Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I want to be a producer

Watching the Kennedy Center Honors this evening, I have decided that I want to get one of those rainbow ribbons pined to my suit jacket. I don't really know how I am going to make that happen yet, but my quest has begun.
I mean, all the greats have received the honor. Beyonce sang to Tina Turner, Idina Menzel sang to Barbara Striesand and tonight, Matthew Broderick sang to Mel Brooks. In order to get it, you have to have made some sort of undeniable contribution to the pop culture landscape in America and I don't mean Kate Gosselin. I mean that I want to make the kind of contribution to the world that warrants that sort of recognition.
It has less to do with being recognized and all of that and more to do with affecting that many people in a positive way. I don't need people to stand and cheer for me. That doesn't really mean anything in the long run. But affecting so many people that the surviving Kennedys and their Center think you should be honored with a rainbow ribbon and sit with the President, well that's something.
So I've now begun my quest. Operation change America and be honored by the Kennedy Center has begun.

Days go by and still I think of you

Dallas was covered in snow again today. That makes the second time in a week that Dallas Texas has been covered in snow. Is this some kind of a record?
It's actually been a rather full day. I ate avocado, got asked if I was a hairdresser, bought silver shoes, spent time in a store where everything was burnt orange. Oh, and I spent time with a friend I haven't seen in 4 years.
So much has gone on in my life since I saw him last. I have transferred schools, graduated once, working on a new degree, have a new group of friends and a new worldview to go with it. I've sang in front of thousands of people, been to every major city in Texas, experienced Christmas in New York, and had my heart broken.
But you know, today, it wasn't as if there were years inbetween seeing each other and as much as change is a good thing, it is refreshing to know that not much has there. If anything, we know more now than we did the last time we saw each other in person.
I know that everyone has those people in their lives and it's so thrilling when it doesn't matter how much things have changed, it's just like picking up where you left off. For me, I have a handful of those people...a large handful. I've been extremely blessed in that arena. I think, when I look back over the decade that was, the most important things that I will take away from it are the people who have made it so dynamic. Well, that and Moulin Rouge.

Monday, December 28, 2009


Perhaps I set myself up to be disappointed. I think I do.
You know, I count on a great many things. Television is easy to count on because it keeps coming on. Perhaps that is why the writer's strike was such a big deal 2 years ago. It took something that people counted on and prevented it. A constant became a variable.
We can count on movies to be there, filmmakers are always in the market for making money. We can count on music to be producing something that they think people will like. There will always be authors writing something fictitious for us to buy into, there will always be conflict for the news to report on and there will always be a God to believe in.
But people. There's something that won't always be there. One day they are, one day they're not.
So I set myself up for disappointment because I rely on people. I'm not completely reliant on others, I mean I enjoy being alone and having that time by myself. But there are times that you really just need someone else and if they don't deliver...disappointment. Much like the disappointment I felt when Wolverine was over. Really? That's the best we could do Marvel? And I love the X-Men movies (save for the stuff that they messed up in the third one) but I was so disappointed in that movie. I usually have to think about movies for a day before I am able to make a judgment call on them but when that movie was over, I remember thinking how disappointed I was in it.
I do forgive those who disappoint me and I even forgave Hugh for Wolverine, but it doesn't change the fact that I was let down. No one likes to feel let down. But, learning from one of the biggest songs of the year that no one will remember a few years from now, 'if it knocks you down you just get back up when it knocks you down.'

Look out.

I think that King Arthur is one of the most underrated movies of the last decade. I've been doing a lot of thinking about this past decade and what was a big deal and what wasn't and what wasn't a big deal was King Arthur and really, it should have been.
There's nothing really wrong with it, but for some reason, people didn't get on board with it. I saw it three times in the theater. There aren't that many movies I can say that about. Moulin Rouge, Anchorman, and King Arthur. I'm sure there are a few others, but it doesn't matter.
Why are some things big deals and others are not?
I guess we can make things big deals when we want to. So many times, we look back on stuff years later and realize that it wasn't that big of a deal at all, but in the moment, it was very important. Example? Jessica Simpson. Who cares about her anymore? No one except her father. She was a very big deal and now, can you think of one reason why? You can't. Look out Rihanna. You're next.
I've got some big deals in my life right now and now I'm over-analyzing them to figure out if they should be big deals or not. That's scary. I'm thinking that about a few people in my life too. Big deals or not. If they're not, then I should probably rethink their involvement in my day-to-day huh? Look out. You could be next.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

I put on my Sunday clothes

So I'm at church and I am blogging. My mother is sitting next to me and probably mad that I am blogging during the sermon. But here is the reason. A son was called out from the pulpit because he was home from the military. Slowly, the crowd rose to their feet. in kind of a physical slow clap, and recognized him for fighting for our country. I realized that he is in the row right behind me so now I am turning and staring as i applaud someone who is doing something that I could never do myself. After the applauding was over, his father told the congregation, with tears in his eyes and a tremble in his voice, that this is the first time in 15 years that his son has been home for Christmas.
You know, I love my family but I see them every year. I got great gifts but after Christmas is over, I have moved onto what I am gonna wear to New Years. But for them, this Christmas will never end for them. The memory of this week will stay with them forever.
The pastor is talking about letting go, about letting go of the past and all of that. He's a nice lookin guy, wearing a vest (mine's better but whatever), and he is talking about letting go. It makes sense. Even if you aren't churchy or anything, 'letting go' makes sense. What does that have to do with the military son? I'm sure his father and mother have let go of 15 years of not having their family for Christmas.
I have things to let go of too. And this year, I am going to work on letting them go and not watching them fly away. I have grudges, I have disappointments, I have desires to watch 24. I have to let those things go.
And I will. (my mother is nudging me and you know, if momma ain't happy...)

