tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33037522011-04-21T13:58:26.823-05:00Last in LineLife at the end of the alphabet...Z.noreply@blogger.comBlogger1111100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-18401457594273710752007-06-02T19:28:00.001-05:002007-06-02T19:28:48.237-05:00Welcome to L.A. Welcome to L.A. Originally uploaded by zulaufdesign nuff said.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-999872376906573442007-05-18T22:30:00.000-05:002007-05-18T22:31:36.125-05:00Cleveland.So I am currently in the "mistake by the lake"--Cleveland, glorious Cleveland. It's not the best city I've ever visited. Probably not the second best. Or third. But it's not a bad place to come and spend a couple days doing absolutely nothing. It's exactly the sort of place you want to go to clear your head. Life seems simpler in Cleveland. You look around and think to yourself, "if these Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-5233733930889975012007-05-03T16:10:00.001-05:002007-05-03T16:10:42.589-05:00FW:This is jesse jackson being interviewed on mich ave one minute ago.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-91392854428352904572007-04-27T19:37:00.001-05:002007-05-01T12:49:41.231-05:00Must get waterIm on my way to the premiere of Water at chidramatists. I am running late. I hope i get there. I hope it's good.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-67520714052263862842007-04-27T13:42:00.001-05:002007-04-27T13:42:57.290-05:00Multimedia messageThis is nick.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-1115407610034279432005-05-06T14:18:00.000-05:002005-05-06T14:27:33.320-05:00Watercress and that Citric Acid v Toothpaste kind of Animosity.It's Tech for the show I'm ADing / acting in. So I'm tired. I'm a smidge confused. I hope the show works. And I'm generally lovin it. This whole theatre thing... I think I'm in favor of it. I've been acting a lot more than I have for a while recently. And that feels strange. I get really nervous. People are always very complimentary, but it never gets comfortable. I never feel Z.noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-1106246891398975272005-01-20T13:41:00.000-06:002005-01-20T12:48:11.396-06:00Burning the headless chickens at both ends.There's something in the 4 degree air here that is making it tough to focus and work. I had a guy yesterday explain it like this: when you are walking through snow and ice for weeks at a time, unsure of your footing, it makes your heart and mind unsure of itself. And he might have nailed it.
It's draining to always be jumpy. It keeps your breathing constrained to to the upper limits of your Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-1106070678514090552005-01-18T11:46:00.000-06:002005-01-18T11:51:18.513-06:00Silence is fun to break.Fuck clothes. Time and distance make the man.
Z.noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-1071120815871686902003-12-10T23:33:00.000-06:002003-12-10T23:34:21.780-06:00testZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-813600772002-09-09T11:04:00.000-05:002002-09-09T11:04:35.376-05:00I have now weeded out the unfaithful. If after that LONG silence, you still check this lowly site of mine, you are permitted to continue doing so. Love you all.
So, I'm in the lovely Seattle-Tacoma International Airport at the moment. t's a lovely day. Lovely lovely.
I miss Sonie-jet-pants-a-riffic! I've been on a plane for the last two days straight. Recap from trip: Detroit blows. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-808074852002-08-27T22:32:00.000-05:002002-08-27T22:32:46.426-05:00I've currently resumed my audition proctoring duties for for Tank Plays. The 8:00 crew just went in. I'm sitting on the sidewalk outside the Nippon Kan snaking somebody's high speed wireless network connection. Go technology. And it's just a figgin' postcard out over Elliott Bay--Ferry, water, lighthouse, mountains, sunset. It's surreal at this moment to think that we live 10 months out of Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-799473902002-08-07T13:58:00.000-05:002002-08-07T13:58:42.803-05:00I've been having technical difficulties posting to lastinline. My apologies. I'm on my housemates computer now, and it seems to work just fine.
So a few days ago, I was talking with my Mom. I had just dyed my hair blue. And she was telling me how I certainly hadn't got the aspect of my personality which feels comfortable running off and getting all crayola on my hair from her. To which I Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-796664252002-07-31T20:28:00.000-05:002002-07-31T20:28:48.643-05:00I have fabulous blue hair. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-794836342002-07-27T14:58:00.000-05:002002-07-27T14:58:06.260-05:00Okay, I'm dashing out the door to have a late breakfast, but I got pissed off in the shower and had to come post quickly. What the hell is up with the phrase "All things being equal?" I mean really, when was the last time you were aware of ALL things being equal? I don't know why this is pissing me off at the moment, but it is. I'll need to write a short play called all things being equal, Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-794638472002-07-26T22:41:00.000-05:002002-07-26T22:41:48.133-05:00On my 10 point scale, I've been holding steady at about a six for the past couple days. I'm not entirely sure why that is, but it is. I'm just feeling eh. I've been getting headaches often, and my back and neck are sore. And that just blows. Not so much a good thing.
