Well, I didn't win Poetry Out Loud. I didn't even get second. Worst of all, I don't even harbor any opinions on whether or not the winners were actually any better than me because we weren't allowed to see each other perform.
I was pretty well destroyed last night. This is in all likelihood the last poetry recitation contest I'll ever participate in, certainly the last national one. I think I'm pretty damn good at it, and now it's all over. The girl who won is a fucking tenth grader. I'm a senior, this was my last shot. Last year I got second place, and now this year I was supposedly a lot better than I had been last year. How could I not fucking win? How amazing were these girls? They were both girls, who were the top two, and it just so happens all four judges were female. Not that I'm insinuating anything.
I know, it's very subjective, and the scores were probably very close, blah blah blah. Nothing can make me feel any better about it.
In the end I spent so much time working on these poems, obsessing over my tone, my movements, everything, and it's all for nothing. I learned some poetry, learned a little about poetry, and maybe taking such a hard loss will better prepare me for the future. Maybe. But right now it all just feels so fucking stupid. What a god damn waste of time. Fucking judges. Fucking poetry. God I hate everything.
Anyway tomorrow morning is my audition for Temple. My mother thinks maybe they'll offer me a better deal than UArts, that the two schools may actually compete over me. But I don't know if Temple even offers scholarships based on your artistic potential like UArts does. I think the only thing they base scholarships on is academic standing, and going by that I'm not sure if I'm even good enough to be admitted at all. My guidance counselor says I might be meeting minimum requirements, but remember, this is a big school, and my grades are not very good. We'll see what happens though, at the very least it's another chance for feedback and to practice interviewing. Just another experience to throw into that big vat of experiences my stupid life has me going through, for better or worse.
My mother really freaked out at me tonight. Over just about everything, from how poor a student I am to how I quit drum lessons when I was eleven. I can never tell when she's genuinely mad or when she's just not feeling well, though tonight it's probably a little bit of both. Needless to say, I love my mother and will miss her when I leave, but I will definitely not miss her random crazy rants.
Time to focus on other things now, like music. Yeah, there's always that.
_Dr. M
P.S. I got the solo Those Canaan Days in the school show, and Brandon is Joseph, just like how I predicted. I'm pretty excited about it, I actually think we have a pretty good cast. Rehearsals start next week.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Snow Day
I slept all day today, due to school being canceled on account of the snow we got last night. Most of today it was raining, so the snow got all iced over and you couldn't even enjoy it. Pretty unfortunate. Anyway, yesterday I must not have done anything important since I can't really remember anything I did. I started reading The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. I can't tell you how long it's been since I read anything that wasn't for English class, but Rachel wanted us to read it together and it's supposed to be good. I'm enjoying it so far, it's the kind of storytelling that's humorous, but doesn't exist solely for the sake of humor, which is good. Also it makes lots of cultural references, but not in an annoying way, which I was afraid of.
I also started a list of all the CDs I want to buy. I figure this way I'll be more enthusiastic about doing it, when I have a running list. Why wouldn't I be enthusiastic, you ask? I still have to remind myself all the time why I want CDs in the first place (rather than itunes downloads), and the whole thing of buying them one at a time seems rather tedious. I'm actually going to buy like three albums at a time probably, all by different artists, at least to start. Then when I find which ones I like more I'll buy more of their albums and less of other people's. It's going to be fun, as long as I have money to do it with. Not sure how long that will last of course, with the way this job thing is working out. The thought occurred to me today that they might be looking to shut down the store I'm working at, as there are two other CVS's in Reading already. We'll see.
Tomorrow is the school Poetry Out Loud competition! I'm really excited, and nervous. With no school today it's going to be really weird having it already tomorrow evening. I'm still pretty confident, but we'll see what happens. Hopefully I'll be able to post some video from it online.
My computer is giving me problems. We updated some programs and then itunes and Logic stopped working. Only like the two most important programs on the computer. At least the web browser still works (besides it crashing about every half an hour). Dan's going to fix everything tomorrow, here's hoping it stays fixed. It gets more complicated all the time.
But this delays learning to use Logic another day, which is bad because I'm supposed to be starting a new album in February and I'd like to not have to use Garageband. I'm doing this online challenge where I have to complete a new album, ten songs or thirty minutes of material, in one month. That won't be hard at all, well, that is to say the album probably won't be very good, but at least it will get done. And it will completely shatter this non-recording rut I'm in.
I would rather we have had just a late start today, instead of cancellation, since now we get one less day of Easter vacation, and we didn't get to find out about school show. I'll find out tomorrow hopefully.
My computer is telling me there is an update available for the program Growl. Growl, I have no idea what you are or what you do, but I'm sure you don't really want me to update you, if I do you'll probably stop working. I'm sorry.
_Dr. M
I also started a list of all the CDs I want to buy. I figure this way I'll be more enthusiastic about doing it, when I have a running list. Why wouldn't I be enthusiastic, you ask? I still have to remind myself all the time why I want CDs in the first place (rather than itunes downloads), and the whole thing of buying them one at a time seems rather tedious. I'm actually going to buy like three albums at a time probably, all by different artists, at least to start. Then when I find which ones I like more I'll buy more of their albums and less of other people's. It's going to be fun, as long as I have money to do it with. Not sure how long that will last of course, with the way this job thing is working out. The thought occurred to me today that they might be looking to shut down the store I'm working at, as there are two other CVS's in Reading already. We'll see.
Tomorrow is the school Poetry Out Loud competition! I'm really excited, and nervous. With no school today it's going to be really weird having it already tomorrow evening. I'm still pretty confident, but we'll see what happens. Hopefully I'll be able to post some video from it online.
My computer is giving me problems. We updated some programs and then itunes and Logic stopped working. Only like the two most important programs on the computer. At least the web browser still works (besides it crashing about every half an hour). Dan's going to fix everything tomorrow, here's hoping it stays fixed. It gets more complicated all the time.
But this delays learning to use Logic another day, which is bad because I'm supposed to be starting a new album in February and I'd like to not have to use Garageband. I'm doing this online challenge where I have to complete a new album, ten songs or thirty minutes of material, in one month. That won't be hard at all, well, that is to say the album probably won't be very good, but at least it will get done. And it will completely shatter this non-recording rut I'm in.
I would rather we have had just a late start today, instead of cancellation, since now we get one less day of Easter vacation, and we didn't get to find out about school show. I'll find out tomorrow hopefully.
My computer is telling me there is an update available for the program Growl. Growl, I have no idea what you are or what you do, but I'm sure you don't really want me to update you, if I do you'll probably stop working. I'm sorry.
_Dr. M
Monday, January 26, 2009
An Exciting Week
I feel a little more energized this week. Maybe "energized" isn't the right word. Enthusiastic? Maybe. Well anyway, I'm excited about working on my music and learning Logic, among other things.
Wednesday the cast listing for Reading High's production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat will be posted after school. I have no idea what will happen. I would be happy with any of the three Josephs that sang for the part, in fact I didn't mind anybody who auditioned particularly, so I'm pretty excited about it. I'll be sure to let you all know.
I am indeed going to be representing my English class at the school-wide Poetry Out Loud competition which takes place on Thursday. I don't think I have any real competition, honestly. But I haven't seen any of the underclassmen perform, and it's quite possible one of them will completely blow me away. I don't think so though, I'm pretty confident. Confidence is key.
Then Saturday is my audition for Temple University. I'm not quite sure why I'm auditioning, I got accepted to my top choice and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to afford it, and I don't think I'm going to be accepted to Temple. But I'll go anyway, since the only things I have to do for it is get another portfolio together (this time with three songs instead of seven), show up, and interview.
We haven't mailed in the thing for UArts yet. To enroll they require a pretty hefty deposit for both tuition and for on-campus housing. We don't have to send them both in at once, though I would like to as soon as possible so I know I'll get into the dorm I want. I'm just so nervous this will still find a way to all fall apart, my mind will be much more at ease when it's all said and done and I'm enrolled and I know how I'll be paying for it.
Last weekend was County chorus. The performance wasn't that great, it was under-rehearsed and intonation was bad bad bad. It's over with, that's the most important thing. Now nothing is left in that area except for Regionals, which I'm mucho excited about. Gotta start learning that music!
Anywayz, that's about it for now. Chorus (the high school one) is really bad this semester, I think. Oh well, it's my last year.
_Dr. M
Wednesday the cast listing for Reading High's production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat will be posted after school. I have no idea what will happen. I would be happy with any of the three Josephs that sang for the part, in fact I didn't mind anybody who auditioned particularly, so I'm pretty excited about it. I'll be sure to let you all know.
I am indeed going to be representing my English class at the school-wide Poetry Out Loud competition which takes place on Thursday. I don't think I have any real competition, honestly. But I haven't seen any of the underclassmen perform, and it's quite possible one of them will completely blow me away. I don't think so though, I'm pretty confident. Confidence is key.
Then Saturday is my audition for Temple University. I'm not quite sure why I'm auditioning, I got accepted to my top choice and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to afford it, and I don't think I'm going to be accepted to Temple. But I'll go anyway, since the only things I have to do for it is get another portfolio together (this time with three songs instead of seven), show up, and interview.
We haven't mailed in the thing for UArts yet. To enroll they require a pretty hefty deposit for both tuition and for on-campus housing. We don't have to send them both in at once, though I would like to as soon as possible so I know I'll get into the dorm I want. I'm just so nervous this will still find a way to all fall apart, my mind will be much more at ease when it's all said and done and I'm enrolled and I know how I'll be paying for it.
Last weekend was County chorus. The performance wasn't that great, it was under-rehearsed and intonation was bad bad bad. It's over with, that's the most important thing. Now nothing is left in that area except for Regionals, which I'm mucho excited about. Gotta start learning that music!
Anywayz, that's about it for now. Chorus (the high school one) is really bad this semester, I think. Oh well, it's my last year.
_Dr. M
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Pick a Bale of Cotton
One in the morning. Never a better time for a probing question of art and life.
Here's the situation. We're doing a modern arrangement of the old folk tune Pick a Bale of Cotton for County Choir. It's a pretty interesting arrangement, I guess. It's certainly different.
When my mother saw that we were doing that song she thought it was a little weird. Now that I've been thinking about it, I think it is a little bit too. Let me see if I can explain what I mean.
I suppose the central question is, why that song? Why make an arrangement of it, why perform it? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that a song black slaves sang as they worked to try and keep their minds off the horrors they were being subjected to? The words are just, "Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton, jump down, turn around, pick a bale of hay, oh lordy, pick a bale of cotton, oh lordy, pick a bale of hay". We all learned it in grade school. And isn't that sort of where it belongs? As an important part of history, to teach young people about slavery, about the tragedies of the past and how far we've come (and how far we've yet to go)? Why make a bunch of rich white kids stand up on stage and sing a snazzy new arrangement of it, isn't that almost a little insulting? A little disrespectful?
There are so many good spirituals out there we could sing. Songs about God, about overcoming, about the spirit and perseverance of the negro slave, and many good arrangements of them too. Why sing about picking cotton? Why sing a song they only made up to keep from losing their minds, a song literally about what they were being forced to do? I don't know if there is a Nazi anthem, but if there were, it would be almost like singing that.
Maybe it's kind of catchy, maybe it's just fun to sing. But it's not just a fun song to sing. You're singing about picking cotton, for Christ's sake. Try to at least pretend to acknowledge the history there, how significant it still is.
I tried talking about this with Mr. Smith, but he didn't really get what I was saying. I think I'll try and talk to the guest conductor about it tomorrow, see what she thinks. I'm pretty sure she's the one who picked it, after all. She's a little flighty though, kind of a ditz, so maybe she won't get it either. Oh well.
It's now one thirty. Never a better time to eat cold pizza and ice cream and go to bed.
_Dr. M
Here's the situation. We're doing a modern arrangement of the old folk tune Pick a Bale of Cotton for County Choir. It's a pretty interesting arrangement, I guess. It's certainly different.
When my mother saw that we were doing that song she thought it was a little weird. Now that I've been thinking about it, I think it is a little bit too. Let me see if I can explain what I mean.
I suppose the central question is, why that song? Why make an arrangement of it, why perform it? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that a song black slaves sang as they worked to try and keep their minds off the horrors they were being subjected to? The words are just, "Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton, jump down, turn around, pick a bale of hay, oh lordy, pick a bale of cotton, oh lordy, pick a bale of hay". We all learned it in grade school. And isn't that sort of where it belongs? As an important part of history, to teach young people about slavery, about the tragedies of the past and how far we've come (and how far we've yet to go)? Why make a bunch of rich white kids stand up on stage and sing a snazzy new arrangement of it, isn't that almost a little insulting? A little disrespectful?
There are so many good spirituals out there we could sing. Songs about God, about overcoming, about the spirit and perseverance of the negro slave, and many good arrangements of them too. Why sing about picking cotton? Why sing a song they only made up to keep from losing their minds, a song literally about what they were being forced to do? I don't know if there is a Nazi anthem, but if there were, it would be almost like singing that.
