't really all that important. As long as you can sing and dance, fuck it, people'll get the point. Musicals. I tell ya. Word. -Zack Remarks: 12 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

It's MY journal, so I'll bore you with details [12 Dec 2004|01:35pm] [ mood | groggy ] I sang "Hey There," and after I got well into the song Mrs. Sargent slowly said, "Thank you," and everyone looked at me with relative surprise. "Za-ack," said Ms. Annese, and they told me how I had improved tenfold since last year's audition (go figure), how my voice resonated and filled with air, and Ms. A asked me if I had taken voice lessons, and then recommended them (along with dance/movement) when I said no. Then I started the other song and somehow forgot the words, so then Mrs. Sargent asked me to "say the rhythm." So I did, then she said, "No, just say the words--like you normally would--while Mrs. Haverly plays." It confused the hell out of me, to say the least, but I felt so pretty-good from the minute before I guess I didn't mind too much. A bunch of people were practicing the dance all day, which meant that the auditorium was home to the most obnoxious din imaginable--a combination of "Steam Heat" playing nonstop, girls practicing their singing, and plenty of people yelling to each other for no reason. The small cafeteria had DDR, which I tried and failed miserably at. But in my defense, the up arrow was broken. As for call-backs, I was disappointed in my reading. I was either tense, tired, or genuinely clueless. Ms. A made me read Hasler a couple times, and no one was read for Prez, which I'm hoping to get only 'cause I think it'll be fun. It's amazing, this musical--everyone goes through all this "pain" just to have fun. It's like sports, only emotional. It's probably not healthy. That said, people are way more intense than they should be; I'm perfectly calm, willing to accept whatever results are posted on Monday. Obviously I'm not going to not be optimistic, to not be selfish and hope for what I want--that just wouldn't be American of me. At any rate, afterwards I went home with Katharine and hung out with her and Taylor--at Becky's house eventually--for the rest of the day. I fell asleep on Becky's couch and she awoke me by spraying fucking water in my face. Word. -Zack Remarks: 8 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

White (Straight) Boys Can't Dance [10 Dec 2004|07:26pm] [ mood | confident ] I can't dance well at all. I can't sing for the life of me. Yet I'm trying out for this musical and actually enjoying it. After we practiced the dance--which I cannot do--a bit, Swaisgood played "Seven and a Half Cents" and I boisterously sang as Prez--off-key, naturally--and somehow entertained the crowd. This musical thing, I tell you. It's a paradox. Even Swaisgood said she hated this show, but we're doing it anyway and something tells me it's going to be a blast. There's this part in the dance where we're supposed to move our hips in and out without resorting to a pelvic thrust a la Pippin: SwaggeringGenius: I kept pelvic thrusting! SwaggeringGenius: Nina's like, "Stop that!" kayxipongalot: haha kayxipongalot: you're just a thrusting kind of guy kayxipongalot: some girls like that We'll see tomorrow what happens, of course. Auditions--especially musical ones--are wicked because you're forced to compare yourself to other people. It's not healthy; it's not fun; it's not too positive an experience. I won't worry about it, though. People are being way over-dramatic, even for a drama club. Lighten up, people. Lighten your hearts, and your (wives') heels. ;) Word. -Zack Remarks: 1 Arrogant Jerk "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Carol of the Bells [09 Dec 2004|09:25pm] [ mood | mellow ] The concert tonight went extremely well, even if Stage Band was weak. Weak, I say! But it's okay, because Joe was on the drums, and even if he didn't play the mother-fucking drums, it was still alright. We got great feedback for symphonic band--though who really pays attention to concerts anyway--and, yeah. So I'm becoming distant from perhaps the closest friend I've ever had, and that simply ain't cool. It simply can't happen. Tomorrow equals workshops for musical auditions, and I don't have a hat. I need a hat! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Also, I still have not acquired this so-called ability to "sing," despite my greatest efforts to land a pitch. I can pretend I'm singing an E-flat with great prestige--poise, even--but I'll be damned if it's anywhere close to an E-flat. This week has become Music Week, which is actually rather nice. It makes me feel good, these notes and whatnot. Keep it comin', world. Change this mood I've been in to something sweet and sultry. Word. -Zack Remarks: 1 Arrogant Jerk "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Am I sad, though? Maybe. [08 Dec 2004|10:07pm] [ mood | calm ] [ music | my entirely off-key singing of "Hey There" ] I get the feeling that everyone thinks I'm putting on an act, that there's no genuine Zack to get to know and love and all that nonsense. Where is the sincerity in life? God, it's all so complicated. Mom's driving back out to Syracuse again, because although her operation was successful--they replaced the bone in both of her legs--my aunt's having a few minor complications after surgery. Fluid in her lungs and all that. My mom apparently holds no trust in the American medical system, and is worried to no end. So, it's up to us men to keep the house in order again. God help us. I slept for almost four hours today, because I am a teenager and apparently have an abnormal biological representation of time. But it's okay, because I have 25 textbook pages of APUSH notes to do tonight, and that's not going to take long at all. Note my abysmal sense of sarcasm, too. Word. -Zack Remarks: Be a Smartass.