My brother was hit by a drunk driver a while back--he's fine--but through a snafu with the insurance company, a towtruck Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-793754812002-07-24T22:17:00.000-05:002002-07-24T22:17:43.980-05:00To write fiction, you must only keep answering the same question, and keep answering it well--what happens next? It doesn't seem like such a hard thing to do, really, but it is. I can't say why exactly. I have some guesses, but I don't reeally know. Perhaps it's because of that little word "well." What makes one answer a good answer, and what makes another one bad? I suppose that a good Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-793416642002-07-24T05:45:00.000-05:002002-07-24T05:45:43.960-05:00This is a post.
This is a little section of my day where I sit down and type some thoughts in to a computer. This is something I have neglected to do for some time, and for an even longer time with any regularity. I'm back. I'm well rested. And I don't have any more worthwhile excuses. So if you see me slacking with my posts, and you see me in the grocery store or wherever, kick my ass. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-790866002002-07-17T19:55:00.000-05:002002-07-17T19:55:22.816-05:00Home.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-789911082002-07-15T17:06:00.000-05:002002-07-15T17:06:39.676-05:00I come home tomorrow. But that's tomorrow. tonight I'm in London. I have a pounding headache. I'm angry. And sad. And Tired. And overwhealmed. And just stuff. I need to have my own bed, and sleep for a long time, and then drink a shit-load of coffee. And then invite all the really cool people I know over for one giant cuddle-fest. I need processing time. And decompressing time. And, Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-784281282002-07-01T13:55:00.000-05:002002-07-01T13:55:59.320-05:00Fine, you all want to know?
Potato chips.
I got arrested for potato chips.
And, yes, I'm serious.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-781745222002-06-25T07:49:00.000-05:002002-06-25T08:05:57.000-05:00I'm not really functioning at the moment. I keep staring at the screen and failing to actually come up with a full thought to put down. What am I thinking about? I'm sad to be leaving here. i've really grown attached to Vilnius. With all it's faults and backwardsness and annoyances it's still lively and charming. And funny. And i really would like to come back. Maybe open up a hotdog Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-781736992002-06-25T07:09:00.000-05:002002-06-25T07:09:45.893-05:00No trip to Lithuania is complete without that one good "time I got arrested" story. Luckily I've been able to take care of mine. That's right. I got arrested in Lithuania. How cool is that?Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-778141912002-06-16T13:25:00.000-05:002002-06-16T13:25:21.670-05:00Okay, so US got a serious ass-whoopin' by Poland. They're still winning this thing. i mean, it's just the world cup. And, i mean, it's only soccer. We're winning it. It's all part of the strategy. We like being the underdog. We like being underestimated. Because then it hurts even more when we take you down. We don't just like winning, we like it to sting. We don't play the whole, Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-776985502002-06-13T09:55:00.000-05:002002-06-13T09:59:39.000-05:00Oh, and I'll be living with TMFSanders when I get back.
Also, USA is going to beat the pants off Poland in World Cup action tomorrow and advance to the next round. The US team is so badass. Wait, am I actually paying attention to soccer? What's up with that? GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooal!!!!
hehe.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-776975212002-06-13T09:24:00.000-05:002002-06-13T09:24:50.270-05:00Lithuania is a strange place. Vilnius is very familiar somehow--less foreign than Poland, even. It's a lot like a small city in Pennsylvania that you just accidently overlooked that was settled 600 some years ago with cobblestone streets and where they aren't into lawn care. They speak Lithuanian here one of two surviving Baltic languages--very old, and very complicated to learn and speak--Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-775680112002-06-10T10:43:00.000-05:002002-06-10T10:43:17.633-05:00For some reason, when I try to post, things crash.
Then I leave so I don't go on a rampage in the Lithuanian internet cafe.
Things are amazingly good. Jazz fest last weekend in Kleipeda--a 750 year old city on the Baltic Sea. Stockholm next week. The play is comming together nicely, albeit slowly.