Maybe it's kind of catchy, maybe it's just fun to sing. But it's not just a fun song to sing. You're singing about picking cotton, for Christ's sake. Try to at least pretend to acknowledge the history there, how significant it still is.
I tried talking about this with Mr. Smith, but he didn't really get what I was saying. I think I'll try and talk to the guest conductor about it tomorrow, see what she thinks. I'm pretty sure she's the one who picked it, after all. She's a little flighty though, kind of a ditz, so maybe she won't get it either. Oh well.
It's now one thirty. Never a better time to eat cold pizza and ice cream and go to bed.
_Dr. M
Friday, January 23, 2009
Auditions and Counties
I've averaging about one post every other day (among the days I have the ability to post). It's definitely not one post every day, but it's not too bad I guess.
Thursday's audition call-backs went well. They wanted three guys to sing for the part of Joseph, me Patrick and Brandon. I think Brandon will most definitely get it. I think I'm going to get the corny French song, which I don't mind, I like that song. Results will be posted next Wednesday.
Today was County Chorus, the lowest level choir festival. Usually it's before Districts, but they rotate things around and this year it was the week after Districts. Rehearsals ran during normal school hours, which I mostly slept through. Because of that I don't feel very qualified to comment on how well the group sounds. Apparently people weren't very well prepared (big surprise), but I like the music well enough. It's pretty. And we're doing a song called I Remember, which is from the Stephen Sondheim musical Evening Primrose. The song stands alone as a beautiful, melancholy little number, unfortunately the musical it's from was a made-for-TV throw-away whose only redeeming qualities seem to be the three great songs in it and the weird twist at the end (look it up if you like).
Tomorrow is the performance, hooray. I'll be glad when it's over.
I hope I'm not the only one who obsesses over things that don't really matter. Like, issues that seem a big deal in my mind, even though I know they're not. I keep going back and forth over whether I'd like to have a music collection that's completely digital, or if I'd still like to collect CDs. Who cares, right? I mean, it's not as if I even have any money to buy music now anyway. CVS has severely cut back my hours -I'm currently working three hours a week- and I don't know if that will improve any time ever, especially with me starting school show. It's just, music is important to me, and I'd like to just do one or the other. Stick to my guns, whatnot. I know CDs are swiftly becoming outmoded, but people have all kinds of crazy collections, and I thought it would be neat to have a CD collection. I still think it would be. It's just that, in some cases, CDs are more expensive than the standard $10 iTunes fee (other times less expensive), and then I always have to wait a week to actually get the music. It's less convenient.
I think I would still like to have CDs though. At the very least, they're a permanent back-up for my music collection in case of catastrophe (of the new computer variety). It's the one place I can always get the songs I want to listen to.
Rachel is now eating ice cream with her friend Zach. Well, him and some other people. Sometimes I feel like a broken record on this blog. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. I can't help how I feel. I don't ever plan on tapping her text messages or threatening to break up with her if she so much as looks at another guy, and I try to keep my feelings to myself (though she always picks up on it -I'm not a real subtle guy), but they're there all the same. We all have our problems, this is one of mine.
I've started writing poetry again, and I'd like to start working on a novel again. I repeat the word "again" so you're sure to get the idea that these are things I used to do pretty often, and enjoyed quite a bit, but lately have been too preoccupied with music to do. Also I don't think I'm a very good writer. I've never been able to finish a novel, but I think trying might be fun. I have a pretty good concept for one too. It sort of explores the nature of an anarchistic society, something as you know I've been thinking a lot about lately.
Every day I seem to think of a new project I'd like to take on. Every day goes by without me having done anything. This is just how my life has always been. Personally, I should really just be writing music. That's it. That's all I should be worrying about. I really need to get a notation program for this computer.
I really don't like these rambly posts I've been making lately. Every day I'd like to pick one topic to really explore and write about, and just do that and nothing else. That takes a little more discipline, but I'm sure it's easier to read. Posts like this sort of drag, just because the randomness takes away any kind of logical structure or flow.
Sometimes I wish I could talk about porn on this blog.
_Dr. M
Thursday's audition call-backs went well. They wanted three guys to sing for the part of Joseph, me Patrick and Brandon. I think Brandon will most definitely get it. I think I'm going to get the corny French song, which I don't mind, I like that song. Results will be posted next Wednesday.
Today was County Chorus, the lowest level choir festival. Usually it's before Districts, but they rotate things around and this year it was the week after Districts. Rehearsals ran during normal school hours, which I mostly slept through. Because of that I don't feel very qualified to comment on how well the group sounds. Apparently people weren't very well prepared (big surprise), but I like the music well enough. It's pretty. And we're doing a song called I Remember, which is from the Stephen Sondheim musical Evening Primrose. The song stands alone as a beautiful, melancholy little number, unfortunately the musical it's from was a made-for-TV throw-away whose only redeeming qualities seem to be the three great songs in it and the weird twist at the end (look it up if you like).
Tomorrow is the performance, hooray. I'll be glad when it's over.
I hope I'm not the only one who obsesses over things that don't really matter. Like, issues that seem a big deal in my mind, even though I know they're not. I keep going back and forth over whether I'd like to have a music collection that's completely digital, or if I'd still like to collect CDs. Who cares, right? I mean, it's not as if I even have any money to buy music now anyway. CVS has severely cut back my hours -I'm currently working three hours a week- and I don't know if that will improve any time ever, especially with me starting school show. It's just, music is important to me, and I'd like to just do one or the other. Stick to my guns, whatnot. I know CDs are swiftly becoming outmoded, but people have all kinds of crazy collections, and I thought it would be neat to have a CD collection. I still think it would be. It's just that, in some cases, CDs are more expensive than the standard $10 iTunes fee (other times less expensive), and then I always have to wait a week to actually get the music. It's less convenient.
I think I would still like to have CDs though. At the very least, they're a permanent back-up for my music collection in case of catastrophe (of the new computer variety). It's the one place I can always get the songs I want to listen to.
Rachel is now eating ice cream with her friend Zach. Well, him and some other people. Sometimes I feel like a broken record on this blog. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. Yes, I'm a jealous boyfriend. I can't help how I feel. I don't ever plan on tapping her text messages or threatening to break up with her if she so much as looks at another guy, and I try to keep my feelings to myself (though she always picks up on it -I'm not a real subtle guy), but they're there all the same. We all have our problems, this is one of mine.
I've started writing poetry again, and I'd like to start working on a novel again. I repeat the word "again" so you're sure to get the idea that these are things I used to do pretty often, and enjoyed quite a bit, but lately have been too preoccupied with music to do. Also I don't think I'm a very good writer. I've never been able to finish a novel, but I think trying might be fun. I have a pretty good concept for one too. It sort of explores the nature of an anarchistic society, something as you know I've been thinking a lot about lately.
Every day I seem to think of a new project I'd like to take on. Every day goes by without me having done anything. This is just how my life has always been. Personally, I should really just be writing music. That's it. That's all I should be worrying about. I really need to get a notation program for this computer.
I really don't like these rambly posts I've been making lately. Every day I'd like to pick one topic to really explore and write about, and just do that and nothing else. That takes a little more discipline, but I'm sure it's easier to read. Posts like this sort of drag, just because the randomness takes away any kind of logical structure or flow.
Sometimes I wish I could talk about porn on this blog.
_Dr. M
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Four Josephs
The first night of auditions finished yesterday (which was the singing auditions) and the second tonight (which was dancing), and I must say, competition is tight. There are four people IMO who could very well end up as Joseph, me, Patrick, Brandon, and Jeremy. We all sang Joseph's audition song, most importantly we all hit the high note, and we all could look the part. Right now I'd say Brandon is probably the most likely. Behind him is me, behind me is Patrick.
David (none of these names mean anything to you, unless you're somebody from Reading High, in which case you'd have to be either Khai or Rachel, or somebody I don't know about, in which case I hope whoever you are isn't a creepy stalker) sang it the best easily, but he's too short to play a lead. Such a shame, he has such a nice voice.
I've decided I'd except any role as long as I get my own song. The tricky thing is, any of the twelve brothers could theoretically sing any song, so no matter whose name I end up under when the cast listing is posted, it doesn't tell me anything about whether or not I have my own song (unless it's Joseph or the Pharaoh). But believe you me, if one month later we are well into rehearsals and all of the songs have been given to other people, I'm quitting the show like that *snaps*, no hesitation whatsoever. I sincerely doubt that would happen, but you never know.
I do hope to be Joseph, I'm going to try my hardest at the final round of auditions tomorrow (where they will undoubtedly have every guy sing every song), but I'd be a little surprised if I get the part. Pretty surprised. Very. But let's hope.
Today was a little annoying, just because I had to leave auditions for work earlier than I thought originally, so I didn't even get to do the dance audition. I learned the dance which is most important, but now I have to remember it so I can do it for tomorrow. Oh well, they know I can dance, I just have to worry most about looking like I'm having fun while dancing. I really do enjoy dancing. It's one of those things, you know? One of those things.
I'm very tempted to videotape tomorrow's audition, so I have something to refer back to when they horribly miscast the show, again. This production isn't without its concerns, already and we haven't even cast it yet. For instance, last night eight guys showed up to audition. We need at least twelve. Twelve brothers. Fortunately every guy who auditioned except one sang pretty well, so the guys we will get will hopefully not be too bad. We just need more of them. More showed up today, don't know if it was twelve or not. I don't know what they'll do if they can't get enough guys. Coop, the music director for the show (and my voice teacher), apparently isn't happy with them choosing this show to do. My dance teacher told me he was griping about it over the weekend. That's pretty unlike him, he's usually a positive sort of guy, so he must be pretty upset. I don't think it will be that bad. We'll have a lackluster show but we'll have fun doing it, as usual, and it will be woefully miscast and we'll move on and that will be that.
None of the girls had a very good audition. This also concerns me. There are twice as many of them, and they're all half as good. Hardly even that much.
Today was good though, because I had the first day of my new schedule in which I show up half an hour late for school, every day. This way I can sleep in as late as possible and still catch the end of homeroom if it decides to be first for no reason. In case you're wondering, when we all show up to school in the morning, usually we go to second period first, and then homeroom, and then third. We start at second because only the music kids and JROTC show up for first period, which is 7:30 every morning. Second is at 8:10. Except sometimes they change it so that homeroom is at 8:10. So I show up at 8:30, where I either sit on my tuckus and wait for second period to end, or I rush up to homeroom and sign my attendance card before I'm marked absent. Usually it's the former, though today it was the latter.
Poetry Out Loud is coming up sooner than I thought, which is pretty exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I need more time! I always need more time. Always.
Here's a checklist of things I must do soon:
1. Keep pressing my parents to get me a new social security card. Without it I can't get a PA ID, without a PA ID I can't take out my own checking account, which I must do soon.
2. Finish up the UArts forms and send them in -have to secure a spot in the dorms I want.
3. Finish up the guitar chords for Khai so he can practice.
4. Start learning Logic.
5. POL
6. Start going to bed earlier.
Goodnight.
_Dr. M
David (none of these names mean anything to you, unless you're somebody from Reading High, in which case you'd have to be either Khai or Rachel, or somebody I don't know about, in which case I hope whoever you are isn't a creepy stalker) sang it the best easily, but he's too short to play a lead. Such a shame, he has such a nice voice.
I've decided I'd except any role as long as I get my own song. The tricky thing is, any of the twelve brothers could theoretically sing any song, so no matter whose name I end up under when the cast listing is posted, it doesn't tell me anything about whether or not I have my own song (unless it's Joseph or the Pharaoh). But believe you me, if one month later we are well into rehearsals and all of the songs have been given to other people, I'm quitting the show like that *snaps*, no hesitation whatsoever. I sincerely doubt that would happen, but you never know.
I do hope to be Joseph, I'm going to try my hardest at the final round of auditions tomorrow (where they will undoubtedly have every guy sing every song), but I'd be a little surprised if I get the part. Pretty surprised. Very. But let's hope.
Today was a little annoying, just because I had to leave auditions for work earlier than I thought originally, so I didn't even get to do the dance audition. I learned the dance which is most important, but now I have to remember it so I can do it for tomorrow. Oh well, they know I can dance, I just have to worry most about looking like I'm having fun while dancing. I really do enjoy dancing. It's one of those things, you know? One of those things.
I'm very tempted to videotape tomorrow's audition, so I have something to refer back to when they horribly miscast the show, again. This production isn't without its concerns, already and we haven't even cast it yet. For instance, last night eight guys showed up to audition. We need at least twelve. Twelve brothers. Fortunately every guy who auditioned except one sang pretty well, so the guys we will get will hopefully not be too bad. We just need more of them. More showed up today, don't know if it was twelve or not. I don't know what they'll do if they can't get enough guys. Coop, the music director for the show (and my voice teacher), apparently isn't happy with them choosing this show to do. My dance teacher told me he was griping about it over the weekend. That's pretty unlike him, he's usually a positive sort of guy, so he must be pretty upset. I don't think it will be that bad. We'll have a lackluster show but we'll have fun doing it, as usual, and it will be woefully miscast and we'll move on and that will be that.