Saturday, December 26, 2009

You say that like it's a bad thing

Self-numbing. I'm not talking about alcohol, well, not really. We escape into things don't we? Of course some people choose the liquid numbing agents, some choose those that you can inhale. I choose films.
There's nothing like disappearing into a good film, a new world that doesn't have anything to do with what's going on inside of my life. And let me tell you, I've got things going on upstairs.
But that's alright and I will tell you why. It's the holiday movie season. The best films of the year are coming out and are ready for me to disappear into. I especially love the films that go on to win Oscars, the ones that the general public doesn't usually see. You know the ones. The ones that are labeled "artsy." It's in those films that I am able to think the hardest. Escape the deepest.
Of course I don't like in a land of delusion, I know that this doesn't fix any problem or make things change in real life. But for a few hours, it's okay and I can be challenged to think. And I like that.

Friday, December 25, 2009

My Christmas Story

As I sit here watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story, looking at the heavy blanket of snow that is covering the backyard, seeing the bags from the gifts that we received this evening, Christmas is kinda thrown up all over us. As much as Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, there really isn't anything that compares to Christmas, and each year, I feel like it sneaks up on me and I think to myself, "it feels like just yesterday that we were in Christmastime last year."
I think my heart is heavy this year for a handful of reasons, but that shouldn't matter. I really love spending time with my family and my extended family. I mean, tonight, my aunt whacked my grandmother in the face with a dog toy, I sang "O Holy Night" while my sister played the piano, my father sang a Louis Armstrong inspired "Jingle Bells," my aunt did science experiments, and my cousin did an inappropriate dance to Flo Rida's "Low." And that was just Christmas celebration number one. Who knows what could happen tomorrow.
Tomorrow. We will wake up and there will be snow all over the ground. I don't know that I have ever woken up to snow outside before. I am actually having a white Christmas. That's really poetic and wonderful.
What's also wonderful is at the end of A Christmas Story, when they are in the Chinese food restaurant after their dinner was completely ruined, they are having the best time. It tells us that no matter what goes wrong, all that you need are the people you love and a little optimism. I love that.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Christmas eve

People who live up north take snow for granted. I understand that it becomes a burden and after the first snow, it can be obnoxious to have to deal with it on a daily basis. But for we southerners, snow is really a spectacular sight.
In Texas, we don't so much get the snow. Well, the Dallas area doesn't so much get the snow. I mean, I remember one year that it iced over and we all thought it was snow, but it wasn't. It was ice.
But today, on Christmas Eve, it is snowing in Dallas. It's coming down on us and it's beautiful. I realize that this is a white Christmas. It probably won't stick or anything, but it's really beautiful to look at. We will just forget the fact that we keep hearing ambulance sirens in the distance.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Mr. Independent

I used to not be a very independent person. I was dependent on other people and when I wasn't around them, I didn't function very well. I feel like there is a point in most teenagers' lives when they figure out how important friends are and they figure out the opposing concepts of needing people and being needed.
As we grow older, we are trying to find the balance between the two. Some people tilt on one side or the other, but the point is to land somewhere in the middle.
Over the past few years, I've figured out where that middle is for me. While I love my people and I love having them around me, I've learned how important it is that I spend time alone.
I think it started when I lived in New York. I remember the first night I was there, I've never felt so alone. I stood on the roof of the building, listening to Times Square and thinking that I was this tiny person in this enormous world. Of course that changed as the summer went on. I made friends but I also learned the importance of being alone. I would take long walks through Times Square by myself, people watching, soaking up the atmosphere, and thinking. It changed me. I like my alone time now. Just me and a movie. Or just me and some music. I don't need to be needed all the time anymore. That's no way to live life.
Yes. I understand that this sounds like the the moral story of a Boxcar Children book, but it doesn't make it any less true.
It's okay to be alone. It's okay to not be needed all the time. How better to learn about yourself than to spend time with you? Now Now this sounds like the end of a Reading Rainbow episode.
I won't go on any further with it for fear of turning into an after school special from the 80s.