Praying this posts.
Miss you all. Z.
Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-771430412002-05-30T10:11:00.000-05:002002-05-30T10:11:29.236-05:00A tawdry little affair in Prague.
Waking up on the train to find my pants sliced open and my wallet gone.
Sleeping homeless in a park in Warsaw.
Being rescued by a polish angel.
Getting to Vilnius, and having my phone number for Paul not work, then running into Paul on the street.
Getting wired money from my parents and life returning to normal--in Lithuania.
God what a spectacular trip!
Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-768882082002-05-23T11:58:00.000-05:002002-05-23T12:02:10.000-05:00People kiss in Prague. All the time. Everywhere. You can hardly spit without hitting tongue. It's amazing. And they are so casual about it. It's like an alternate activity. Do you feel like seeing a movie? Naw, let's make out in public instead. It's just funny. And it's, and this is going to sound really weird here, but like a totally non-sexual thing. In the US, it seems that if you Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767956602002-05-21T07:44:00.000-05:002002-05-21T07:44:39.080-05:00Least favorite way to be woken up ever: 4 am on a train to prague by a Third Reich Nazi woman dressed in all olive drab and holstering a glock bursting into your compartment barking "Pasporten Check." I almost crapped myself.
I look forward to getting some actual bed sleep for the first time in the last three nights tonight. It will be a most wonderful thing.
So I'm in a bagel shop/internet Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767677762002-05-20T14:46:00.000-05:002002-05-20T14:46:23.480-05:00Hey Barta, maybe I don't remember your email address. Shoot me an email. Actually, everyone shoot me an email, and put your physical address in it. I'm going to try and do some post cards. I have never done post cards before, and feel that I should. Z.noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767662902002-05-20T14:04:00.000-05:002002-05-20T14:04:45.230-05:00What a day. The keyboard layout is different in Germany. Who'd a thunk it? This is going to take me forever to type.
Okay, anyway. So sixteen hour plane flights suck. There's no getting around that one. It was a pretty empty flight from Seattle to Toronto, but Toronto to Munich was packed. Toronto Airport needs some videogames or something. It' a sterile environment. I went to the Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767199772002-05-19T06:12:00.000-05:002002-05-19T06:12:11.446-05:00I am about to begin packing.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767060762002-05-18T19:03:00.000-05:002002-05-18T19:03:11.243-05:00Wow.
Wow.
Woweewowowow.
It just hit me. I'm going to europe in 14 hours. How do I know this? I just suspended my cell phone. It's inoperable. I haven't been without my cell for 4 years. Jesus is that right? I think it is. Wow. It's funny. Losing my cell phone is what scares me. Damn. Wow.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-767004512002-05-18T13:56:00.000-05:002002-05-18T13:56:53.243-05:00I leave for europe in 20 hours. 20. Holy Allah on Asparagus. I should start packing. My email address for when I'm traveling will be my name, zach zulauf, all as one word, @ either yahoo.com or hotmail.com. Why am I explaining it like this rather than just writing it? because I don't want it to be picked up by roving bots and added to more spam lists. I get enough spam. Paranoid? You Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-765970132002-05-15T19:10:00.000-05:002002-05-15T19:10:04.860-05:00Sun. Breeze. Anxiety. Excitement. Tension. Thirst. Fear. Grounding....Grounding.... Wanting to get to grounded. Underpromise and overdeliver. Honesty. Maybe bowling is the answer. Maybe. Maybe I need a nap. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-765045922002-05-13T13:53:00.000-05:002002-05-13T13:53:55.736-05:00Well I'm back in town. And yeah, it took a little longer than expected, but I feel great. I just wasn't ready to come back on Tuesday. Plus I would have had to leave my game of mini golf down in Santa Cruz early if I wanted to make my flight, which, you know, just wasn't an option. I mean, c'mon, mini-golf. And pirate themed mini golf at that.