Chorus + Drums = More Energetic Chorus [07 Dec 2004|09:26pm] [ mood | enlightened ] [ music | The Little Mermaid - Under The Sea ] Every time I attend a concert at school as an audience member--there to simply enjoy the music and to see my friends perform--I understand what it means to be a music student, to appreciate music at its finest hour. Yet I never take my own progression seriously, particularly in band--I don't practice, especially, and I never "feel" the music while I'm playing. Nonetheless, it's comforting to sit there and understand exactly what's going on, to know who is performing and what is being performed, and how. For some reason, I looked at Candace and her hair was arranged in such a way that it reminded me of some unknown moment in the future, when I embark on the real world and maturity will reign supreme, rather than high school. Christmas will light the snow-laden street, and I will walk, with my hands in my pockets, to my own apartment, and I will stare at the sky and smile. I won't be in a hallway, treading from class to class with a backpack on, forgetting to smile at my friends, no matter how happy I am to see them. At the concert, I hugged everyone I saw and said, "Beautiful job," and my sincerity never faded; it was gorgeous, sitting there, listening to the work of people who, however unethusiastic they may be about the music sometimes, do love it. I can tell. Except Kate, of course. Word. -Zack Remarks: 3 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Hermione enters, and I go, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" in excitement [05 Dec 2004|02:55pm] [ mood | I wonder... ] I dreamt last night that I was at summer camp (for some reason) with Harry Potter and Spencer. Things were dandy, and I believe we even thwarted some evil villain's scheme (though there was no magic). Anyway, once Hermione showed up at the end, everyone was terribly excited--myself included, since I apparently had a crush on her--and Harry and Spencer, my best friends, stopped paying any attention whatsoever to me. They alienated me; anything I said was dismissed, and I felt like no one cared about me. I had to resort to waking up. You see what this is? This is an allegory, or an application, or whatever-the-hell--it's pretty much, in much more unusual terms, how I'm feeling recently, albeit slightly exaggerated. Maybe this'll all blow over; it has to. EDIT: Wow, that was angsty. Word. -Zack Remarks: 3 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

New TVs = sex [05 Dec 2004|12:31pm] [ mood | relieved ] I guess Mom wasn't "emotionally stable" enough to go today. Go figure. I still had to get up at 8. *grumble* Oh, and my room still isn't clean. I'd take a picture, but you'd be appalled. Word. -Zack Remarks: 5 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Shitty weekend, here I come [04 Dec 2004|05:05pm] [ mood | discontent ] [ music | Daft Punk - Harder, Faster, Better, Stronger ] My aunt, who's dying from breast cancer, apparently fell this morning and broke her already fragile leg, and Mom was terribly worried, woke me up, and told me I had to drive out to Syracuse with her to see her in the hospital. Well, wait a second, I said, this is my weekend, and I hate hospitals. "You're acting like a typical teenager," she said. I just remember having to call 9-1-1 for my grandfather, then visiting him before he had his gall bladder removed the next day. I was bored out of my mind, and it pains me to see anyone lying there helpless, too weak to recognize. Anyway, so I agreed to driving out there tomorrow and "seeing" her (read: waiting), so that's my Sunday. Today, my efforts are focused (well, until my recent two-hour break) on "cleaning" my room, which simply means organizing the unruly (three-foot) pile of clothes into some sort of navigable fashion. I managed to stuff most of the pants and socks/underwear into two drawers, but now I have fifty t-shirts to put somewhere, and the hanger space is almost full. O, lord, how do you women do it? Anyway, I can't seem to find a reason to be happy. I feel distant from my friends, unappreciated, disregarded, overlooked. I'm trying to give so much and getting so little in return--in some cases, getting hostility in return--and it's the same as it's always been. I'm not depressed, of course, just... disappointed. Grege and I are getting a new TV tonight. It's probably sad that, when the opportunity for a brand new TV arises, we plan on buying a 20" tube TV instead of a high-definition. But hey, we don't have money. Now we just need to smash the shitty one we have now. Damn, it feels good to be a gangster. Word. -Zack Remarks: 6 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Birthday wishes, bitches [03 Dec 2004|04:08pm] [ mood | trying not to take it personally ] Happy birthday, Emily! And while we're at it, let's just say the same to Syn for tomorrow. Anyway, today was a bad day. Not one of those everything-goes-wrong, trip-and-fall kind of bad days, but one of those subtly depressing, innocuous yet hurtful string of events. Am I being overlooked? Am I just a tropical fish with brown scales? Am I less likeable than I thought, or at least have been given the impression of by others? If that's true, then the people that I enjoy seeing simply aren't being sincere. That hurts. Remarks: 4 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