Rollin with the homies

I'm shocked at how upset and saddened I am by hearing about Brittany Murphy's death this morning. I mean, I read about it on people.com and I immediately started searching other websites to find out if it was true. Finally, msnbc said it was.
I know this isn't anything like the day that Michael Jackson died. He is an icon and she' s not. But my generation did kinda grow up with her. She was never the biggest deal in the world and she wasn't any sort of superstar, but I mean, she was in Clueless.
Clueless. THE movie that defined the 90s. Never was there a better representation of the dynamic culture of the decade than in the film Clueless. The acting's not great but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because of the insane clothing and the hyper-representation of culture. And there she was. The chubby homely girl who got in with the in-crowd and found happiness despite it. That was before she was the normal looking pretty girl, followed by the super-skinny mummy-looking girl, and before she became the eccentric crazy girl that dated Ashton Kutcher.
Look, I don't know what she was like as a person or anything. She might have sucked as a human being. But what I do know is that she left us Clueless and that is a good place to leave us in. I will probably watch that film today, as my personal tribute to an actress in the most defining film of my favorite decade. That and I love when Cher says she's riding the crimson wave and had to haul ass to the ladies.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Ya look good.

There's a Golden Girls marathon on today. I'm there.
So Dorothy tells Stan to come back because she'll need someone to fasten her pearls.
He smiles and asks, "The ones I gave ya?"
She smiles and replies, "No. The real ones."
Cut to laugh track.

It got me thinking. If she had fake pearls, no one would know that they were fake if she chose to wear them. I guess the same thing goes for purses and shoes I guess, depending on how good the fake is. So if it looks the same and people can't tell the difference, then why spend the money on getting the real thing.
But it dawned on me. Last year, I was performing and I was wearing Michael Kors. Not a knock off, but the real thing. And I felt great about myself. It was a psuedo-running joke that I was wearing the Michael Kors, but in reality, it made me feel better about myself because I was. No one in the audience knew. It wasn't like I was wearing a blinking sign that said "He's wearing Michael Kors! Look at him! Project Runway!" But I felt great about me.
That's what fashion is about really. Really, it's about making people feel good about themselves. And I know this is true because I've watched The September Issue. Anna Wintour might be a scary figure in the world, but she knows what people want to wear to feel good.
This of course is all coupled with the fact that I am working on putting together my New Years outfit and I plan to be especially bangin looking. Why? Not because I am trying to impress those in attendance at the gala. Not to impress my best friends (God knows I'm not impressive to them). No. I do it to impress myself. To feel great about looking great. We do things to make ourselves feel great.
This is much like in You've Got Mail. When you order your coffee in the morning.
"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self."
We all need that definition of self sometimes. It wouldn't hurt to look great while obtaining the definition.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Frosty the slowman

In watching the old Frosty the Snowman cartoon, I am instantly reminded of the many days of my childhood that I watched this VHS tape, recorded by my parents in the 80s. It's always fun to watch things that you loved as a kid once you are considerably older because the experience is one part nostalgia and one part realizations. Realizations that you are much older and you aren't five anymore. Well, there are other realizations as well.
The first being that Frosty was a little slow on the intake. Sure. He was new. New and slow.
The second being that the rabbit was not only extremely bossy, but a little drunk. I'm all for being expressive, but seriously. Stop thumping. Disney cornered the market on the thumping rabbits, don't try. And pissed off rabbits aren't cute.
Then there's the blonde girl in the short skirt with the daddy complex that would jump on a train to the north pole just to spend time with someone who showed an interest. Bar the fact that they just met. And that he's made of snow. And slow. Can I ask where her parents are? This isn't Gossip Girl where they can just take off to Paris when they want to. She's an elementary school aged girl, thousands of miles from home, who now has post-traumatic-stress because she watched her giant snowman friend melt into oblivion. I mean, think about how emotionally crippled that girl will be.
Then, when Santa saves the day, not even he could bring Frosty back with any brains. Frosty was a lost cause. Sure, bring happiness to whoever you want, but he was as dumb as the rocks that made up his mouth.
Alas - I do love watching the old movies that I watched when I was a kid. They fill me with insight now. And I also love the fact that the squirrels knew how to start a fire. I always knew they were the favored of all God's creatures.

My avatar

Have you ever wanted to be someone else? Maybe not be someone else, but be able to do what they can do? Or have some sort of ability that you don't normally have? I think we all have been there.
I guess that's what Avatar makes you think about. Besides the fact that the film is completely stellar, it made me think about that. There's the guy who can't use his legs anymore and really, as this avatar of an alien, he can do all sorts of things again. It's really interesting to think about, if I had an avatar, what would I want to be able to do that I can't do now.
Maybe be an Olympic gymnast? I've always wanted to do that. Or an Olympic figure skater. Pretty much anything Olympics except for the bodybuilders who look gross. It's everyone's dream to be an Olympian.
I think that might be it. I've never really thought anything else was outside of the realm of possibility in my life. Either that or I never wanted to do it in the first place. But it just made me think. If you could have the ability to do something you wouldn't normally be able to do, what would that be?

Thursday, December 17, 2009

A new day...