None of the girls had a very good audition. This also concerns me. There are twice as many of them, and they're all half as good. Hardly even that much.
Today was good though, because I had the first day of my new schedule in which I show up half an hour late for school, every day. This way I can sleep in as late as possible and still catch the end of homeroom if it decides to be first for no reason. In case you're wondering, when we all show up to school in the morning, usually we go to second period first, and then homeroom, and then third. We start at second because only the music kids and JROTC show up for first period, which is 7:30 every morning. Second is at 8:10. Except sometimes they change it so that homeroom is at 8:10. So I show up at 8:30, where I either sit on my tuckus and wait for second period to end, or I rush up to homeroom and sign my attendance card before I'm marked absent. Usually it's the former, though today it was the latter.
Poetry Out Loud is coming up sooner than I thought, which is pretty exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I need more time! I always need more time. Always.
Here's a checklist of things I must do soon:
1. Keep pressing my parents to get me a new social security card. Without it I can't get a PA ID, without a PA ID I can't take out my own checking account, which I must do soon.
2. Finish up the UArts forms and send them in -have to secure a spot in the dorms I want.
3. Finish up the guitar chords for Khai so he can practice.
4. Start learning Logic.
5. POL
6. Start going to bed earlier.
Goodnight.
_Dr. M
Monday, January 19, 2009
Districts, Rachel's birthday, Napenthi
Been a while since the last update! Right now it is snowing outside and it's very pretty. It's been a very cold weekend, which I like. I like how there's never anybody outside, all you have to do is step out your front door to be in complete and utter solitude.
So here's the story of the last five days. On Thursday morning me, my chorus teacher, and the tenor who made District choir drove up to Southern Lehigh where rehearsals were taking place. I liked the guest director who led the group a lot, with these festivals it can be a little hit or miss, but this guy I really liked. He was an excellent conductor, had a good personality, and really made you care about the music, which is the most important thing. People had prepared the music pretty well for the festival so in general we had two very good concerts Friday and Saturday. We got to have them in this nice big church with a real pipe organ for us to sing along with. I'll be getting a CD with Saturday's concert, and I'll probably post some of the tracks for you to hear.
As for the re-audition for regionals (which is the next level up), I lucked out and they picked a piece for the audition which I had already performed at another festival, so I had a pretty good audition and I made regionals easy. Now I have music for that to prepare in three weeks, so that will be fun.
Thinking about it almost made me want to be a choir director again, at a high school or college. Luckily that feeling didn't last long.
Saturday evening and Sunday I got to be with Rachel again, which of course was very nice. She came back for the weekend for her birthday. She didn't have a very good birthday, in fact it was really quite lame. Sunday for a party we went to her brother's house, where her brother and father watched a football game, her mother sort of lurked (she's that kind of person), and her brother and sister tried not to be bored to death. The two of us walked the dog, played with some blocks, and argued about the gift I gave her. Wednesday last week I went to the book store with my father to get her a book. I couldn't find what I was really looking for so I bought her an art book about optical illusions and visual deception. It's a very good book, but she claimed I was thinking more of myself when I bought it (because apparently I like that kind of thing more than she does). What's funny is I thought I was just buying her a good book.
No presents at all (except what I gave her) to unwrap, a tiny ice cream cake without any candles, we didn't even sing to her or anything. I don't even know if anybody else besides me and her had any cake.
Well anyway, her family is in general pretty insensitive and tend to regard each other with tepid indifference at all times. I'm always trying to tell her that, that her family is fucking weird, but she refuses to see it until something like this happens.
Back to the book. Me and Rachel have a long history of her not liking anything I buy her. She claims I don't listen to her, that even her room mate at college knows what she'd like better than I do. Last Christmas, I got her jam, a Bible with anime illustrations, and a wind chime. She didn't like any of it. But I had reasons! I got her jam because I knew how much she liked toast, she was always telling me how much she liked toast, so what goes better with toast than jam. And it was even special fancy jam. I knew she liked anime, and she didn't have a Bible, and it was a little corny but I thought maybe she'd like a combination of the two. And I thought the wind chime matched the decorations in her bedroom. I remember her telling me she disliked wind chimes, but a single tiny bell at the end hardly qualifies is as a "chime", it's more like a mobile than anything (especially if its indoors, hence no wind).
But the gift flopped hard anyway. I think she should feel lucky to get anything, I mean, it's pretty rude to complain about something somebody buys you no matter how close you are. Especially a nice big full-color book that obviously wasn't from the bargain bin. It sure is a lot nicer than what, say, her brother bought her, which was nothing. Oh well, I guess from now on I should just go with more obvious things, things I know she'll like. But it's so boring! I hate boring things.
But of course later in the evening we kissed and made up (and out) (ha ha j/k). She said at least the book will be a good distraction for me when she's busy with something and can't lavish me with the attention I so readily deserve.
She left this morning, and I look forward to seeing her again, hopefully around Valentine's Day.
If you're wondering what Napenthi is, it's the name of my new band. Well, sort of. I met with Khai the guitarist today to try and get something a little bit organized. We ironed out what songs we are going to prepare for a possible live performance on the first in two weeks (death doom destruction). He talks like he's really serious about this and knows how to play. I have my hopes, and my doubts, but there's no reason to give up before you start. Today I'm going to prepare practice tracks for him, just bass drums and chords, so when we meet this weekend he'll have his parts down slightly so we can see if we actually have something or not. I'm not going to make any judgments on the potential of this project until we've both had time to practice. Napenthi is a botched spelling of the word Nepenthe, which is a mythological drug of forgetfulness. I may need some Nepenthe after this week.
This week being school show auditions and all. I've been trying to let my voice rest yesterday and today, since it was pretty well tired after singing all day Thursday and Friday. Tomorrow is a half day, we get out at like noon (for the end of the semester), and then we'll have to come back for auditions at three. During that time I'm going to practice the song and make sure I can still sing it. It is very high, mind you. I'm a little anxious to have it over with. With any luck I won't get a good part and I won't have to do the show, or I'll get the lead. One or the other would be ideal. I kind of hope the directors don't read this blog.
That's all for now. I think I'm going to go watch the snow.
_Dr. M
So here's the story of the last five days. On Thursday morning me, my chorus teacher, and the tenor who made District choir drove up to Southern Lehigh where rehearsals were taking place. I liked the guest director who led the group a lot, with these festivals it can be a little hit or miss, but this guy I really liked. He was an excellent conductor, had a good personality, and really made you care about the music, which is the most important thing. People had prepared the music pretty well for the festival so in general we had two very good concerts Friday and Saturday. We got to have them in this nice big church with a real pipe organ for us to sing along with. I'll be getting a CD with Saturday's concert, and I'll probably post some of the tracks for you to hear.
As for the re-audition for regionals (which is the next level up), I lucked out and they picked a piece for the audition which I had already performed at another festival, so I had a pretty good audition and I made regionals easy. Now I have music for that to prepare in three weeks, so that will be fun.
Thinking about it almost made me want to be a choir director again, at a high school or college. Luckily that feeling didn't last long.
Saturday evening and Sunday I got to be with Rachel again, which of course was very nice. She came back for the weekend for her birthday. She didn't have a very good birthday, in fact it was really quite lame. Sunday for a party we went to her brother's house, where her brother and father watched a football game, her mother sort of lurked (she's that kind of person), and her brother and sister tried not to be bored to death. The two of us walked the dog, played with some blocks, and argued about the gift I gave her. Wednesday last week I went to the book store with my father to get her a book. I couldn't find what I was really looking for so I bought her an art book about optical illusions and visual deception. It's a very good book, but she claimed I was thinking more of myself when I bought it (because apparently I like that kind of thing more than she does). What's funny is I thought I was just buying her a good book.
No presents at all (except what I gave her) to unwrap, a tiny ice cream cake without any candles, we didn't even sing to her or anything. I don't even know if anybody else besides me and her had any cake.
Well anyway, her family is in general pretty insensitive and tend to regard each other with tepid indifference at all times. I'm always trying to tell her that, that her family is fucking weird, but she refuses to see it until something like this happens.
Back to the book. Me and Rachel have a long history of her not liking anything I buy her. She claims I don't listen to her, that even her room mate at college knows what she'd like better than I do. Last Christmas, I got her jam, a Bible with anime illustrations, and a wind chime. She didn't like any of it. But I had reasons! I got her jam because I knew how much she liked toast, she was always telling me how much she liked toast, so what goes better with toast than jam. And it was even special fancy jam. I knew she liked anime, and she didn't have a Bible, and it was a little corny but I thought maybe she'd like a combination of the two. And I thought the wind chime matched the decorations in her bedroom. I remember her telling me she disliked wind chimes, but a single tiny bell at the end hardly qualifies is as a "chime", it's more like a mobile than anything (especially if its indoors, hence no wind).
But the gift flopped hard anyway. I think she should feel lucky to get anything, I mean, it's pretty rude to complain about something somebody buys you no matter how close you are. Especially a nice big full-color book that obviously wasn't from the bargain bin. It sure is a lot nicer than what, say, her brother bought her, which was nothing. Oh well, I guess from now on I should just go with more obvious things, things I know she'll like. But it's so boring! I hate boring things.
But of course later in the evening we kissed and made up (and out) (ha ha j/k). She said at least the book will be a good distraction for me when she's busy with something and can't lavish me with the attention I so readily deserve.
She left this morning, and I look forward to seeing her again, hopefully around Valentine's Day.
If you're wondering what Napenthi is, it's the name of my new band. Well, sort of. I met with Khai the guitarist today to try and get something a little bit organized. We ironed out what songs we are going to prepare for a possible live performance on the first in two weeks (death doom destruction). He talks like he's really serious about this and knows how to play. I have my hopes, and my doubts, but there's no reason to give up before you start. Today I'm going to prepare practice tracks for him, just bass drums and chords, so when we meet this weekend he'll have his parts down slightly so we can see if we actually have something or not. I'm not going to make any judgments on the potential of this project until we've both had time to practice. Napenthi is a botched spelling of the word Nepenthe, which is a mythological drug of forgetfulness. I may need some Nepenthe after this week.
This week being school show auditions and all. I've been trying to let my voice rest yesterday and today, since it was pretty well tired after singing all day Thursday and Friday. Tomorrow is a half day, we get out at like noon (for the end of the semester), and then we'll have to come back for auditions at three. During that time I'm going to practice the song and make sure I can still sing it. It is very high, mind you. I'm a little anxious to have it over with. With any luck I won't get a good part and I won't have to do the show, or I'll get the lead. One or the other would be ideal. I kind of hope the directors don't read this blog.
That's all for now. I think I'm going to go watch the snow.
_Dr. M
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I'm Going Away
Only temporarily, of course. Districts starts tomorrow, so I won't be able to post again until Saturday. It doesn't feel much like I'm leaving. I'm not really very excited about Districts. I've been in kind of a funk lately, I don't know why. My computer is here, I should be happy as a school boy. Instead my feelings range from slightly dispassionate to a little depressed. Well it's not that bad. Maybe it's those post-holiday blues.
I've gotten into another one of these musical dry spells, and sometimes it takes something big to break out of them. You know what's funny is last year around this time I was talking about the exact same thing. From Christmas break to the middle of January it seems I can't ever get anything down on tape. Last year I broke out of it by recording one of the better things I had recorded in a while. This year I hope to continue in that same tradition. I have to force myself to record even when I don't feel like it, I mean hell, I'm going to be doing this for a living. This is going to be my job. I don't want it to be something fun I do on the side when the mood strikes me, I want it to be the thing I slave over every single day no matter what.
I know when I start making songs again that I want to experiment a lot more with sampling. I want to try and create a method of using obscure enough and short enough samples that I'll never come under fire for copyright infringement, even if I hit it big. Among other things, I plan on using sound effects from movies. All of the sounds you hear in movies, every foot step, every door closing, was recorded in a studio and slaved over until it sounded perfect, so why not use that in my recording. There are some pretty expansive percussive options there.
Again, not all that excited about Districts tomorrow. I enjoy rehearsing and performing new music though, that's why I do these festivals, so doing that again with a semi-serious group of fellow singers will be nice. However, I should probably stop writing and start packing since it's already pretty late.
I'm not really depressed. I think I'm just tired. I need to break out of this rut.
_Dr. M
I've gotten into another one of these musical dry spells, and sometimes it takes something big to break out of them. You know what's funny is last year around this time I was talking about the exact same thing. From Christmas break to the middle of January it seems I can't ever get anything down on tape. Last year I broke out of it by recording one of the better things I had recorded in a while. This year I hope to continue in that same tradition. I have to force myself to record even when I don't feel like it, I mean hell, I'm going to be doing this for a living. This is going to be my job. I don't want it to be something fun I do on the side when the mood strikes me, I want it to be the thing I slave over every single day no matter what.