I had a lot of fun walking around berkeley Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-761504332002-05-04T05:31:00.000-05:002002-05-04T05:31:53.060-05:00The Lovely Tricia turned 31 today, (well, yesterday, technically, now). HAPPY FRIGGIN B-DAY TRICIA!!! I gave people who placed their custom CD orders early, their CDs. I hope they liked them. I had a blast doing up the discs for them. Bill got his before he left. I still need to design up a cover for Nick's. I like designing stuff. I like making mix CDs. I wish I knew more about music.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-761133042002-05-03T04:00:00.000-05:002002-05-03T04:00:57.593-05:00Well, my Mom got older today (well, yesterday, now). Happy Birthday, Mom. And as part of the festivities, my Mon, Dad, brother and I went to the art museum--first Thursday and all that jazz. And I have to say...how do I phrase this...a lot of art sucks. I know, I know, you aren't supposed to say such things. And yeah, the problem isn't the art, it's me. But still. I don't like it.
Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-760688572002-05-02T00:18:00.000-05:002002-05-02T00:18:37.470-05:00I took a nod from the Stage Managing Queen of Verbatim, and added the Commenting Services of Yaccs. The commenting window looks all generic at the moment. I'll try to at least match up the colors at some point. But not right now. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-760340322002-05-01T04:00:00.000-05:002002-05-01T04:00:34.720-05:00Do I have something to say tonight? Probably not.
Ludacris is on late night tv performing "roll out"--a song I actually like. But for some reason, hip-hop artists really haven't mastered the art of live performance. I know that's a huge generalization, but tell me I'm wrong. And alas, Ludacris has fallen prey to that same trap. For shame.
I'm trying to write a play for the Tank Plays, Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-760147762002-04-30T16:49:00.000-05:002002-04-30T16:49:41.000-05:00Mr. Mike Ochs has a new column up. For those of you who enjoyed the last batch, here's another. Warning: May pull heart strings.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-759953862002-04-30T04:50:00.000-05:002002-04-30T04:50:51.190-05:00I want to know what time it is in Lithuania. There are websites for such things. Ah, convenience.
I had a little weird moment tonight. I was driving home. Stoplight. A rellow cab to my right. I turned to look and there was a woman in the front seat. Pretty. Looking at me. I kinda half smile and turned away and resumed mildly bopping to the motown on the radio. A minute later I look Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-759556542002-04-29T03:51:00.000-05:002002-04-29T03:51:50.546-05:00Screwed up the html on that last post. Now I can't edit it.
Well, at least that's more interesting than my usual bad spelling.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-759556242002-04-29T03:49:00.000-05:002002-04-29T03:49:30.170-05:00Making mix CDs. Place your order now. Some mention of musical taste is very helpful. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-759118092002-04-27T21:22:00.000-05:002002-04-27T21:22:37.303-05:00Confidential to Scylla: Bosses suck. They just completely do. Kick 'em in the shins. Should I just not call? Cuz I can do that, if need be. Or should we use a "safe word" of some sort, so I know that your prick of a boss is listening and I should keep it short and not expect anything in the form of an emotional outpouring? My favorite safe word is "Arkansas". We could use that. It isn't Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-758600162002-04-26T15:15:00.000-05:002002-04-26T15:15:36.306-05:00The rain sounds nice to me. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-757870772002-04-24T18:54:00.000-05:002002-04-24T18:54:21.396-05:00Okay, I've needed and wanted a haircut for at least 6 weeks now. And I still haven't gotten one. It's complicated. I dyed my hair about a year ago. And I'm now down to a few inches of blondishness on the end of some chunks of hair. And I feel that if I get a haircut, and I trim those blondish bits down, or off, that my hair will just be too dark. And so I want a new dye job. But how shouldZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-757593422002-04-24T01:46:00.000-05:002002-04-24T01:46:54.196-05:00Sick. Not sick. Sick. Not sick. Sick again.
So tired of it.
Blech.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-757050332002-04-22T18:20:00.000-05:002002-04-22T18:20:45.653-05:00Some people just make you calmer when you are around them. I got to have breakfast with one of them.
We then trekked around the REI store. I always like doing that. It always makes me feel like I do cool Northwesty stuff that I really don't. And going around the store, I was surprised to find that they had a rather vast selection of hawaiian shirts, and that the measurements for a rain Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-756311182002-04-20T17:19:00.000-05:002002-04-20T17:21:04.000-05:00When I came around that turn and saw those breaklights go fire-engire red. I just knew I was in trouble. We were all going about 75. Their breaks were just better than mine. I had three thoughts:
1. I don't feel like getting into an accident today.
2. I have room to my right.
3. I have my seatbelt on.
And that was all it took. Next thing I know I feel like I'm driving on a slip and Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-756059512002-04-19T20:58:00.000-05:002002-04-19T21:00:33.000-05:00I have a headache at the moment. That has got to be one of my least favorite sensations. And it isn't even a bad one. It's just a little annoying one. I like the bad ones better, I think. At least you feel justified at being pissed off at it. These, though, just aren't worth your attention, but you can't stop focusing on them. Aggrivation in it's purest form.