What a difference a day can make. Have you ever thought about that? We get a whole new chance every 24 hours to start over. I know that's a really glass-half-full attitude to have about things in the face of incredible amounts of real world that gets thrown at me on a daily basis, but still.
Yesterday, I might have been seething with anger and today, for whatever reason, I can be as happy as a bluebird in a birdbath on a summer's day. One minute you can be as content as a person can be and the next you could be in the throws of an all out emotional breakdown. For some people, it's the night's sleep that helps reset their minds and adjust their attitudes but I really think for me, it's the 24 hour mark. The sleeping helps but it doesn't do for me what listening to loud music and watching escapist television will do for altering my state of mind. Or I guess I could do what my neighbors do and just get high every day. That seems to work for them. There's never anything wrong with them. Well, once there was some sort of a fight going on but during the fight there was mention of the fact that they had "been clean for like three days man." Right.
What a difference a day makes. And it's funny what can turn a person around. A song, an email, a text, a kind word, a pat on the back, a hug, anything really. What was it for me today? That doesn't really matter. It just matters that today was a new day and tomorrow? Another new day. One day closer to Christmas even. And I'm not so delusional to think that every day is going to be great and perfect. But I do know that things will keep rolling and if it gets worse, then it will roll around and get better eventually. And I'm not afraid of the roll around because "tomorrow's another day, and I am not afraid, so bring on the rain."

Still Chuck

Is there a better feeling in the world than catching up on television that you haven't had time to watch? I don't know that there is. Well, when you love television as much as I do, there isn't a better feeling.
It's like I am catching up with my friends on the Upper East Side, a Modern Family, a bunch of people in a Community college, some really Mad Men and even a Cougar and a serial killer. I mean, there are so many really great things going on inside my television right now. You know I spent the summer watching shows and getting all kinds of caught up on things that needed to be watched. Well, now that the semester is over, I am doing the same thing again. And that is completely okay. Why should I be sitting around doing nothing when I could be letting fictitious characters into my life?
Especially when I am less than thrilled with some of the actual characters in my life. You know that I spent a huge portion of my semester studying a form of communication that interprets life as a stage and the people in it as characters. I already viewed life like that. I'm not thrilled with a couple people who are on my stage right now and while I don't have any intention of pushing them into the orchestra pit, I need them to stay in the wings and in the dark.
I love them. I do. But I need to be away from them right now.
Love is interesting. I thought I was in love. Not with whom I speak of above. But elsewhere. I mean, maybe I did? I watched this show on Discovery Health about what goes on in our bodies during sex and stuff. It was actually really interesting. On the show, the homely scientist woman said that romantic love has all of the chemical reactions in your head as addiction. Did you know that? So, if that's the case, then I think I had a problem. Really, I'm just messing with the definition. I wasn't in love. It was just addiction. One in which my fever just broke from this week I think. Except it was broken for me.
And now this blog makes absolutely no sense at all.
And is it said that the only thing I have learned thus far is that the 3rd person is always supposed to be a stranger? And that Chuck Bass is still the coolest guy on TV.
I'm done for today.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Golden Glee flee flar

I love Golden Globe day. I wake up and once I remember that it's the day (I'm groggy when I first get up), then I race to my laptop to check the list. It's so exciting to read about all of the movies and television. Especially this year when I have seen/will see/currently watch most of the shows and films that are nominated.
How delicious is it that Glee got more nominations than any of the other television shows? I mean really.
Here's my deal with Glee. I like this show. I like it a lot. But I have issues with it. It's not with the music - well mostly not with the music. There have been some really awful renditions and mash-ups on this show. I mean, really really awful. But that isn't where the issue lies.
My issue lies with the fact that this show doesn't know what it's doing. The asinine plots should be sub plots that resolve themselves within the hour. The deeper issues that they treat as sub-plots should be explored deeper as the main plots.
I know you are waiting for an example. The clearest one would be the teacher's wife pretending to be pregnant by using a plush pad on her stomach. This plot line offended me so greatly that it was painful for me to watch it play out. I mean, soap operas don't even go there because its that unbelievable...even for them. I can't begin to convey my sense of relief when it came out as a hoax. It was like a dam burst inside of me and I was finally able to make peace with the fact that I had invested so many hours of my life into this show. Because finally, it was in the realm of the normal, if only a little more.
So I'm thrilled for Glee and I'm thrilled that it's finally okay with me that I like this show. I've come to peace. Inner peace.
Oh. And I'm watching Modern Family now. I'm on episode 4. I started a couple hours ago. Right. I'm addicted. Crap.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Why I hate This Christmas

If you've been reading this for very long, you know that I love Christmas music. I listen to it year round. Really. I do. Well maybe not in January. But come February, I'm back on the Christmas music. But can I tell you? I hate the song "This Christmas."
I hate the song "This Christmas" more than I hate crime, poverty, or injustice. I mean, I really hate this song.
You wanna know what I think? I think that some record label has the rights to this song and they are making artists put it on their Christmas albums so they can create a new Christmas standard. But what they didn't take into account was the fact that I hate this song. Someone should have let them know.
Because now, here we are, the song is everywhere, and it makes me mad. It makes me mad because I don't like it. It makes me mad because I know all the words. It makes me mad because other people like it.
And I hate it. And I still stand my ground. I would actually go as far as to say that Santa doesn't like that song either, and Santa likes everyone. Even the kids that suck at life get coal. Sure, it's not great but it's something. If he didn't care at all, why would he waste the coal? Right? Right.
So this Christmas, Santa and I are done with this song.