I know when I start making songs again that I want to experiment a lot more with sampling. I want to try and create a method of using obscure enough and short enough samples that I'll never come under fire for copyright infringement, even if I hit it big. Among other things, I plan on using sound effects from movies. All of the sounds you hear in movies, every foot step, every door closing, was recorded in a studio and slaved over until it sounded perfect, so why not use that in my recording. There are some pretty expansive percussive options there.
Again, not all that excited about Districts tomorrow. I enjoy rehearsing and performing new music though, that's why I do these festivals, so doing that again with a semi-serious group of fellow singers will be nice. However, I should probably stop writing and start packing since it's already pretty late.
I'm not really depressed. I think I'm just tired. I need to break out of this rut.
_Dr. M
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A Slight Change of Heart
Today was the sign-ups for auditions for the school show. I went in thinking I was going to audition, but probably not get a good part, and if that was the case I wasn't going to be in it. But I've had a change of attitude after today's meeting. We discussed the audition procedures (they're next week), which I already knew, and we went over the songs we'd have to choose from to sing. I knew I didn't have a shot at Joseph, with my range it was out of the question. At least, everyone generally assumed it was and I was fine with that, there was at least one other guy who could sing it.
But as it turns out, all of the songs the guys have to pick from (and there are plenty of them) are too high. They all go up to high Es or Fs, I can't really do any of them comfortably. But oddly enough, the song that's easiest for me is one of Joseph's, Close Every Door. The few high Fs it has are placed within the phrase such that you could fudge them without sounding too bad. Don't get me wrong... you do sing them... but they're not in a place where you hold them out a really long time and get a lot of applause (like it is in some of the other songs). I can sing this song and sound pretty good.
Along with that, my experience from last year taught me what the directors are looking for when casting. I was trying to be subtle when I auditioned, understating lines and giving small gestures, but they don't want subtlety, they want you to put your heart and soul into it and ham it up. I get the feeling this isn't just what they want -it's simply how you act on stage. I don't know why it's taken me this long to learn that. Anyway, let's be honest, I can act circles around almost every person auditioning. If I go in there, sing my heart out, and emote as well as I can, who knows, I may actually have a shot at the lead.
I do this every year, I put silly ideas in my head about how I might be just what they're looking for and all of my short-comings will be overlooked. Every year I end up disappointed, and feel very stupid for thinking I had any chance at all. Well, last year I thought I was a shoe-in, I was so sure either me or one or two other people would get it, and I was very severely mistaken. Of course I still think I should have gotten it, I would have done a much better job than who they picked, but looking back I'm sure my audition really wasn't very good, or at all the best I could have done. In any case, I'm sure I'll look back on this post in two weeks and feel very stupid for thinking I had a chance.
But I think I have a chance. There are only so many other people who could sing the part at all (not many guys are auditioning), and I think I have a leg up on each of them. Once again I think (pretty damn sure) I'm the best actor of them, and with any luck that will come through in my audition. The one who could sing it best is too short and tiny to ever play a lead, which is really too bad since he could do a good job, I think. The boy who played the lead tenor role last year has lost a little of his upper range, and is very stiff on stage. I think he's my best competition, but it all comes down to singing. If I hit those high Fs convincingly, I think I have it in the bag. Then there's the kid who's played the funny roles the last two years, who really wants (and probably thinks he's going to get) it. I like him, he's a really nice guy, a fairly okay singer and a pretty good actor. And it's obvious the directors like him. But he doesn't sing like I can, and he has about the same range I do, he can't really belt high notes any better than I can. He has no real advantage over me, best I can tell.
I know I probably sound pretty full of myself. Don't get me wrong, I am. But don't get to thinking I'm all that gifted a thespian either. Reading High School provides very little competition when it comes to guys, you don't have to be good to get far. Anybody who's reading this is probably laughing, knowing a) the last thing I've demonstrated in the last three years is any kind of range I can actually use and b) they've never given me anything even slightly resembling a lead, and they're not good at breaking traditions like that. But judging purely from my own assessment of how I sounded singing the song today, I honestly think I have a shot.
Last year has been something very much on my mind ever since it happened. I hated the kid who played the lead last year. But now, being able to distance myself a little bit from it, I think a lot of my intense, passionate rage was simply due to me not getting the part, when I thought I could have done a really good job, and on top of it someone I felt was so much worse than me got it, not even somebody I respected. Looking back on auditions, it's not so unreal to me why they picked him. He wasn't a great singer, or even a good singer. But he really put himself out there when he read for the part. I thought it was over the top and completely contrary to the character, but my interpretation of the part obviously differed from the directors', who had a lot more experience for the show. And he could sing the high note. And he matched the height of the leading lady. Plus his accent, though decidedly Hispanic and not at all French (in theater it makes no difference). All of those things put together meant he was simply the best for the part. I was okay at the singing, another kid was better at acting, but this kid, though pretty lousy at both, was simply the best all-around (in the eyes of the directors).
Since there will be no reading for the part since the play is completely sung, the ability to emote through singing will be essential. That can be hard to do. Well anyway if there's one thing I've really learned it is to never rule anybody out, and no matter what happens it should be pretty interesting.
I have the rest of tonight to finish up any left-over schoolwork for the quarter and to practice more for districts, which I leave for the day after tomorrow. I leave in the morning with Mr. Smith and Patrick (the tenor who made it), we get there, we rehearse (ug), we audition that afternoon (double ug), we rehearse some more, I meet the people whose house I'll be sleeping in (hope they have a hot daughter who's never had a boy in the house before, who has been living a sheltered life and secretly aching for some sexual awakening), we rehearse some more the next day, we perform in the evening, I go back to their house (hopefully they have twins)(and a hot tub), perform again the following day, then go home (that's Saturday if you haven't been following along). Rachel will be home that weekend for her birthday, and I'll get to see her which will be great.
Tomorrow is a late start for the seniors due to everybody but seniors taking 4-sight testing. I had my own incidental late start this morning, oops. Stupid sleep, why are you so much fun.
Let's see, is that everything? I broke the news to Nikmis that I won't be doing his remix, which means he apparently doesn't read this blog (for shame, for shame). Aaand... I think that's it. Oh yeah, and my guitarist never messaged me back about meeting today, which is weird. Hopefully he messages me back about meeting tomorrow or we'll have to delay the revolution another week.
Oh, and today I was introduced to clips on Youtube from a hilarious tv show featuring a drama teacher from Australia.
Okay, that's it. Good bye.
_Dr. M
But as it turns out, all of the songs the guys have to pick from (and there are plenty of them) are too high. They all go up to high Es or Fs, I can't really do any of them comfortably. But oddly enough, the song that's easiest for me is one of Joseph's, Close Every Door. The few high Fs it has are placed within the phrase such that you could fudge them without sounding too bad. Don't get me wrong... you do sing them... but they're not in a place where you hold them out a really long time and get a lot of applause (like it is in some of the other songs). I can sing this song and sound pretty good.
Along with that, my experience from last year taught me what the directors are looking for when casting. I was trying to be subtle when I auditioned, understating lines and giving small gestures, but they don't want subtlety, they want you to put your heart and soul into it and ham it up. I get the feeling this isn't just what they want -it's simply how you act on stage. I don't know why it's taken me this long to learn that. Anyway, let's be honest, I can act circles around almost every person auditioning. If I go in there, sing my heart out, and emote as well as I can, who knows, I may actually have a shot at the lead.
I do this every year, I put silly ideas in my head about how I might be just what they're looking for and all of my short-comings will be overlooked. Every year I end up disappointed, and feel very stupid for thinking I had any chance at all. Well, last year I thought I was a shoe-in, I was so sure either me or one or two other people would get it, and I was very severely mistaken. Of course I still think I should have gotten it, I would have done a much better job than who they picked, but looking back I'm sure my audition really wasn't very good, or at all the best I could have done. In any case, I'm sure I'll look back on this post in two weeks and feel very stupid for thinking I had a chance.
But I think I have a chance. There are only so many other people who could sing the part at all (not many guys are auditioning), and I think I have a leg up on each of them. Once again I think (pretty damn sure) I'm the best actor of them, and with any luck that will come through in my audition. The one who could sing it best is too short and tiny to ever play a lead, which is really too bad since he could do a good job, I think. The boy who played the lead tenor role last year has lost a little of his upper range, and is very stiff on stage. I think he's my best competition, but it all comes down to singing. If I hit those high Fs convincingly, I think I have it in the bag. Then there's the kid who's played the funny roles the last two years, who really wants (and probably thinks he's going to get) it. I like him, he's a really nice guy, a fairly okay singer and a pretty good actor. And it's obvious the directors like him. But he doesn't sing like I can, and he has about the same range I do, he can't really belt high notes any better than I can. He has no real advantage over me, best I can tell.
I know I probably sound pretty full of myself. Don't get me wrong, I am. But don't get to thinking I'm all that gifted a thespian either. Reading High School provides very little competition when it comes to guys, you don't have to be good to get far. Anybody who's reading this is probably laughing, knowing a) the last thing I've demonstrated in the last three years is any kind of range I can actually use and b) they've never given me anything even slightly resembling a lead, and they're not good at breaking traditions like that. But judging purely from my own assessment of how I sounded singing the song today, I honestly think I have a shot.
Last year has been something very much on my mind ever since it happened. I hated the kid who played the lead last year. But now, being able to distance myself a little bit from it, I think a lot of my intense, passionate rage was simply due to me not getting the part, when I thought I could have done a really good job, and on top of it someone I felt was so much worse than me got it, not even somebody I respected. Looking back on auditions, it's not so unreal to me why they picked him. He wasn't a great singer, or even a good singer. But he really put himself out there when he read for the part. I thought it was over the top and completely contrary to the character, but my interpretation of the part obviously differed from the directors', who had a lot more experience for the show. And he could sing the high note. And he matched the height of the leading lady. Plus his accent, though decidedly Hispanic and not at all French (in theater it makes no difference). All of those things put together meant he was simply the best for the part. I was okay at the singing, another kid was better at acting, but this kid, though pretty lousy at both, was simply the best all-around (in the eyes of the directors).
Since there will be no reading for the part since the play is completely sung, the ability to emote through singing will be essential. That can be hard to do. Well anyway if there's one thing I've really learned it is to never rule anybody out, and no matter what happens it should be pretty interesting.
I have the rest of tonight to finish up any left-over schoolwork for the quarter and to practice more for districts, which I leave for the day after tomorrow. I leave in the morning with Mr. Smith and Patrick (the tenor who made it), we get there, we rehearse (ug), we audition that afternoon (double ug), we rehearse some more, I meet the people whose house I'll be sleeping in (hope they have a hot daughter who's never had a boy in the house before, who has been living a sheltered life and secretly aching for some sexual awakening), we rehearse some more the next day, we perform in the evening, I go back to their house (hopefully they have twins)(and a hot tub), perform again the following day, then go home (that's Saturday if you haven't been following along). Rachel will be home that weekend for her birthday, and I'll get to see her which will be great.
Tomorrow is a late start for the seniors due to everybody but seniors taking 4-sight testing. I had my own incidental late start this morning, oops. Stupid sleep, why are you so much fun.
Let's see, is that everything? I broke the news to Nikmis that I won't be doing his remix, which means he apparently doesn't read this blog (for shame, for shame). Aaand... I think that's it. Oh yeah, and my guitarist never messaged me back about meeting today, which is weird. Hopefully he messages me back about meeting tomorrow or we'll have to delay the revolution another week.
Oh, and today I was introduced to clips on Youtube from a hilarious tv show featuring a drama teacher from Australia.
Okay, that's it. Good bye.
_Dr. M
Sunday, January 11, 2009
It Is Complete (kind of)
You're now seeing me post for the first time from my new computer, in my room. It's so exciting! I have most of the programs I want all installed and everything, and some of my music is on it. Here's hoping we don't run into another disaster that will have us reinstalling the operating system, again. It seems to be working okay, with one of two minor gaffs here or there.
Rachel was supposed to leave yesterday, but the snow and inclement weather made her wait until today. Yesterday I saw the Blue Man Group at the Sovereign Center with my brother Dan, the tickets were birthday gifts. I have wanted to see them since I was very little, and so I was pretty psyched. I enjoyed it, it had a definite "rock concert" feel to it, they had a band that played with them and everything. The spectacle of it was great, the lights, how perfectly timed it all was, that in and of itself made it worth going. It was very humorous, and the music was okay. I loved the parts where the Blue Men were drumming by themselves on their weird instruments, then when the band came in it was kind of... well, a little generic. They had a vocalist and everything, but the songs weren't anything special. I would have preferred it to be more just the blue men, and props and percussion and stuff. I think I would like the stage show more, which apparently is very different from their touring show. I think they added the more traditional instruments to make it more accessible and sell more tickets. Maybe I'll get to see the non-touring version in New York sometime.