I went bowling yesterday. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-755663232002-04-18T19:27:00.000-05:002002-04-18T19:27:04.653-05:00Crap.
Okay, right after that last post, I remembered that we had an old broken microwave in the garage. So, yeah, I got it out and went to work on it with an aluminum lacrosse shaft. But I didn't think they actually used glass in those things. Nobody actually uses glass anymore. Pastic. Plexiglass. Celophane, for God's sake. But glass? It didn't really cross my mind till the thing Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-755652922002-04-18T18:55:00.000-05:002002-04-18T18:55:14.880-05:00Okay, today? Today I'm just pissed off. For no good reason. I wanna break things. But I can't find anything good to break. The closest I got was taking a bb gun, and holding an orange jelly bean up to the barrell opening and firing, and orange jelly bean shrapnel went all over the place. That was cool.
I really want a baseball bat and a few plate glass windows, and paramedics standing byZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-755250682002-04-17T19:04:00.000-05:002002-04-17T19:11:32.000-05:00We have the official list here people. Are you ready for this? The three official things that you can cry because of and nobody will give you shit for it according to my prestigious friend Jeff Allen (Supreme Visual FX Diety for The Matrix movies). Here they are:
1. Death of an immediate family member.
2. Losing a championship. (But for the love of God, don't do it on National TV)
3. Old Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-755220612002-04-17T17:34:00.000-05:002002-04-17T17:35:29.000-05:00My friend Pimp "Mike Ochs" DeMarco, is a funny guy. Go read some of his stuff. It's in the writer's section of art-barn.com, which is a site that's worth checking out, but if you don't feel like navigating through all the cutesy flash stuff they've got going on over there, then you can click on the following links:
A Chance Encounter - about LA's equivalent of the "I Saw U" section.
No Better Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754979072002-04-17T02:53:00.000-05:002002-04-17T02:53:06.760-05:00I swear I just saw a Barbasol Shaving Cream commercial that touted that it came in "seven great flavors." I'm not making this up. I really hope that this is some sort of joke, although it sure didn't seem like it. I really don't want to believe that this tv ad made it past all the people that a tv ad has to get past without at least one person smart enough to say "wait, maybe flavor isn't Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754958042002-04-17T01:09:00.000-05:002002-04-17T01:09:27.823-05:00So, on the way to verbatim rehearsal, I was driving behind this really dirty, boxy, delivery-style truck. And in the dirt, on the back of the truck, in that traditional "wash me" way, and with all caps in a rather eratic handwriting, somebody had freshly written the following:
IT'S ALL MOST HERE
26 DAYS TO GO - 4/17/02
SO WHAT YOU'LL ASK
SO WHAT
SO WHAT
As best I can tell, that's Mother's Day-Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754823082002-04-16T18:29:00.000-05:002002-04-16T18:29:59.276-05:00I was flipping channels and saw Sheryl Crow. Did she get a face lift? She's looking all Greta Van Sustren-y. It's really wrong. Not cool Sheryl. At least she still has the lips still working. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754822302002-04-16T18:27:00.000-05:002002-04-16T18:27:52.616-05:00So, a week ago I posted my picture on hotornot.com. If you are not familiar with this gem of the online world, you realy should be. The gist of the site is this: people, for whatever reason, opt to post pictures of themselves to the site and then people from all over the globe look at it, and anonymously rate it on a scale of 1-10. You can log on and begin rating right now if you like. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754750382002-04-16T15:05:00.000-05:002002-04-16T17:53:14.000-05:00I got my taxes done last night with about a whole hour left to spare. So what does that mean? That's right. I could have started my taxes a whole hour later. Oh well, there's always next year.
God, I love Top ramen. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754365892002-04-15T16:16:00.000-05:002002-04-15T16:16:16.440-05:00Hmmm, April 15th.
2:15 pm.
Time to drive around the city hunting down W-2s.