I like it.

I've always been a pyro but I just realized this morning that I like playing with fire.
When I was younger...yeah that's it...younger, I would play with the matches and the candles, making them melt down the way I wanted them to. I never really had the desire to melt down other things, but candles were my object of choice. I still have candles everywhere, but I don't play with them anymore.
Though I figured out this morning that I still play with fire. And I like it.
There is something exciting about playing with something that you know can hurt you. It's exhilarating actually. I think this is because the hurt could only come after the bright light comes. I mean, first, it explodes and is hot and bright, its not til after that does the fire burn. So while it may be an exercise in futility to play with the bright and hot and not expect to get burned, we still do it. I still do it.
Because it's exhilarating. And I'm a fan of that feeling. I let it fog up my mind and put the brakes on my better judgment. I recognize that I do that and it isn't done to me. It's all me. I've made my peace with that, you should too.
Bring on the hot and bright.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Julie, Julia, and me

Okay. I've finally seen it. I finally saw Julie and Julia. I don't know why I never saw it in the theaters, I guess I just never had the time to go, but I've seen it now. It's a movie about writing, cooking, and sex. I don't know that there has ever been a more perfect for me. I mean, really.
And I'm sitting there watching it going "I write blogs. Why don't I have a book deal?" Of course that's wildly self-indulgent and one of those reaching-for-the-stars moments that don't happen to regular people...unless you're Julie. Then I guess it did. But she was a writer before the blog. So was I. Interesting.
She had a theme for her year and she blogged about it all the time. Granted, that was seven years ago and blogging wasn't what it is now. Now it's so easy for anyone to blog and there are so many out there, I don't know how anyone can keep up with any of them. But I suppose it does happen. I mean, Perez came from someplace right? He didn't always have that many million hits a day. I do read his site. I know. I'm shameful. But I'll tell you that I just scan down and don't read much of it. Not that it matters, I still go there.
They both have an angle though. I don't know that I have an angle. I'm just telling my story as it happens. Sometimes, it's not as thrilling as other times. I know that. But it's life and sometimes life is boring.
But I hope I bring a little breather into the boring days of your life, whoever you are. Writing my thoughts, sharing my inappropriate stories, telling tales out of school, and uncovering things about myself that should have stayed hidden brings me joy, and while I don't know who reads this, I hope I do something that makes you happy.
And if you know any publishers, I'm working on the book about my life and I would love to publish it. You think I've been blogging my thoughts? Just wait. I've been journaling on paper for 10 years. High school drama? Check. Growing pains? Check. Painful truths? Oh so many.
Seriously. Book deal. It's my life goal. If you know anyone...

Friday, December 11, 2009

Clambake, gonna have a clambake

Are clams actually happy?
This of course assumes that you have heard the statement, "Happy as a clam."
Are they actually happy? Has there been genetic research to prove that a) clams have emotions and b) they are perpetually in a state of happiness to warrant such an all encompassing statement to be said, using them as a reference.
I take issue with this.
Apart from unfair treatment of the clams' emotions, I don't really want to be compared to a clam. Have you ever seen one? Not attractive.
I know these are profound thoughts, much deeper than you are used to. But I knew I had to share.
You're welcome.

Sunday, December 6, 2009


I'm a big fan of honesty. I support it.
I think it should be employed more than it is. Here's why.
I've got this friend. A good friend. We've been good friends for a few years. And this friend is full of lies.
I said it.
Full. Of. Lies. And it's become obnoxious. Well, it's been obnoxious for a really long time, but now, it's reached a fever pitch of obnoxiouty. (Yes. I made that a word.)
So what do I do? Of course, in this situation, you would hope that I would just be myself and tell it like it is, speaking my mind with reckless abandon, saying exactly what everyone is thinking but is too afraid to say. But I haven't done that and I don't know that I am going to get a chance to.
So I stand irritated. Unable to change the current situation, frustrated because I can't help fix it, and a little disappointed in myself for sticking with this friend through all the crap I've been put through. But at the end of the day, I've been there. Standing there with love. Being a good person and an even better friend. FML.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The onion.

You don't know how much you use something until you can't use it anymore.
Yesterday, I stood up from my chair and a nerve in my back pinched for some reason - sending shooting pains all through my back and legs. It's been a really terrible 24 hours full of more prolonged pain than I think I've ever felt. I mean, the sounds that I made every time I had to move...my poor neighbors had to either think I was dying or very vocal sex. It's the truth. Don't judge. Thank God for Bayer Back Pain aspirin, swooping in and saving the day for me and making it manageable.
But that's not the point. I didn't really how much I used my lower back until it hurt to move it at all. This is why so many people have back problems, because you use it for absolutely everything.
I guess it goes back to that old adage that you don't know what you've got til it's gone. I mean, there's a lotta layers to that statement. A lotta layers to that onion.
The onion. The symbol of this school year. Need a reason to cry? Hold an onion and no one can say anything. An explanation for being complicated and neurotic? Be an onion, so many layers.
I miss yesterday morning when my back was fine. But without this, I would be without my new found respect for my lower back. I'm like Scrooge, a changed man, honoring and keeping my lower back in my heart every day of the year. God bless us, everyone.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Courtney Cox