I know I didn't really want to get into politics in this blog, I mean, who wants to hear my dumb uninformed opinions anyway, but I have been thinking about it a bit lately. I think I'm an anarchist. I know that's a pretty extreme thing to say, and I don't plan on blowing up any buses or anything, but I'm starting to feel a little bit like maybe people actually would be capable of governing themselves, if they were allowed. Maybe all of this governing administered by the rich ruling class isn't as necessary as we all seem to think it is. I've been reading about it a little bit on good ol' wikipedia, and I think I'd classify myself as an "anarcho-capatilist", one whose views are "based on a belief in the freedom to own private property, a rejection of any form of governmental authority or intervention, and the upholding of the competitive free market as the main mechanism for social interaction." I don't know, it makes sense to me. My main point is in simplifying life and society, not forcing constraints or laws on anybody and allowing them to think for themselves. I guess this view is classified as "extreme libertarianism" but I actually think of it more like "extreme conservatism", where everything, utilities, public services like police and hospitals, are all completely privately owned and allowed to trade freely with no constraints by any outside force. My particular strain of anarchy isn't against all order or organization of any kind, which seems to be the stereotypical anarchist view, just against compulsory ones.
I'll be mulling that over for a while, in the meantime I have a new computer with which to make amazing music. If I had any immediate inspirations for doing so I wouldn't be here writing this blog, I'd be making music. The fact is I'm not sure where my sound is going to go once I start up again. I know I need practice with Logic before undertaking any serious endeavors. I also know when I do start again I'd like to be working on an album. Making Pogo, the short psychotic album I made over the summer, was a lot of fun, because I was thinking about more than one song at a time. I got to think about things a little more thematically, about how it would all fit together and flow. That was with a stripped-back album which used the exact same sounds in every song. A fully-realized electronic album with a lot of variety and instrumentation will hopefully be the same experience except more so, which I'm very excited about.
I'm starting to feel a little excited about my music again, something I haven't really felt since October. Inspiration comes and goes, I think it's coming back.
Anyways, Rachel left today. I met an old friend for lunch, a rare thing for me. I knew her from a summer theater camp we both used to go to. Originally it was going to be me her and someone else, but the third person never showed. Have you ever noticed how sometimes, different people make us a completely different person when we're around them? They bring out different aspects of our personality. This girl, whose name also happens to be Rachel (it's a virus), really brings out my intellectual side. Something of which I wish I had a little more to offer, I don't exactly read very much, or retain information like some people do. My Rachel really brings out all sides of my personality (good and bad), one of the reasons I love her.
I got to accompany my Rachel back to college, which was nice. It's weird, whenever I drive to Philly and see that skyline (something I've done quite a bit lately, between trips to UArts and to UPenn), it always feels like I'm coming home. It feels so familiar, and not really welcoming, but still like home. I don't know what it is, but it feels more like home than Reading does. I think it's my subconscious realizing that that's where I'm going to college, and it's a reflection of my desperation to get there and get out of here. I am pretty desperate to leave home. Which is weird, I mean by some standards my childhood has been positively ideal, and I love my family dearly. I'm just so ready to get out there on my own. At least I think I am. We'll see if that's actually the case.
I miss Rachel already, but not too bad since she'll be home next weekend for her birthday. =D Then I'll probably go up to see her on or around Valentine's Day.
Here's a list of things I should be doing at this very moment but am not:
1. Looking for my acceptance letter from UArts and with it the two letters we have to mail in
2. The history project that will be three days late
3. Preparing District music
4. Making sheet music for my guitarist
5. A remix for a musician that I said I would do but am having trouble doing it
That last one I feel especially bad about. I've wanted to do a remix for this guy for ages, but now that I have the opportunity sitting in front of me, I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do. Seriously, zero real ideas. To undertake a heavy creative project like this I need time, I need to not be worrying about my computer crashing and the various things I want to do with it, I need to not be in the midst of learning a new program and new music for these stupid chorus festivals. I could half-ass something in GB or I could just tell him it's not a good time. Maybe he'd prefer the former. Well in any case he's probably reading this (he's like that) so hopefully he'll tell me what I should do. Hi Nikmis!
I've rambled on for long enough I think. Not looking forward to school tomorrow, am looking forward to Districts (this week Wednesday-Saturday) being over with.
Bu-bye.
_Dr. M
Rachel was supposed to leave yesterday, but the snow and inclement weather made her wait until today. Yesterday I saw the Blue Man Group at the Sovereign Center with my brother Dan, the tickets were birthday gifts. I have wanted to see them since I was very little, and so I was pretty psyched. I enjoyed it, it had a definite "rock concert" feel to it, they had a band that played with them and everything. The spectacle of it was great, the lights, how perfectly timed it all was, that in and of itself made it worth going. It was very humorous, and the music was okay. I loved the parts where the Blue Men were drumming by themselves on their weird instruments, then when the band came in it was kind of... well, a little generic. They had a vocalist and everything, but the songs weren't anything special. I would have preferred it to be more just the blue men, and props and percussion and stuff. I think I would like the stage show more, which apparently is very different from their touring show. I think they added the more traditional instruments to make it more accessible and sell more tickets. Maybe I'll get to see the non-touring version in New York sometime.
I know I didn't really want to get into politics in this blog, I mean, who wants to hear my dumb uninformed opinions anyway, but I have been thinking about it a bit lately. I think I'm an anarchist. I know that's a pretty extreme thing to say, and I don't plan on blowing up any buses or anything, but I'm starting to feel a little bit like maybe people actually would be capable of governing themselves, if they were allowed. Maybe all of this governing administered by the rich ruling class isn't as necessary as we all seem to think it is. I've been reading about it a little bit on good ol' wikipedia, and I think I'd classify myself as an "anarcho-capatilist", one whose views are "based on a belief in the freedom to own private property, a rejection of any form of governmental authority or intervention, and the upholding of the competitive free market as the main mechanism for social interaction." I don't know, it makes sense to me. My main point is in simplifying life and society, not forcing constraints or laws on anybody and allowing them to think for themselves. I guess this view is classified as "extreme libertarianism" but I actually think of it more like "extreme conservatism", where everything, utilities, public services like police and hospitals, are all completely privately owned and allowed to trade freely with no constraints by any outside force. My particular strain of anarchy isn't against all order or organization of any kind, which seems to be the stereotypical anarchist view, just against compulsory ones.
I'll be mulling that over for a while, in the meantime I have a new computer with which to make amazing music. If I had any immediate inspirations for doing so I wouldn't be here writing this blog, I'd be making music. The fact is I'm not sure where my sound is going to go once I start up again. I know I need practice with Logic before undertaking any serious endeavors. I also know when I do start again I'd like to be working on an album. Making Pogo, the short psychotic album I made over the summer, was a lot of fun, because I was thinking about more than one song at a time. I got to think about things a little more thematically, about how it would all fit together and flow. That was with a stripped-back album which used the exact same sounds in every song. A fully-realized electronic album with a lot of variety and instrumentation will hopefully be the same experience except more so, which I'm very excited about.
I'm starting to feel a little excited about my music again, something I haven't really felt since October. Inspiration comes and goes, I think it's coming back.
Anyways, Rachel left today. I met an old friend for lunch, a rare thing for me. I knew her from a summer theater camp we both used to go to. Originally it was going to be me her and someone else, but the third person never showed. Have you ever noticed how sometimes, different people make us a completely different person when we're around them? They bring out different aspects of our personality. This girl, whose name also happens to be Rachel (it's a virus), really brings out my intellectual side. Something of which I wish I had a little more to offer, I don't exactly read very much, or retain information like some people do. My Rachel really brings out all sides of my personality (good and bad), one of the reasons I love her.
I got to accompany my Rachel back to college, which was nice. It's weird, whenever I drive to Philly and see that skyline (something I've done quite a bit lately, between trips to UArts and to UPenn), it always feels like I'm coming home. It feels so familiar, and not really welcoming, but still like home. I don't know what it is, but it feels more like home than Reading does. I think it's my subconscious realizing that that's where I'm going to college, and it's a reflection of my desperation to get there and get out of here. I am pretty desperate to leave home. Which is weird, I mean by some standards my childhood has been positively ideal, and I love my family dearly. I'm just so ready to get out there on my own. At least I think I am. We'll see if that's actually the case.
I miss Rachel already, but not too bad since she'll be home next weekend for her birthday. =D Then I'll probably go up to see her on or around Valentine's Day.
Here's a list of things I should be doing at this very moment but am not:
1. Looking for my acceptance letter from UArts and with it the two letters we have to mail in
2. The history project that will be three days late
3. Preparing District music
4. Making sheet music for my guitarist
5. A remix for a musician that I said I would do but am having trouble doing it
That last one I feel especially bad about. I've wanted to do a remix for this guy for ages, but now that I have the opportunity sitting in front of me, I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do. Seriously, zero real ideas. To undertake a heavy creative project like this I need time, I need to not be worrying about my computer crashing and the various things I want to do with it, I need to not be in the midst of learning a new program and new music for these stupid chorus festivals. I could half-ass something in GB or I could just tell him it's not a good time. Maybe he'd prefer the former. Well in any case he's probably reading this (he's like that) so hopefully he'll tell me what I should do. Hi Nikmis!
I've rambled on for long enough I think. Not looking forward to school tomorrow, am looking forward to Districts (this week Wednesday-Saturday) being over with.
Bu-bye.
_Dr. M
Friday, January 9, 2009
irc (in response to comments) 1/8/08
I think I'll do this if there are comments on the previous post I'd like to respond to. Don't know if that's proper "form" or not, but hey, it's my blog.
Hi Rosebud. Thanks for reading my blog! I love reading yours, it's very amusing. Anyway, I think you commented before I finished writing the post (sometimes I write them in installments), I hope you go back to read the rest of it.
For Poetry Out Loud you recite a memorized poem, complete with your interpretation of it. You don't want to be over-the-top dramatic with it, but you are supposed to read with proper inflection and emotion, as if you are the speaker. It's like any poetry slam at a coffee house or something, except it's a competition (go here http://poetryoutloud.org/poems/video_bestpractices.html if you'd like some examples). The poem Self-Employed isn't talking about someone actually being fired, of course, so I don't think that kind of experience would be very applicable. It's simply a funny poem about something I think we've all experienced, the wish that you could fire yourself from the job of being you, and hire someone else for a while.
Hi Rosebud. Thanks for reading my blog! I love reading yours, it's very amusing. Anyway, I think you commented before I finished writing the post (sometimes I write them in installments), I hope you go back to read the rest of it.
For Poetry Out Loud you recite a memorized poem, complete with your interpretation of it. You don't want to be over-the-top dramatic with it, but you are supposed to read with proper inflection and emotion, as if you are the speaker. It's like any poetry slam at a coffee house or something, except it's a competition (go here http://poetryoutloud.org/poems/video_bestpractices.html if you'd like some examples). The poem Self-Employed isn't talking about someone actually being fired, of course, so I don't think that kind of experience would be very applicable. It's simply a funny poem about something I think we've all experienced, the wish that you could fire yourself from the job of being you, and hire someone else for a while.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Happy Things and Depressing Things
Today I had a bad runny nose. I don't know why such a simple problem can make you feel like digging yourself a grave and lying down for a little eternal slumber, but it does.
I talked at length about my poems for Poetry Out Loud today with my ninth grade English teacher who is a really god coach for these kinds of things. She had some very valuable insights, things to work on, etc. Hopefully I'm in line to win the school competition. That's my only wish. Regional, states, yeah I'd like to win them if I could, but all I really want to do is move beyond the school competition.
I decided to change my third poem. My third poem only becomes important if and when I win at the school competition, which only requires two poems, it's not until regional you have to have three. Nonetheless I have been obsessing about it nonstop, and I've settled on Self Employed, by David Ignatow. It's probably one of my favorite poems ever, the problem is it's very short and rather odd. But I really connect with it, and my teacher agreed that I communicate it well. It came down to either that or Why I Am Not a Painter. Painter was the "safer" choice, longer, more familiar, maybe a little more accessible. But Self Employed won out, I mean please, that poem is me.
Self-Employed
By David Ignatow
For Harvey Shapiro
I stand and listen, head bowed,
to my inner complaint.
Persons passing by think
I am searching for a lost coin.
You’re fired, I yell inside
after an especially bad episode.
I’m letting you go without notice
or terminal pay. You just lost
another chance to make good.
But then I watch myself standing at the exit,
depressed and about to leave,
and wave myself back in wearily,
for who else could I get in my place
to do the job in dark, airless conditions?