I'm a teenage loser, too [02 Dec 2004|09:13pm] [ mood | blank ] I know I'm not supposed to, out of moral, ethical, and philosophical duty, but I decided to watch The OC tonight. Thing is, there wasn't a moment I was even tempted to pay attention. At Seth kissing that girl: Oh, God, how predictable is this show? I'm ashamed now. Anyway, Shannon mentioned, facetiously, my terrible luck--and indeed, the inevitable continuation of that ill fate--with women, or girls, as it were, since it's high school and the -men in either gender is somewhat questionable. It made me wonder, though, exactly why the gods have set their will against me; perhaps it is so any eventual results will seem all that more genuine. Or maybe, as is probably the most sensible reason, it's entirely my fault and I've nothing to blame (even if that's not as fun). But enough emo! I'm good, basically, and there's no reason to complain. Musical auditions are in a week, and I'm already tired of the hype this fucking play gets. What about the fall play? 200 people who cared, and more than half of them were probably family and friends of the cast. The musical already gets attention before it's started: "What's the play this year?" The play. I understand why people like the musical. It's fun and it's lavish and people understand song and dance and things they don't have to think about. But why does it have to be so political? Why does everyone involved with the musical have to make it into a game of enthusiasm rather than a theatrical presentation? It's a tough paradox, really: although I might not care much for the way it's perceived, I'm still going to participate in the musical, and I'm still going to enjoy it with all my heart. Word. -Zack Remarks: 6 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Ramble ramble [30 Nov 2004|07:39pm] [ mood | lonely? ] Hey, happy birthday, Nora. Yesterday, at the Spotlight meeting, I had to plug the website and so I said, "As the resident nerd of Spotlight, I'm in charge of . . ." etc. First thing Mrs. Sargent says to me when I see her this morning: "Zack, I don't think you're a nerd. I've been around a lot of nerds in my day, and you're not one of them. You've got a little of that coolness thing going for you." So, at least now I can rest peacefully. Today during lunch I felt sad, lonely sad, too sad to be sad. Maybe I was just tired myself, or maybe I'm tired of things. No. I just needed a nap, a few people to talk to, and ice cream. The universal solution. Word. -Zack Remarks: 7 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

I went to Scouts tonight and talked with a dentist for half an hour about dentistry [29 Nov 2004|09:14pm] [ mood | tired ] I'm the youngest I'll ever be in my life. We've got this musical thing coming up and I'm actually a little excited about it--we'll see how that excitement fares when The List goes up, of course. I need to accomplish something. I don't care what it is--I just want my name out there. A Contribution to Society, by Harold Quinn (pseudonyms are always fun). But man, I'm the youngest I'll ever be for the rest of my entire life. How cool is that? Remarks: 5 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

An Essay [28 Nov 2004|02:17am] [ mood | isolated ] My grandpa bought a novelty cookie jar that looks like a cop and every time you open it its eyes and mouth move and it says: "Stop! Move away from the cookie jar." It doesn't say anything else, of course, but why does it need to when what it already says is so profound? Also, my hair is creeping down in front of my eyes, tickling my cornea and forcing me to swat it back suavely behind my ears. I feel like a girl; I need either a rubber band or a haircut, unless anyone knows of any open auditions for Cousin Itt. Here, in Buffalo, I'm in total isolation from life back "home." Although I like the living conditions here much, much better than in the apartment (cable TV, a witty father, armchairs, Pepsi), I can't help but miss my life. I miss people. Sure, I'm enjoying my break, and usually I'm too busy being bored (read: relaxing) to think about it, but I really do cherish the moments I'm with my friends. I called Katie today, for no real reason, and it wasn't too enthralling a conversation, but despite its dismissive, droll-beat nature, I cherished it, too. Dad and I watched James Bond movies on Spike just because they were on, and we laughed at all the cheesy wisecracks and special effects as we oogled over the Bond girls. (May takes it in stride--she'll say, "You think she sexy?" and laugh.) We had Cookies 'n Cream ice cream with banana slices, and I mixed in a bit of chocolate chip cookie (from DiBella's!). I sat there, perfectly content to waste away my vacation, knowing that, even if I haven't seen any of my friends in days, even if I wouldn't know if the Apocalypse had struck Henrietta, I don't get these periods of total isolation very often, and I might as well cherish them. Word. -Zack Remarks: 2 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