I'm always surprised by the surprise of December. I don't think anyone ever sees it coming. Despite the Thanksgiving craziness and all of that, somehow, when the calendar changes and it's officially December, it comes as some sort of shock.
I always find myself thinking ahead in December, more so than other months. Even more that I think ahead in January. I think that by the time that January comes around, I've already started a new thing, or at least, I have the feeling that I've started a new thing at that point. But in December, I feel like I am preparing to start that new thing.
Not that I know what that new thing is this year. No. I have no clue or concept. Last year, I was finally finishing my undergrad and starting grad school. There was a lot new that was happening there. But this time around, there isn't so much that is changing for me, at least I don't think there is. But I can see other things on the horizon line that will be quite the change.
There's a concert coming up at some point, I can see the London skyline, and a little further out I can see the Empire State Building. All of which is terrifying and exciting at the same time.
I think this feeling has been compounded by my lack of "for sures" right now. There's a lot in the air and as much as that's okay, I would rather everything be nailed down.
I'm very Monica when it comes to planning. I need the plan, I need to know, and I need to have a hand (or two) in what's going on. I like cleaning too. The end result is so gratifying.
Speaking of Courtney Cox characters, Cougar Town was really funny this last week. The Thanksgiving episode was about as accurate of an episode as I have ever seen as far as depicting my group of friends. It was my favorite episode I've seen up to this point by far.
Sidetracks aside, it's December, and that means the future is coming. And I think that's exciting. And scary. But more exciting than scary. Maybe.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

You're sorta beautiful

I know that a lot has been written about the Twilight series and that's fine.
I just have such issues with it. Well, I had issues with it and now I have such issues with it.
Look. I get it. There is a hot boy, an odd looking boy, and a normal looking girl who has fallen in love. Fine. I don't have a problem with that. I don't have a problem with the vampire part either. I love me some True Blood.
It was the scene where she was screaming like she was pushing out twins and pumping her fist into her pillow. That is the epicenter of my such issues. That, of course, followed all of the "I can't live without you," "I'm nothing without you," jibberish.
Bella is, in my opinion, one of the worst female role models that I have ever seen. Ever. As I watch the movie, I read her thought bubble and you know what it said? It said, "I am nothing by myself, I amount to nothing, I can not make it without the vampire who looked better in Harry Potter, I know that I should be with the werewolf with the bad weave but I don't care because I am nothing without my man." Now I don't care for feminism that much, but I do care for equality and self awareness, of which she has none. Actually, she thinks she is self aware. Self aware of the fact that she is nothing without the brooding vamp. Every voice over is about how she is nothing.
I have issues with what that is instilling into the millions of young girls who are literally flipping their s**t over this franchise. Is this what you want to be? Unable to function if you don't have the guy you want? Acting as reckless as possible in hopes that he will notice you, save you, and then love you?
And then there's her off screen persona that is just so endearing. "I don't want my picture taken. I don't like the paparazzi. Leave me alone. I'm an actor not a celebrity. Wah." It's all so obnoxious. I don't think she's a bad actress at all. But the character's potential affect on generations of people makes me want to collapse in on myself like a dying star.
Oh. She's screaming into the pillow again. Congrats. Triplets.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

My body pillow.

So I just watched 2012...I know...and it's left me with some questions. Not with the film really, though there were a few characters that died that weren't necessary at all, but with the concept.
See, they all board these vessels and they are going to repopulate the planet basically. With them, they take all kinds of animals and priceless art because the planet is going to be destroyed.
That got me thinking. If I was leaving the planet behind, and I could take a few things with me, what would I want to take with me to remember Earth by? (people excluded)
I started to create a list in my head of what I would bring but I didn't actually think that people would find it interesting. But I mean it included my journals, my iPod, about 10 DVDs, and my laptop full of pictures. Maybe my body pillow too. I have issues sleeping without it really.
Body pillows are such a strange thing aren't they? They're so inappropriate if you think about them. What began as a replacement for another person to wrap your arms around has turned into this Walmart branded, multicolored, cushy "pillow" to add to the mixture of pillows on our beds. Of course I can't do without mine. I could tell you to read that a certain way but I know that you will read it however way you want to. That's fine.
Oh. I'd bring a hat with me. No one likes a bad hair day.