So I can start my taxes sometime this evening. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754155132002-04-15T02:15:00.000-05:002002-04-15T02:15:13.546-05:00I think I may have forgotten how to meditate. I keep trying, and I just can't relax. I had someone rub my shoulders on Friday, and I couldn't believe how tense I was. I've become high strung. It isn't a good thing. I swear I used to be mellow. I miss it. I wonder if I can find my way back there. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-754153282002-04-15T02:07:00.000-05:002002-04-15T02:07:36.450-05:00If I wasn't sick, I'd blame my strange sleep hours on daylight savings. I can't stand daylight savings. I think we should all be more like arizona and not buy into the whole messing with time thing. It just doesn't seem natural. Not that I don't love daylight at 11 at night, cuz I do. But still. Just leave time alone. I'm against time zones too. They just fuck with me. Some people are Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-753844592002-04-14T04:30:00.000-05:002002-04-14T04:30:03.156-05:00Fever posting. I'm sicky. And can't sleep. Or rather did sleep. And now I can't. I done overspent my sleep. Didn't get to go to Jorgensen Bash this evening. Wanted to. But opted not to. So I could sleep. Which I'm not. So lesson is I shoulda gone. Narf. Gonna try the bed again. Wish me luck. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-753564252002-04-13T04:51:00.000-05:002002-04-13T04:51:32.593-05:00Okay, so Sonya totally ripped me a new one tonight for my neglect of my blog. Which, admittedly, I deserved. But, I dunno, most of the time I feel like I have...what?...a good, blogworthy, idea once a month or so? And so my greatest fear, (as it pertains to my blog), isn't neglecting it, but rather posting laundry lists and general unentertaining bullshit. You all know what I'm talking about.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-753326752002-04-12T13:07:00.000-05:002002-04-12T13:07:03.850-05:00Technology is amazing. They stuck my Mom in a microwave for a while today and then declared her cured of cancer. So that's cool. Technology just gets better and faster and more complicated all the time. It solves lots of stuff.
And it makes lots of problems. For example, if one hypothetically got an email from a girl who was interested in going out sometime, and this girl is known to be aZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-752407522002-04-10T05:32:00.000-05:002002-04-10T05:42:40.000-05:00Blog: Well, La-tee-da...Mr. Stranger man decides he's gonna just waltz his ass in here and start typing like he hasn't been neglecting the site for ever and ever.
Zach: Hey, c'mon, lighten up. I been busy.
Blog: Oh yeah?
Zach: Yeah.
Blog: Doing?...
Zach: Doing?...
Blog: Yes, doing. When somebody says they've been too busy to come and spend the most nominal ammount of creative timeZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-112975872002-03-30T22:00:00.000-06:002002-03-30T22:00:42.450-06:00I think I'm in love with the girl with bubblegum pink hair at the Jiffy-Lube on lake city. Standard black jumpsuit with a navy sweatshirt hood poking out the back. Black wool nightwatchman cap with a logo patch that is clearly cool enough to be beyond my range of recognition. Tire pressure guage and a ratchet stuck in her back pocket. Hot. Hot. And, well, hot. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-110018042002-03-22T02:42:00.000-06:002002-03-22T02:42:52.850-06:00Girls are strange. God love 'em.
Would you care to elaborate on that, Zach?