[25 Nov 2004|11:05pm] [ mood | worried ] My brother has been playing videogames for over five hours now. I'm concerned for his health, and my sanity. Remarks: 3 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

"Zack, leave some potatoes for the rest of us." [25 Nov 2004|02:58pm] [ mood | triptophan'ed ] Yesterday I ran into a few... complications concerning my stepdad. I won't go into depth now--perhaps later--but just know that my parents are a little crass and that I broke down harder than I have in a long, long time. Yes, I'm a wuss. But Kate, I can't thank you enough for being there. Jesus Christ, I love you. My stomach is all full of turkey and mashed potatoes and rolls--the only things I really eat on Thanksgiving--and I'm happy as a clam if a clam were happy. I haven't fallen asleep yet, of course, but all in due time. Metroid Prime 2 is pretty fly, I must say. It gets annoying having to scan everything in sight, but it's also a lot more fluid than the first one. Almost awkwardly more fluid, but heh, awesome nonetheless. I promise: this journal will become more interesting shortly. Or, at least, I'll say it is. Word. -Zack Remarks: 1 Arrogant Jerk "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

"One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them." [23 Nov 2004|07:59pm] [ mood | tired ] Here I am, eating Taco Bell, after a strenous day of uncomfortable school-bus rides and the theatre, and I'm getting rather sick of tacos. The theatre, though, was tremendous. The Importance of Being Earnest = good. Our relationship is like a cactus. I treasure it, though, above all else--just thought you should know. Muffins. Word. -Zack Remarks: 2 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

I sort of miss it, you know [22 Nov 2004|03:48pm] [ mood | confused as to what to do ] Well, now the show is over, and so it's time to get back to doing nothing after school. Tonight I might go to scouts, though, or apply at Regal, who knows. Tomorrow: Shaw Festival and The Importance of Being Ernest. Sweet! There are plenty of inside jokes from the show, things like "Turkey with a top hat!" and "Eh? Eh?" and "Where doth the keg?" but I'm not going to get into those. Instead I'll let them linger in our memories, remnants of a show that, quite frankly, means a lot to me. Today started off with Mr. Tallman's 80-minute lecture/pow-wow devoted to Native American music and dance, and it was boring except for the times it wasn't. That's the only way I can describe it. Long story short, were we Native Americans, Amy Schnitzler and I would officially be dating. Huzzah! Study block brought a wonderful discussion to light, as studying Manifest Destiny can only lead to recalling that awesome Oregon Trail computer game from the 1930s. I remembered that section at the end where you have to navigate the river, and thought, "Wouldn't it have been so much cooler if there was some obstacle other than rocks, like a giant spider-monster that went AAAAUUUUUHIISSSSSS?" Joe agreed. Anyway, check it out! ( Porn! ) Oh, baby. That was hot. Word. -Zack Remarks: 4 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

Their compliments were only routine [21 Nov 2004|12:28pm] [ mood | lonely ] Everyone's been saying how wonderful I've been this weekend, how I should pursue a career in theater. Yet I still feel like there's something missing, if not on stage then in my life. I'm tired of optimism. How 'bout reality for a change? Remarks: 6 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

"Oh, my God! It's a penis with a top hat!" ... "It's going flaccid!" [20 Nov 2004|11:34am] [ mood | giddy ] So opening night went wonderfully. Leigh gave me flowers, my first flowers evah, which means either she rocks or everyone else is a bum. Dad was there, though--with May, and Grandpa! I told him, "I didn't expect you to come" and he said with his trademark smart-ass smile, "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world." We went to Tully's Jay's and ordered Saltinkles, and the waiter actually brought the ingredients out for us. Then we had sundaes and French fries and told jokes and enjoyed each other's company. The love in the air, besides the teenager over-enthusiasm about everything, was amazing. Tonight is the last time we'll ever run the show--and Katie, we've yet to peak. We're Beatrice and Benedick, damn it. Word. -Zack Remarks: 4 Arrogant Jerks "@#&$!" Be a Smartass.

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