Friday, November 27, 2009

I can't go any further than this

I am so frustrated. I mean, I really really am.
How long does something stupid have to go on before it's time for you to say what you actually think about it?
For example. Lost. Season 2. Not the best season of television. How long did it have to go on before the writers got the hint and fixed it?
Another example. When your friend is being an absolute idiot and you don't say anything about it because you are afraid of what their reaction will be. So you keep quiet until you finally burst at the most inappropriate, inopportune moment. The counter argument to this statement is that if your friendship is actually that good, then you should be able to tell the truth. Right? I mean, it makes sense on paper and at some point, it makes sense in real life.
You know, Jim told everyone that Pam was pregnant, which was going to come out somehow anyways, he just did it at the wrong time and in the wrong way. But it did need to be said and it was better that it was said out loud. No more secrets.
So do I tell them? Do I tell them what I actually feel about this, risking being shunned and pushed to the side and hurt? I don't know. I really don't know. I mean, I wish they would meet me half way...right at the borderline... and talk about what isn't being talked about. But no. It's not brought up because it will be awkward.
So I sit, irritated by the whole thing, knowing that there isn't much that I can do about it, and that's that. Stuck. But what I really want to say is this:

Hello, is it me you're looking for?
'Cause I wonder where you are
And I wonder what you do
Are you somewhere feeling lonely or is someone loving you?
Tell me how to win your heart
For I haven't got a clue
But let me start by saying ... I love you

(I've been in a total Lionel Ritchie mood all day. It goes back to my childhood and this song was used in a Disney animated special that aired at some point. It's the same special that ingrained "Must be Talkin to an Angel" by the Eurythmics in my life. I was reminded about this song today and it's been on my mind. I thought it summed things up quite nicely, and by that, I mean that it has nothing to do with anything at all except it makes me feel better, which is the point.)

Hello Dorry.

You know in The Empire Strikes Back, when Han Solo slices open the stomach of the Tomtom and all its guts spill out? Right. That's where I am at now.
Picture it. I'm the Tomtom. Slice. Spill. Guts.
I'm having an issue as of late and it's consuming my thoughts. I'm not one hundred percent sure what to do about this and that's mostly because it has less to do with me and more to do with another person. The plot thickens.
See, the worst types of problems are those that involve other people as principal characters. When it's just you, there are all sorts of options on how to take care and resolve what's going on inside of you. There are shrinks, there are friends, there are friends that think they're shrinks, there's booze, there are acts of self discovery...there are numerous ways when it only involves you.
But when it involves another person, it's like that scene in Quantum of Solace where they are at the opera and one little thing said sets all of those people into motion and they scatter. It's messy and one thing could trigger another and so on and so on and the thought of it is too terrifying to fully conceptualize.
So I'm stewing in my own issues at the moment, swimming in a sea of uncertainty, watching new films in an attempt to land on some tidbit of fabricated truth that I can adhere to until this moment of murky maneuvering has passed.
Just keep swimming...just keep swimming...

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

It's not that good

I went to get dinner tonight, much like i do every night. Being Tuesday, I went to this taco place that has cheap deals on Tuesdays. Right. That was the plan at least. I pull up to the restaurant, expecting to get it to-go and I see that the line of cars is so long, its pouring into the street. I meant it. we are looking at a line of cars 15 to 20 deep. So I decide to go inside, no big deal. I park. I get out of the car. I then see that the line is pouring out of the door. What? It's not even that good!
So here's to you Waco. I judge you. It's not even that good and the chicken I got instead was probably better. And, I got a new scarf tonight and with it, a new outlook.
So me, my chicken, my scarf, and my outlook wins tonight. Take that Taco Tuesday.

Monday, November 2, 2009

My life is better than yours

I said it.
I've been stalking people on Facebook and looking through their pictures, trying to gather who they are. After all, that's why we put pictures on there isn't it? So that people will see them and get a glimpse into who we are and what we do.
After looking at countless people's pictures, cool people and lame people, pretty people and unfortunate people, married people and single people, young people and old people...and judging them appropriately for their inappropriateness...I came to a conclusion. My life is pretty awesome.
Whoa. Calm down. I'm not saying that your life isn't great. I mean, I might be. If you're one of those people whose pictures I looked through, then yes, I am saying that your life isn't great. Here's why.
When I look back through my pictures, I am floored by everything that we do. I say we because most things in my life involve a form of "we." And we sure do a lot. And we have a stellar time doing it. And our events are varied.
You know, people have made verbal comment to us about how when we post pictures of our outings, they love it because we are so much fun. Well, I realized tonight that they are, in fact, very correct.
I have a great life. I don't know what I'm going to be doing a year from now, I don't know how I am going to pay off my school loans that are creeping up around my neck to try to strangle the life out of me, I don't know what the future is going to have for me and my camp, but for right now, things are pretty stellar and there doesn't seem to be any sign of it stopping.
There was a moment last night on Brothers and Sisters, my favorite show on television, where the entire extended family were all calling each other and were all on phones at the same time talking to each other passing around the exciting news. (You really had to see it to get it. It was wonderful. Just as wonderful as when Will, Grace, Jack, Karen, and the tranny all talk on the phones at the same time at the beginning of that Thanksgiving episode. It's my favorite opening of a show.) I just could see me and my camp in that situation doing the exact same thing, and it was exciting. I love the excitement.
And that's how I live my life. On the edge of excitement, just waiting to fall into it. Which is exactly why my life, more than likely, is more exciting than those people whose Facebooks I ransacked.
Sorry guys. Truth is still truth.