No. Not really. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-108400082002-03-17T19:00:00.000-06:002002-03-17T19:00:36.086-06:00Sunshine feels so good. And so very foreign. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-107793942002-03-15T17:28:00.000-06:002002-03-15T17:28:38.846-06:00I was once offered a job as a model scout. I turned it down. What the hell was I thinking?Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-107566912002-03-15T02:36:00.000-06:002002-03-15T02:39:38.000-06:00My ego needs some help. I'm not sure why that's the case, but it is. I think it may be a budget issue. Maybe I was given a lifetime supply of ego at birth and just ran through it all too quickly. Cuz god knows I had ego pouring out my friggin ears for large chuks of my lifetime. But now...I get anxious. Uneasy. Nervous. And over dumb things, too. Like girls. And money. And the Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-107156462002-03-13T20:23:00.000-06:002002-03-13T20:23:20.090-06:00So my neighbors accross the street have this sign up in their window. It's an American flag with the words "9-11 -- We still remember" written underneath it. And it isn't that I'm entirely unsympathetic to the sentiments behind such a message, but even so, I just have to say, of course you still remember it you FAWKING IDIOTS! I mean it's not everyday you see a fully loaded passenger jet ram aZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-107029412002-03-13T14:06:00.000-06:002002-03-13T14:06:23.786-06:00Oh, right...I have a blog. I must have forgotten temporarily. It happens sometimes. Why haven't I written in two weeks? Did stuff happen? Was I feeling private? I'm just going to go Enron on your ass and say "you don't get to know." They were blogless days and that's the way they'll stay. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-102548172002-03-01T00:39:00.000-06:002002-03-01T00:39:09.330-06:00This may be the creepiest thing I have read in a long time.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-102431522002-02-28T18:48:00.000-06:002002-02-28T18:48:07.060-06:00Yesterday my Mom got a call from a Funeral Home/Cemetary telemarketer. There's just something wrong about that--the whole selling death thing. And so this telemarketer continues on with my Mom saying, in an ultra serious, brooding, yet sensitive tone that dealing with the death of a loved one is a traumatic experience, and can be all the more complicated if the appropriate planning steps are Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-102043422002-02-27T19:14:00.000-06:002002-02-27T19:14:54.650-06:00I finally have internet connectivity at work. This doesn't bode well for getting actual tasks done. I like it. I like it a lot. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-101792952002-02-27T05:09:00.000-06:002002-02-27T05:09:57.953-06:00I need to stop posting at ungodly hours. Then I might (and I stress MIGHT) be able to remember to, oh, I dunno, hit the post button before I close the browser window?!?
I'm such a hack. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-100990052002-02-25T06:16:00.000-06:002002-02-25T06:18:26.000-06:00What story do you have that you can tell better than anyone else? It doesn't have to be a good story, it just has to be told well. The stories have all been told. Now you just have to go for style points. For effect. For reaction. For results. Try to tap dance, and gnaw on those precious few nerve endings that are still exposed. Because, dammit, it’s been too long since I’ve cried. Or Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-100896022002-02-24T22:30:00.000-06:002002-02-24T22:30:52.716-06:00I think...wait...no, yeah...I've got totally nothing to say at the moment. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-100644782002-02-24T06:21:00.000-06:002002-02-24T06:21:56.133-06:00"The only truly indigenous American inventions are Thanksgiving turkey and fingerfucking."
-- Lyndon Baines Johnson (36th President of the United States)Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-100366712002-02-23T07:27:00.000-06:002002-02-23T07:32:46.000-06:00Holy fawking vulcan crap. Wesley from star trek next gen has a blog. I may have to stop doing this just because of that. I feel dirty. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-100210592002-02-22T18:19:00.000-06:002002-02-22T18:19:07.360-06:00Fawk. It's been a long, long week. I have stuff to write, but i don't wanna yet. Writing is a lot like sword-swallowing. It's hard to do unless you're in the habit of doing it. Actually, I don't know if that's true. I mean, I know it's true for the writing part of it. I just don't know if it's true for the sword-swallowing. It just seems like it should be. I personally haven't rammed a Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-99567372002-02-21T04:04:00.000-06:002002-02-21T04:49:20.000-06:00Okay...I'm on a little self-imposed internet vacation. I've gone a full seven days so far, and I'm just logging on now to explain why I haven't been blogging, and that I will continue to not blog for a few days. The first step in dealing with any addiction is to recognize it. I just needed a break. If you have emailed me, I have not received it yet. If it's important, call me.
Once I Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-97454032002-02-14T22:38:00.000-06:002002-02-14T22:41:58.000-06:00I've decided that Ben Laurence is my valentine.
Congratulations, Ben.
Thank you to everyone that applied.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-97306182002-02-14T14:51:00.000-06:002002-02-14T14:51:46.476-06:00This morning, I went for the Cheerios and got like 6 Os and four or five tablespoons of that dust stuff.
I fawking hate that.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-97135402002-02-14T02:23:00.000-06:002002-02-14T02:23:29.170-06:00Picabo Street is engaged. I'm heartbroken. And right before V-day, too. Sigh. Another one bites the dust.
I just want a chapstick girl, is that so wrong? Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96741092002-02-13T01:28:00.000-06:002002-02-13T01:44:09.000-06:00rohrft. 270 million dead-flutterby-sicles. Sad. Really sad.
But the circle of life continues thanks to Barry White.