I hope I win just so I get to perform this poem for an audience. In other news, the more I think about and recite When You Are Old, the more I fall in love with it. It's such a beautiful, striking poem. Unrequited love. Never has there been a sadder theme. Also, when I first read Dressing My Daughters, I thought maybe it was about a man whose wife had died. When I read it again I decided it didn't have to be and I was taking too much from it. But when I recited it this afternoon, my teacher assumed the same thing without questioning it, and it's all because of that one line, "How would she connect these bony valves and stubborn eyelets?" There are many reasons the father might be forced to play this role, the mother might be running an errand, or cooking breakfast. But something about it just gives the impression that he's doing this because she is no longer there, he now has to play both parts of a mother and a father. It adds another layer to the poem which really I don't think will really make a difference in how I recite it (maybe make certain lines a little sadder), but it's good to know other people's impressions.
Knight Life is the school TV studio program which I've been in since tenth grade, we put on the morning news show during homeroom, a live Monday evening show, and cover other school events like concerts and sports games. At certain times the club can seem a little more like a cult, we have a green room (like every tv studio, it's the place people sit and chill before the show) where we eat lunch and have study hall, and go whenever we're skipping class. This year the cult level has been kept to a minimum, I don't know why, I think the people in it just aren't as cool. Anyway, funny things happen sometimes, during shows, during study hall, there are stories, it's fun. Where am I going with this, you ask?
There have been a lot of staff changes in the program. Mr. Fox is the very old teacher who runs the whole studio, he's great. Then there's his assistant, who had an accident at the beginning of the school year (VCR fell on her head, got to watch that) and suffered a concussion and who's still not back yet. Then there is another employee of the audio/video department, a man who basically sits in his office all day waiting for somebody to need a TV in their room or a new projector, or can't figure out how to plug something in. This man was much beloved by everybody in KL (old, senile, and the local Salvation Army for hall passes and I.D. lanyards), but lately he also had some sort of medical condition and decided to call it quits. He's been replaced by this guy, who I got to talk to today for the first time. My talk with him is why I'm now writing about Knight Life in my blog.
I was the only one in the green room ninth period, and I was there because of the poetry practice after school (otherwise I would have left after eighth). This guy happened to be around as well, and since I was there, he started regaling me with stories of when he was in Reading High School, as a student in Knight Life. This guy does not seem very intelligent. He's a really young guy, probably graduated high school in like 2003. He talked with a kind of urban drawl and wore big baggy jeans (despite being a professional full-time employee at a high school). I'm sure if he went to college he dropped out, or just barely graduated. He's now stuck with a loser dead-end job that he'll probably have for the rest of his life, if he doesn't do anything to lose it.
I say we "talked", but I didn't really say much. He told me about the time he hit another kid in the crotch with a tennis ball while they were taping a basketball game. He pointed out which of the ratty old pieces of furniture in the green room had been there when he was a student, and how many students are supposed to have had sex on them. The more he talked, the sadder I got. Here was this man, with presumably no other talents to speak of, nothing notable about him whatsoever, who got four years, just four years, of living in a group where he was excepted, where he was at least semi-important. Four years of fond, random, stupid memories of antics with other students that dozens or hundreds of kids have had before him, and dozens or hundreds more will have after him. But that's all he gets. That's all he has. For the rest of his life, he will have that brief bright spot to look back on as he grinds away at a pointless job in a concrete, windowless "office" (where he does no paperwork and has no computer). His only pastime will be seeing how bad the auditorium gets before they finally fix it up, keeping track of teachers leaving and coming and dieing, and telling students like me about how much fun he had in Knight Life.
Maybe this is only temporary for him and I don't know it. Maybe he's an amazing painter and is only doing this to support his career as an artist. I really, strongly doubt it. Anyway, this isn't the only adult I know who can't seem to grow up, to get past high school. Many people return and keep returning despite having graduated years ago. They find some reason to come back, like helping out with band or school show or something. But they're not just helping, these activities are all they have. These are mainly people with no real futures to speak of, but man, high school sure was a blast.
I find this class of people very depressing. I know I'd rather step on a land mine than step foot in my high school again after I graduate, so I won't be one of them, but I still think of these people sometimes. Hopefully I'm wrong and some of them do go on to do something with their lives.
This afternoon I was with Rachel, which was great. She's leaving on Saturday, I'm sad but only a little. I have a lot to look forward to.
I talked school show over with my mother. She won't be upset if I decide not to do it, I have so much else I want to do this semester music-wise and she understands that. She wonders if I should try out at all, but the thing is I should do it if they really need me for a certain part. I just don't think they do. I'm going to see who all is trying out at the audition sign-ups in two weeks. That will make a difference.
Logic came today. =D Get ready for music that will blast your socks off so hard you won't... be able to find them... again. =(
_Dr. M
I talked at length about my poems for Poetry Out Loud today with my ninth grade English teacher who is a really god coach for these kinds of things. She had some very valuable insights, things to work on, etc. Hopefully I'm in line to win the school competition. That's my only wish. Regional, states, yeah I'd like to win them if I could, but all I really want to do is move beyond the school competition.
I decided to change my third poem. My third poem only becomes important if and when I win at the school competition, which only requires two poems, it's not until regional you have to have three. Nonetheless I have been obsessing about it nonstop, and I've settled on Self Employed, by David Ignatow. It's probably one of my favorite poems ever, the problem is it's very short and rather odd. But I really connect with it, and my teacher agreed that I communicate it well. It came down to either that or Why I Am Not a Painter. Painter was the "safer" choice, longer, more familiar, maybe a little more accessible. But Self Employed won out, I mean please, that poem is me.
Self-Employed
By David Ignatow
For Harvey Shapiro
I stand and listen, head bowed,
to my inner complaint.
Persons passing by think
I am searching for a lost coin.
You’re fired, I yell inside
after an especially bad episode.
I’m letting you go without notice
or terminal pay. You just lost
another chance to make good.
But then I watch myself standing at the exit,
depressed and about to leave,
and wave myself back in wearily,
for who else could I get in my place
to do the job in dark, airless conditions?
I hope I win just so I get to perform this poem for an audience. In other news, the more I think about and recite When You Are Old, the more I fall in love with it. It's such a beautiful, striking poem. Unrequited love. Never has there been a sadder theme. Also, when I first read Dressing My Daughters, I thought maybe it was about a man whose wife had died. When I read it again I decided it didn't have to be and I was taking too much from it. But when I recited it this afternoon, my teacher assumed the same thing without questioning it, and it's all because of that one line, "How would she connect these bony valves and stubborn eyelets?" There are many reasons the father might be forced to play this role, the mother might be running an errand, or cooking breakfast. But something about it just gives the impression that he's doing this because she is no longer there, he now has to play both parts of a mother and a father. It adds another layer to the poem which really I don't think will really make a difference in how I recite it (maybe make certain lines a little sadder), but it's good to know other people's impressions.
Knight Life is the school TV studio program which I've been in since tenth grade, we put on the morning news show during homeroom, a live Monday evening show, and cover other school events like concerts and sports games. At certain times the club can seem a little more like a cult, we have a green room (like every tv studio, it's the place people sit and chill before the show) where we eat lunch and have study hall, and go whenever we're skipping class. This year the cult level has been kept to a minimum, I don't know why, I think the people in it just aren't as cool. Anyway, funny things happen sometimes, during shows, during study hall, there are stories, it's fun. Where am I going with this, you ask?
There have been a lot of staff changes in the program. Mr. Fox is the very old teacher who runs the whole studio, he's great. Then there's his assistant, who had an accident at the beginning of the school year (VCR fell on her head, got to watch that) and suffered a concussion and who's still not back yet. Then there is another employee of the audio/video department, a man who basically sits in his office all day waiting for somebody to need a TV in their room or a new projector, or can't figure out how to plug something in. This man was much beloved by everybody in KL (old, senile, and the local Salvation Army for hall passes and I.D. lanyards), but lately he also had some sort of medical condition and decided to call it quits. He's been replaced by this guy, who I got to talk to today for the first time. My talk with him is why I'm now writing about Knight Life in my blog.
I was the only one in the green room ninth period, and I was there because of the poetry practice after school (otherwise I would have left after eighth). This guy happened to be around as well, and since I was there, he started regaling me with stories of when he was in Reading High School, as a student in Knight Life. This guy does not seem very intelligent. He's a really young guy, probably graduated high school in like 2003. He talked with a kind of urban drawl and wore big baggy jeans (despite being a professional full-time employee at a high school). I'm sure if he went to college he dropped out, or just barely graduated. He's now stuck with a loser dead-end job that he'll probably have for the rest of his life, if he doesn't do anything to lose it.
I say we "talked", but I didn't really say much. He told me about the time he hit another kid in the crotch with a tennis ball while they were taping a basketball game. He pointed out which of the ratty old pieces of furniture in the green room had been there when he was a student, and how many students are supposed to have had sex on them. The more he talked, the sadder I got. Here was this man, with presumably no other talents to speak of, nothing notable about him whatsoever, who got four years, just four years, of living in a group where he was excepted, where he was at least semi-important. Four years of fond, random, stupid memories of antics with other students that dozens or hundreds of kids have had before him, and dozens or hundreds more will have after him. But that's all he gets. That's all he has. For the rest of his life, he will have that brief bright spot to look back on as he grinds away at a pointless job in a concrete, windowless "office" (where he does no paperwork and has no computer). His only pastime will be seeing how bad the auditorium gets before they finally fix it up, keeping track of teachers leaving and coming and dieing, and telling students like me about how much fun he had in Knight Life.
Maybe this is only temporary for him and I don't know it. Maybe he's an amazing painter and is only doing this to support his career as an artist. I really, strongly doubt it. Anyway, this isn't the only adult I know who can't seem to grow up, to get past high school. Many people return and keep returning despite having graduated years ago. They find some reason to come back, like helping out with band or school show or something. But they're not just helping, these activities are all they have. These are mainly people with no real futures to speak of, but man, high school sure was a blast.
I find this class of people very depressing. I know I'd rather step on a land mine than step foot in my high school again after I graduate, so I won't be one of them, but I still think of these people sometimes. Hopefully I'm wrong and some of them do go on to do something with their lives.
This afternoon I was with Rachel, which was great. She's leaving on Saturday, I'm sad but only a little. I have a lot to look forward to.
I talked school show over with my mother. She won't be upset if I decide not to do it, I have so much else I want to do this semester music-wise and she understands that. She wonders if I should try out at all, but the thing is I should do it if they really need me for a certain part. I just don't think they do. I'm going to see who all is trying out at the audition sign-ups in two weeks. That will make a difference.
Logic came today. =D Get ready for music that will blast your socks off so hard you won't... be able to find them... again. =(
_Dr. M
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Poetry Out Loud, 09
School has started again, and so far I haven't had a problem waking up. Classes have been just as exciting as ever, but luckily this semester is ending in two weeks and then I won't have to wake up as early.
Poetry Out Loud is a nation-wide poetry recitation contest my school has participated in for the past three years. I really really enjoy it, it's really gotten me into the craft of reciting poetry. You start off competing in your class, then you go onto a school-wide competition, then a regional one, then state, then nationals. Someone from RHS has made it to states every year we've done it. The first year I didn't do too well, but last year I was second in the school-wide part. Practically ever since, I've been obsessively searching poems from the organization's long list of poems to pick from, trying to find just the right poem to suit me.
The competition is coming up soon, we've started practicing our poems in my English class and everything. I have two poems picked out for sure, Dressing My Daughters by Mark Jarmen and When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats. I'm still a little undecided about my third poem, but it will probably be Why I Am Not a Painter by Frank O'Hara.
The first is my strongest poem.
Dressing My Daughters
By Mark Jarman
One girl a full head taller
Than the other—into their Sunday dresses.
First, the slip, hardly a piece of fabric,
Softly stitched and printed with a bud.
I’m not their mother, and tangle, then untangle
The whole cloth—on backwards, have to grab it
Round their necks. But they know how to pull
Arms in, a reflex of being dressed,
And also, a child’s faith. The mass of stuff
That makes the Sunday frocks collapses
In my hands and finds its shape, only because
They understand the drape of it—
These skinny keys to intricate locks.
The buttons are a problem
For a surgeon. How would she connect
These bony valves and stubborn eyelets?
The filmy dress revolves in my blind fingers.
The slots work one by one.
And when they’re put together,
Not like puppets or those doll-saints
That bring tears to true believers,
But living children, somebody’s real daughters,
They do become more real.
They say, “Stop it!” and “Give it back!”
And “I don’t want to!” They’ll kiss
A doll’s hard features, whispering,
“I’m sorry.” I know just why my mother
Used to worry. Your clothes don’t keep
You close—it’s nakedness.
Clad in my boots and holster,
I would roam with my six-gun buddies.
We dealt fake death to one another,
Fell and rolled in filth and rose,
Grimy with wounds, then headed home.
But Sunday ... what was that tired explanation
Given for wearing clothes that
Scratched and shone and weighed like a slow hour?
That we should shine—in gratitude.
So, I give that explanation, undressing them,
And wait for the result.