Ain't life frickin' bizarre?Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96736762002-02-13T01:06:00.000-06:002002-02-13T01:08:05.000-06:00You ever just hit send on that email a bit too quickly? I just did that. I've got a bad feeling about this one too. Sometimes you get away with a bad email, and sometime it takes a big healthy chunk outa your rump. I've got a hunch this one is the latter.
And it's one of those things that if I try to cover, I think it'll just make it worse. Fawwwwk. When did I get to be such a frigging Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96616392002-02-12T18:38:00.000-06:002002-02-12T18:45:36.000-06:00Okay, when the cute barista girl asks if you would like the 20oz size, YOU SAY NO. I'm caffed up to the point of artificial ADD.
Usually the 20 oz isn't a problem. Nor is multiple 16ozs spread throughout the day. Or even those 12 cups at a diner at 3 in the morning. Or, hell, multiple pots at home on the weekend. But for some reason this stuff is hitting me hard. Armph.
No ability to Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96335222002-02-11T23:58:00.000-06:002002-02-11T23:58:27.036-06:00I just found out that there is some guy named Rear Admiral Stufflebeem protecting our country. Thought you should know.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96320222002-02-11T23:12:00.000-06:002002-02-12T00:12:44.000-06:00So I went to the doctor today for a little check-up/physical thingy, you know, just cuz it's good to do every decade or so. And the first thing the guy tells me is that my insurace doesn't cover physicals anymore. They only cover action taken by a doctor in response to symptoms, which we both agreed was fawking stupid. So then he asks me (in this really leading, head-nodding emphatically whileZ.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96111112002-02-11T11:13:00.000-06:002002-02-11T11:13:40.040-06:00Okay, so this is what kind of day it's going to be.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-96003452002-02-11T01:56:00.000-06:002002-02-11T01:57:36.000-06:00Bonus question: Does it make me a bad person that I kinda want to see "Super Troopers?"Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-95995732002-02-11T01:15:00.000-06:002002-02-11T01:47:20.000-06:00I love you too, Barta.
Few questions for the day:
1. Why aren't there guys gone wild videos?
2. Is teleportation really possible through the entaglement of higher order particles?
3. What time is my doctor's appointment tomorrow?
4. What the hell should I do with my life?
If you have the answer to these, or any other questions, feel free to email them to me.Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-95723312002-02-10T04:50:00.000-06:002002-02-10T04:50:02.380-06:00I wish the olympics didn't suck ass. I mean sure, the arials are damn cool. And back when they used to do the 16 man speedskating where there was a good shance that someone would take a blade in the gut, I'd watch that. But that's about it. I know there's a lot of you out there that will put up a stink about Hockey. Hockey isn't cool. This is a common misconception. When hockey players Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-95412072002-02-09T00:08:00.000-06:002002-02-09T00:08:28.343-06:00I feel better. I attribute my new good mood to a little wine, and a lot of KUBE 93.3 FM (The local hip-hop/r&b station for those outside the broadcast range). For some reason, a little hip-hop, occasionally interspursed with oldies, is the magic medicine. Go figure. Classical is the worst for such moods. Sometimes a little Tool is perfect, but it's kinda hit or miss.
I need a massage. or Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-95260772002-02-08T14:40:00.000-06:002002-02-08T14:40:42.760-06:00Hi, I'm Zach. Remember me?
I've been...i dunno...morose I guess? I don't deal well with it. And it really doesn't translate well to page. I stare at the little Blogger box for a while each day. But nothing comes out. I hope I get angry again soon. Anger makes my little world go round. Not the healthiest approach, I know. But it works. It's practical in the strangest of ways.
BTW, Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-94684162002-02-07T00:23:00.000-06:002002-02-07T00:23:42.740-06:00You know when shit is just wrong, and not just a little wrong, like a lot wrong, and no one in the whole fucking world seems to notice it except you, and you have to pretend nothing is wrong along with them, cuz it's just too much work not too, even though it's draining as fucking hell. Yeah. Okay. That's where I'm at.
I'm gonna go break something. Z.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3303752.post-93570862002-02-04T04:52:00.000-06:002002-02-04T04:54:21.000-06:00I just had the idea that I should start a blog and give team membership to every last one of my ex girlfriends, you know, just to see what happens. xofz.blogspot.com--something like that. I swear, a more masochistic/exhibitionist idea has perhaps never graced my wrinkly grey cerebral lobe. Z.noreply@blogger.com0