After a day like Sunday, such a long one,
When they lie down, half-dead,
To be undone, they won’t help me.
They cry, “It’s not my fault.”
The next is a little more well-known.
When You Are Old
By William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
The next is funnier.
Why I Am Not a Painter
By Frank O'Hara
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
I have all of these memorized (the third is still a little shaky). So now I'm going to be practicing them obsessively and hoping against hope I make it to regionals (hopefully states), as this is my last year to do it.
That's all that's interesting at the moment. Rachel and I are enjoying this final week before she leaves again for college, and now I have to leave for work.
_Dr. M
Poetry Out Loud is a nation-wide poetry recitation contest my school has participated in for the past three years. I really really enjoy it, it's really gotten me into the craft of reciting poetry. You start off competing in your class, then you go onto a school-wide competition, then a regional one, then state, then nationals. Someone from RHS has made it to states every year we've done it. The first year I didn't do too well, but last year I was second in the school-wide part. Practically ever since, I've been obsessively searching poems from the organization's long list of poems to pick from, trying to find just the right poem to suit me.
The competition is coming up soon, we've started practicing our poems in my English class and everything. I have two poems picked out for sure, Dressing My Daughters by Mark Jarmen and When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats. I'm still a little undecided about my third poem, but it will probably be Why I Am Not a Painter by Frank O'Hara.
The first is my strongest poem.
Dressing My Daughters
By Mark Jarman
One girl a full head taller
Than the other—into their Sunday dresses.
First, the slip, hardly a piece of fabric,
Softly stitched and printed with a bud.
I’m not their mother, and tangle, then untangle
The whole cloth—on backwards, have to grab it
Round their necks. But they know how to pull
Arms in, a reflex of being dressed,
And also, a child’s faith. The mass of stuff
That makes the Sunday frocks collapses
In my hands and finds its shape, only because
They understand the drape of it—
These skinny keys to intricate locks.
The buttons are a problem
For a surgeon. How would she connect
These bony valves and stubborn eyelets?
The filmy dress revolves in my blind fingers.
The slots work one by one.
And when they’re put together,
Not like puppets or those doll-saints
That bring tears to true believers,
But living children, somebody’s real daughters,
They do become more real.
They say, “Stop it!” and “Give it back!”
And “I don’t want to!” They’ll kiss
A doll’s hard features, whispering,
“I’m sorry.” I know just why my mother
Used to worry. Your clothes don’t keep
You close—it’s nakedness.
Clad in my boots and holster,
I would roam with my six-gun buddies.
We dealt fake death to one another,
Fell and rolled in filth and rose,
Grimy with wounds, then headed home.
But Sunday ... what was that tired explanation
Given for wearing clothes that
Scratched and shone and weighed like a slow hour?
That we should shine—in gratitude.
So, I give that explanation, undressing them,
And wait for the result.
After a day like Sunday, such a long one,
When they lie down, half-dead,
To be undone, they won’t help me.
They cry, “It’s not my fault.”
The next is a little more well-known.
When You Are Old
By William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
The next is funnier.
Why I Am Not a Painter
By Frank O'Hara
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
I have all of these memorized (the third is still a little shaky). So now I'm going to be practicing them obsessively and hoping against hope I make it to regionals (hopefully states), as this is my last year to do it.
That's all that's interesting at the moment. Rachel and I are enjoying this final week before she leaves again for college, and now I have to leave for work.
_Dr. M
Sunday, January 4, 2009
New Horizons
What a mushy title. Oh well, I couldn't think of a better one.
These past few days have been great. Friday me and Rachel went to the mall and I became acquainted with the joys of spending money. I now have a copy of Pan's Labyrinth (from the bargain bin) which I'm really excited about seeing, I have an interesting new calendar featuring some paintings by H.R. Giger, and I have two new pairs of pants which are probably just about the most amazing pants I've ever owned. My art teacher told the class about them, about how wonderful they are, and man is he right. They're lined with flannel, so it feels like you're walking around in pajamas all day, it's soooooo comfortable and warm. It really is all about the simple joys.
Saturday we slept and watched TV, all day. We were going to meet up with a friend, but it didn't work out.
I've been friends with this girl named Misty for years, since I was in like elementary school. Her grandparents used to be my next door neighbors. Our relationship has gone through many different phases over the years, but lately we've hardly spoke to each other. Nobody's fault really, just that it can be hard making time for somebody when everything else gets in the way. Also, my relationship with Rachel means exclusive friendships with other women has been something I've shied away from. It's not like we're married, but in a way it kind of is, and I don't really trust myself not to create problems where they don't belong. I feel guilty about letting our relationship slide though, I don't want to lose her as a friend. I was excited about seeing her on Saturday, but it turns out she had to spend the day with her father whom she didn't see much over break. I didn't mind of course, but hopefully I'll get to spend some time with her soon.
Her father's a really cool dude. He's an amazing guitarist, in all likelihood I'll be starting guitar lessons with him soon.
In other news, my parents ordered a copy of Logic for me. Logic is the music production software I bought my computer in order to run. It's similar to GarageBand except a million times more functional. It's a professional program that people in Hollywood are using, I'm psyched about having it to learn and record with.
Also, there's this crazy kid I've known since freshman year named Khai, who I happened to see at the mall. He told me he plays the guitar, and we might be starting a band (the two of us). A sort of pop-punk/electronica thing is the idea right now, it's still just talk but I hope that actually comes to fruition. We might get signed and start touring and be the next Greenday, and now you know before anybody else. Congratulations.
Later.
_Dr. M
These past few days have been great. Friday me and Rachel went to the mall and I became acquainted with the joys of spending money. I now have a copy of Pan's Labyrinth (from the bargain bin) which I'm really excited about seeing, I have an interesting new calendar featuring some paintings by H.R. Giger, and I have two new pairs of pants which are probably just about the most amazing pants I've ever owned. My art teacher told the class about them, about how wonderful they are, and man is he right. They're lined with flannel, so it feels like you're walking around in pajamas all day, it's soooooo comfortable and warm. It really is all about the simple joys.
Saturday we slept and watched TV, all day. We were going to meet up with a friend, but it didn't work out.
I've been friends with this girl named Misty for years, since I was in like elementary school. Her grandparents used to be my next door neighbors. Our relationship has gone through many different phases over the years, but lately we've hardly spoke to each other. Nobody's fault really, just that it can be hard making time for somebody when everything else gets in the way. Also, my relationship with Rachel means exclusive friendships with other women has been something I've shied away from. It's not like we're married, but in a way it kind of is, and I don't really trust myself not to create problems where they don't belong. I feel guilty about letting our relationship slide though, I don't want to lose her as a friend. I was excited about seeing her on Saturday, but it turns out she had to spend the day with her father whom she didn't see much over break. I didn't mind of course, but hopefully I'll get to spend some time with her soon.
Her father's a really cool dude. He's an amazing guitarist, in all likelihood I'll be starting guitar lessons with him soon.
In other news, my parents ordered a copy of Logic for me. Logic is the music production software I bought my computer in order to run. It's similar to GarageBand except a million times more functional. It's a professional program that people in Hollywood are using, I'm psyched about having it to learn and record with.
Also, there's this crazy kid I've known since freshman year named Khai, who I happened to see at the mall. He told me he plays the guitar, and we might be starting a band (the two of us). A sort of pop-punk/electronica thing is the idea right now, it's still just talk but I hope that actually comes to fruition. We might get signed and start touring and be the next Greenday, and now you know before anybody else. Congratulations.
Later.
_Dr. M
Friday, January 2, 2009
seriously, 2009
Who am I kidding? I wanted to really open up emotionally in this blog, not just chart my day-to-day events, and what better time than the ending of the year to do a shmaultzy retrospective?
Here's looking forward, and backwards.
At the beginning of last year I was smack dab in the middle of my eleventh grade year. I wasn't doing too well in school but trying to ignore it, I think. Looking ahead, I felt like my entire life was about to end. Rachel was leaving! It felt like a crushing weight strapped to my chest that grew heavier every day. Rachel was leaving for college and I wouldn't see her for months at a time! Good lord, I was depressed.
That spring was crazy. All at once, I had the chorus festivals which were amazing (all four of them), and I had Poetry Out Loud (more about that later), and I had school show, and prom, and all the club trips we were taking, and it all just came at me at once and I was more than a little overwhelmed. I'm promising myself not to let that happen again this year, but I'm not doing anything to prevent it either. If anything I'm setting myself up for an even worse spring.
But it all came and went and I lived. In the end I got to say that I am an all-state musician, something I never thought I'd get to say, and that I have been with the same girl for two years. School show was just ridiculous, but there were parts of it that were fun, as there always are. Most importantly, the school year ended and there would be only one left.
The summer was really pretty bad. Looking back on it, it was not good at all. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I did not have a good summer. Rachel was working as a lifeguard, which meant I didn't get to see her as much as I wanted to. Allow me to describe my state at this point as flat-out panic. Rachel's leaving! She's going away! What am I going to do? Then, to make everything worse, a whole three week chunk of the summer was gone, just like that, in this retarded college preparation program my mother forced me to go to. It was a state-run program where you leave for two weeks the summer after your sophomore year, then three weeks after your junior year. You go to live at one of the state schools and learn about college. That first two weeks in o seven were spent mostly learning how not to be fat, because most of the counselors were at college learning physical education. These three weeks in o eight were supposedly more academic, we attended college courses like we were in college, except without the drinking and sex. The courses were a little bogus, the grades were worth nothing, the only nice thing was I found two or three pretty cool people to hang around with. If we completed these two sessions we'd get money for college, if we went to one of the fourteen state schools. I wasn't seriously planning on going to a state school and my mother knew it. This became her way of punishing me for the misery I'd put her through with my grades throughout the years.
And I've finally come to terms with just how much of a waste those three weeks were. I didn't want to admit it before, because these particular three weeks were smack dab in the middle of the last summer I had with Rachel before she left, and I just had to make some sense of it, I just had to convince myself there was a reason. But there wasn't. The counselors at the program were trying to cut a check. The kids were going through the motions so they'd maybe get some cash for college. And three weeks later I had learned nothing, gained nothing, and it's three weeks I'll never get back, three weeks I could have spent with Rachel, and you know, I don't think I'll ever be okay with that. Rationalize, trivialize all you want, those three weeks were important and now they're gone. That whole period of my life is gone, it ended when Rachel left, and there was no reason to cut it short like that.
But it's almost kind of funny to think about, I really thought my relationship with Rachel might end when she left, but no. No, it's still going strong, stronger than ever in fact, and looking back it's not much of a surprise. But still, having her there with me in school, every day, that was really something. I do miss it.
Something else I missed over the summer was my grandparent's visiting for the week. My father's parents. Talk about your mixed feelings. If I were to be brutally honest with myself, I'd admit that I have all the respect and obligatory love in the world for them, but I've never been close to them and I never will be. They moved to Tennessee before I was born and we didn't get to see them very much while I was growing up. When we did... well... I was a little kid you see, and it's hard for little kids to see things much past a basic sense of "fun" and "not fun". Seeing my mom's mom in the Adirondacks, zipping through the woods on an ATV and having camp fires, that was "fun". Going down to that miserable hot little cabin in Tennessee with my dad's parents where everything smelled funny and every time I was anywhere near my grandmother she'd find something to yell at me about and judge me about, that was "not fun". Call me selfish, inconsiderate, disrespectful, but the truth is the truth and I'm not sorry at all I missed their visit this summer.
My brother, he has all sorts of happy memories at their cabin. He went there on his own for three weeks every summer when he was a kid. They loved him to death. I don't know what they thought when they thought of me, but for the life of me I can't remember a single kind word, a single... well... they did smile at me occasionally I guess. I don't know. they were very old, your relationship with your grandparents never runs much deeper than milk and cookies. But I don't think they liked me growing up. Not that I was the world's greatest kid.
Maybe things would be different now. Maybe I should try connecting with them. Who am I kidding. My grandfather has been of very ill health lately, I'm not sure he was ever completely convinced I was his grandson, but now he's not even sure if his oldest son is married. So there goes that. My grandmother's still all there, women tend to be, but I still don't really want to get to know her. Every time part of my family goes to see them I'm in the part that doesn't. I don't know if I've seen them more than once since I've been in high school.
But I digress (majorly). This fall was good. Classes were a breeze, Rachel and I talked at length every night. School seems a little bit like a completely different place now without Rachel and the other seniors, which I actually had predicted. Now we're the old ones in the school, it's weird to think that every single upper classman I knew freshman year has now graduated, it really is like a whole other school. I have a strong indifference to just about everybody there, I don't think I'll exactly be in tears come graduation.
So, that's where we are. Looking ahead... I think the hardest thing about this next season will be keeping a clear head. Making sure of my surroundings... knowing what's up next and what I need to prepare for. This break has been a waste as they always are, but hopefully things will start rolling when school starts again. Things will start rolling... more like spiral out of control. It's the traditional second-term festivity.
I really really don't want to do school show this year. Every bone in my body aches. I don't want to do it so so badly. Every year I do it, every year I don't have a good time and I think the show is terrible, every minute I spend doing it I spend wishing I were doing other things. Think of how much more time I could have if I just skipped it, for music, for work, for life. Everything would be so much easier if I could just skip it. Why don't I, you ask?
You don't understand.
For the past three years, school show has been part of my very existence. It's that big chunk of time I waste every single February, March and April. It's just there. If it were not there... what... what would I do? I'll tell you what I'd do, I'd hide my face in shame every time I passed by someone who was in it, I'd lose sleep every night thinking about what I've done, what I've missed out on... my senior show. I have to do it. It's my last year. I've done it every year so far... three years... How many of my class mates can say that? Three, maybe four. I don't know why I feel so obliged to finish out something I hate doing, but there it is.
I'm doing school show.
Honestly I wish the auditorium and everybody involved in the show would all fall through some sort of temporal rift... just for the next three months... maybe they could spend it somewhere nicer than here. And warmer.
Looking past this spring, I've got a whole summer to look forward to. Then, hopefully, college. You know I'm really glad I'm doing this blog. This is an important time in my life, I'm going to enjoy having this to look back on. I just hope I actually keep at it.
There are in fact a few changes I want to make for this year. I want to take my classes a little more seriously. No more skipping, anything. Every morning I have to make a reason to drag myself out of bed, like "oh maybe I'll skip piano today", "we're not doing anything in music major", etc. No more of that. I'm getting out of bed because there's school and that's that. I'm going to bed earlier too. Sleep won't be much of a problem after this quarter ends because I'll be switching to seventh period chorus which means no more 7:30 AM period one, and I'm not taking piano this semester, which means I can lazily drift into school some time between 8:14 and 9:00. But it won't be a slippery slope, I will indeed wake up on time and get to school when I need to.
And I want to make sure I'm getting stuff done, as always. So there, there are some resolutions if you like that term. Nothing unreasonable, strictly practical and doable.
Okay, there's a fairly shmaultzy retrospective for you. So here's to another year of big changes, failures, successes, and hopefully lots and lots of music and sex.
-Dr. M
Here's looking forward, and backwards.
At the beginning of last year I was smack dab in the middle of my eleventh grade year. I wasn't doing too well in school but trying to ignore it, I think. Looking ahead, I felt like my entire life was about to end. Rachel was leaving! It felt like a crushing weight strapped to my chest that grew heavier every day. Rachel was leaving for college and I wouldn't see her for months at a time! Good lord, I was depressed.
That spring was crazy. All at once, I had the chorus festivals which were amazing (all four of them), and I had Poetry Out Loud (more about that later), and I had school show, and prom, and all the club trips we were taking, and it all just came at me at once and I was more than a little overwhelmed. I'm promising myself not to let that happen again this year, but I'm not doing anything to prevent it either. If anything I'm setting myself up for an even worse spring.
But it all came and went and I lived. In the end I got to say that I am an all-state musician, something I never thought I'd get to say, and that I have been with the same girl for two years. School show was just ridiculous, but there were parts of it that were fun, as there always are. Most importantly, the school year ended and there would be only one left.
The summer was really pretty bad. Looking back on it, it was not good at all. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I did not have a good summer. Rachel was working as a lifeguard, which meant I didn't get to see her as much as I wanted to. Allow me to describe my state at this point as flat-out panic. Rachel's leaving! She's going away! What am I going to do? Then, to make everything worse, a whole three week chunk of the summer was gone, just like that, in this retarded college preparation program my mother forced me to go to. It was a state-run program where you leave for two weeks the summer after your sophomore year, then three weeks after your junior year. You go to live at one of the state schools and learn about college. That first two weeks in o seven were spent mostly learning how not to be fat, because most of the counselors were at college learning physical education. These three weeks in o eight were supposedly more academic, we attended college courses like we were in college, except without the drinking and sex. The courses were a little bogus, the grades were worth nothing, the only nice thing was I found two or three pretty cool people to hang around with. If we completed these two sessions we'd get money for college, if we went to one of the fourteen state schools. I wasn't seriously planning on going to a state school and my mother knew it. This became her way of punishing me for the misery I'd put her through with my grades throughout the years.
And I've finally come to terms with just how much of a waste those three weeks were. I didn't want to admit it before, because these particular three weeks were smack dab in the middle of the last summer I had with Rachel before she left, and I just had to make some sense of it, I just had to convince myself there was a reason. But there wasn't. The counselors at the program were trying to cut a check. The kids were going through the motions so they'd maybe get some cash for college. And three weeks later I had learned nothing, gained nothing, and it's three weeks I'll never get back, three weeks I could have spent with Rachel, and you know, I don't think I'll ever be okay with that. Rationalize, trivialize all you want, those three weeks were important and now they're gone. That whole period of my life is gone, it ended when Rachel left, and there was no reason to cut it short like that.
But it's almost kind of funny to think about, I really thought my relationship with Rachel might end when she left, but no. No, it's still going strong, stronger than ever in fact, and looking back it's not much of a surprise. But still, having her there with me in school, every day, that was really something. I do miss it.
Something else I missed over the summer was my grandparent's visiting for the week. My father's parents. Talk about your mixed feelings. If I were to be brutally honest with myself, I'd admit that I have all the respect and obligatory love in the world for them, but I've never been close to them and I never will be. They moved to Tennessee before I was born and we didn't get to see them very much while I was growing up. When we did... well... I was a little kid you see, and it's hard for little kids to see things much past a basic sense of "fun" and "not fun". Seeing my mom's mom in the Adirondacks, zipping through the woods on an ATV and having camp fires, that was "fun". Going down to that miserable hot little cabin in Tennessee with my dad's parents where everything smelled funny and every time I was anywhere near my grandmother she'd find something to yell at me about and judge me about, that was "not fun". Call me selfish, inconsiderate, disrespectful, but the truth is the truth and I'm not sorry at all I missed their visit this summer.
My brother, he has all sorts of happy memories at their cabin. He went there on his own for three weeks every summer when he was a kid. They loved him to death. I don't know what they thought when they thought of me, but for the life of me I can't remember a single kind word, a single... well... they did smile at me occasionally I guess. I don't know. they were very old, your relationship with your grandparents never runs much deeper than milk and cookies. But I don't think they liked me growing up. Not that I was the world's greatest kid.
Maybe things would be different now. Maybe I should try connecting with them. Who am I kidding. My grandfather has been of very ill health lately, I'm not sure he was ever completely convinced I was his grandson, but now he's not even sure if his oldest son is married. So there goes that. My grandmother's still all there, women tend to be, but I still don't really want to get to know her. Every time part of my family goes to see them I'm in the part that doesn't. I don't know if I've seen them more than once since I've been in high school.
But I digress (majorly). This fall was good. Classes were a breeze, Rachel and I talked at length every night. School seems a little bit like a completely different place now without Rachel and the other seniors, which I actually had predicted. Now we're the old ones in the school, it's weird to think that every single upper classman I knew freshman year has now graduated, it really is like a whole other school. I have a strong indifference to just about everybody there, I don't think I'll exactly be in tears come graduation.
So, that's where we are. Looking ahead... I think the hardest thing about this next season will be keeping a clear head. Making sure of my surroundings... knowing what's up next and what I need to prepare for. This break has been a waste as they always are, but hopefully things will start rolling when school starts again. Things will start rolling... more like spiral out of control. It's the traditional second-term festivity.
I really really don't want to do school show this year. Every bone in my body aches. I don't want to do it so so badly. Every year I do it, every year I don't have a good time and I think the show is terrible, every minute I spend doing it I spend wishing I were doing other things. Think of how much more time I could have if I just skipped it, for music, for work, for life. Everything would be so much easier if I could just skip it. Why don't I, you ask?
You don't understand.
For the past three years, school show has been part of my very existence. It's that big chunk of time I waste every single February, March and April. It's just there. If it were not there... what... what would I do? I'll tell you what I'd do, I'd hide my face in shame every time I passed by someone who was in it, I'd lose sleep every night thinking about what I've done, what I've missed out on... my senior show. I have to do it. It's my last year. I've done it every year so far... three years... How many of my class mates can say that? Three, maybe four. I don't know why I feel so obliged to finish out something I hate doing, but there it is.
I'm doing school show.
Honestly I wish the auditorium and everybody involved in the show would all fall through some sort of temporal rift... just for the next three months... maybe they could spend it somewhere nicer than here. And warmer.
Looking past this spring, I've got a whole summer to look forward to. Then, hopefully, college. You know I'm really glad I'm doing this blog. This is an important time in my life, I'm going to enjoy having this to look back on. I just hope I actually keep at it.
There are in fact a few changes I want to make for this year. I want to take my classes a little more seriously. No more skipping, anything. Every morning I have to make a reason to drag myself out of bed, like "oh maybe I'll skip piano today", "we're not doing anything in music major", etc. No more of that. I'm getting out of bed because there's school and that's that. I'm going to bed earlier too. Sleep won't be much of a problem after this quarter ends because I'll be switching to seventh period chorus which means no more 7:30 AM period one, and I'm not taking piano this semester, which means I can lazily drift into school some time between 8:14 and 9:00. But it won't be a slippery slope, I will indeed wake up on time and get to school when I need to.
And I want to make sure I'm getting stuff done, as always. So there, there are some resolutions if you like that term. Nothing unreasonable, strictly practical and doable.
Okay, there's a fairly shmaultzy retrospective for you. So here's to another year of big changes, failures, successes, and hopefully lots and lots of music and sex.
-Dr. M
Thursday, January 1, 2009
2009! oh boy
I suppose the appropriate phrase here would be "Happy new year!"
So, here it goes.
Happy new year!
I haven't posted in a while. Because it's so extremely important, here's a rundown of my entire week so far, best I can remember.
Monday: Worked. From five to nine.
Tuesday: Spent the day with Rachel at my house. We mostly just hung around and watched TV. This would have been a pretty blah day, except I was with the person with whom I am in love. That has a way of making everything good.
Wednesday: Worked. Then we had New Years. We were going to meet up with our friend Ashley (she was in Rachel's class, she now attends a university which I am again forgetting the name of =P) and knew we wanted to go out somewhere. The three of us aren't exactly down on the whole Reading party scene (bump, da-bump DA bump, da-bump DA bump) so we decided to go up to the Pagoda. Mount Penn is the pint-size mountain range lining one side of our fair city. On top of it sits the Pagoda, Reading's symbol as of the last twenty years or so. It's a random piece of Asian architecture, originally a failed bed and breakfast, I believe. Anyway, every new year's they do fireworks near it for the city to watch, so we hung out right where the action was. It was a nice local shin-dig, the radio station was there, the mayor popped in at the end. It was extremely, extremely cold, but other than that the three of us had a very good time.
I will never ever in my life stop being amazed at the way sound works, and the way we perceive it. The boom of the fireworks echoed off the city, creating this tremendous roar that sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once.
Today I was at Rachel's house. We watched more TV, specifically the Twilight Zone. I love that show.
I have to wash the dishes tonight, and work on a song I have to do for this thing. Maybe I'll explain more about it later.
That's all for now.
-Dr. M
P.S. My sole new year's resolution is to post in this blog. Every day or almost every day. That should be fun.
So, here it goes.
Happy new year!
I haven't posted in a while. Because it's so extremely important, here's a rundown of my entire week so far, best I can remember.
Monday: Worked. From five to nine.
Tuesday: Spent the day with Rachel at my house. We mostly just hung around and watched TV. This would have been a pretty blah day, except I was with the person with whom I am in love. That has a way of making everything good.
Wednesday: Worked. Then we had New Years. We were going to meet up with our friend Ashley (she was in Rachel's class, she now attends a university which I am again forgetting the name of =P) and knew we wanted to go out somewhere. The three of us aren't exactly down on the whole Reading party scene (bump, da-bump DA bump, da-bump DA bump) so we decided to go up to the Pagoda. Mount Penn is the pint-size mountain range lining one side of our fair city. On top of it sits the Pagoda, Reading's symbol as of the last twenty years or so. It's a random piece of Asian architecture, originally a failed bed and breakfast, I believe. Anyway, every new year's they do fireworks near it for the city to watch, so we hung out right where the action was. It was a nice local shin-dig, the radio station was there, the mayor popped in at the end. It was extremely, extremely cold, but other than that the three of us had a very good time.
I will never ever in my life stop being amazed at the way sound works, and the way we perceive it. The boom of the fireworks echoed off the city, creating this tremendous roar that sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once.
Today I was at Rachel's house. We watched more TV, specifically the Twilight Zone. I love that show.
I have to wash the dishes tonight, and work on a song I have to do for this thing. Maybe I'll explain more about it later.
That's all for now.
-Dr. M
P.S. My sole new year's resolution is to post in this blog. Every day or almost every day. That should be fun.
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