Saturday, October 31, 2009


The thing that I've been working on since July ended tonight. It went better than I ever would have imagined that it would go and it proved a great many things to me that I was unsure about in my life.
Not that what happened was the great defining moment in my life or anything, but it did prove that I can do the things that I set out to do.
Which brings me to what I have decided is the theme of the 2009-2010 year, proving that I can do things that I have never done before. The first of those things was a musical arrangement that I did that worked...proving that I could. The second was this photo shoot tonight, proving that I can both be Rachel Zoe and a get 40 people in costumes and makeup to look good for a picture that's been in the works since July. Right. It's pretty much November. 4 months of planning. And it worked...proving that I could do it.
This isn't an ego thing. Not in the slightest. I don't think I am so great because I was able to do these things. There are more things on my to-do list for this season of my life that I hope I am able to do. But it won't make my head bigger. It's just so reassuring to know that when I set my mind to something big, I was able to get it done.
And that feels great.
Granted, the adrenaline that I've been running on is now completely drained and I am headed for such a crash. But man, it will be such a good crash. Sleep would be perfection.
Life's good. I've got good people in it. The gang is still there, and I've got a new friend or two that make my life interesting again and fun. I think that's necessary. So is getting things done. That's necessary as well. So is watching Will and Grace. That is necessary because I feel like I haven't in so many months and perhaps my witty isn't on the top of its game because I don't have Karen in my ear.
OH! Speaking of Karen - I aided in getting a girl fired the other day! Right. That happened and she no longer is employed by the great establishment of Chili's. That was also necessary.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

6. Again.

You know, I went through a time in my life when I firmly believed that there was a purpose for different people being a part of my life. I don't know it was just the ideology that I adhered to at the time to make myself feel like the happenings of my life would transcend the situation I was in or something, but I knew that people were in my life for a purpose.
That person never left me. I'm still that guy. I still believe that the people that I invite into the inner depths that are Ryan are taking up residence in there for a reason. Maybe I don't know at the time, but eventually, I figure that I will find out.
But here's the kicker. When it becomes a reality and you can see the purpose, that's the kicker. And it kicks you in the tail and you don't really know what to do at that point. How did I know that? How did I know that it would be so vitally important later? I don't know. But it's so important that I can't even begin to describe.
6 has been a number that has come up time and time again in my life. Recently, it's been a bigger part. Well today, I was able to add another 6 to that list of sixes. It took 6 years. Doesn't really matter for what, but it did. And that is extremely fulfilling. Just when I see one of the 6s in my life being tattered and crumbling, I'm given a new 6 to cling to and know that it's important. That's reason to wake up again tomorrow and have hope.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Secrets secrets don't make friends.
That's true.
I think.
Maybe it's not.
Maybe we keep secrets sometimes so we can keep those friends.
Like, if you know someone is interested in you but you are kinda seeing someone else, you don't say anything so that feelings don't get hurt. Or if you know something about a person that you know they don't want you to know, so you keep your mouth shut so you don't make it awkward. Or if you are kinda seeing two different people and you don't want them to find out...wait. That's not relevant. That's Pheobe dating the well built firefighter and the well built teacher at the same time. That's moderately whorish...
I think we keep secrets sometimes because we are scared of what would happen between us if the other person either found out or found out that we knew. Then our whole nighttime soap storyline blows up and we don't exactly know where the next episode will land. That's why shows like Desperate Housewives and Brothers and Sisters are so popular, because we have all been there. Maybe we haven't been covered in someone's dead husbands ashes, but we have been in the relationship fights due to the backlash of secrets.
Secrets. Scary things. But we keep them and we always will.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Another wedding story

I don't understand something.
I don't have a twitter, mostly because I don't need one. But I do read people's facebook status' when they show up on my feed and I find that generally amusing. Well, there is this girl, we are all friends with this girl. You, I, we all are. We knew each other years ago and she found me on facebook and now we are "friends" again. Honestly, I am just waiting an ample amount of time before I de-friend her and void her out of my digital existence. But that's neither here nor there.
She just got married on Saturday. Congrats. I'm happy you found someone (because for a while there...). But I have issues with you. And the new husband.
Here's the problem. After the wedding, she immediately changed her facebook profile and status. Now, that's normal to do perhaps the day after, maybe after the honeymoon. No. Within hours, she was on facebook, changing it, almost as if the only reason she wed was to be able to change her status. Shouldn't she have been staring into her new husband's eyes? Shouldn't she have been at a reception eating cake? Shouldn't she have been in the throws of releasing years of pent up pentacostal sexual tension?
But no. She was on facebook. So people start commenting on her status. There isn't anything really strange about that. Except that she is responding. She's responding on facebook when she should be in the throws.
Fine. It's now Tuesday. I get on facebook this morning and there she is, eating up my status updates, with absolutely everything that she is doing...on her honeymoon. Here's the deal. The reason that you go on a honeymoon is to be alone, away from everyone else, so you can do nothing but swim and sex, eat and sex, sightsee and sex. We all know that. I'm not saying anything that anyone doesn't already know. But no. We are getting updates every few hours about the restaurant, ("the most amazing food ever), the town ("so cute"), and where they are headed next, as if she doesn't really trust the husband yet and just in case she pulls a Natalie Holloway, someone will know where she is.
I understand that this is all very crass but I am upset. If you are going to wait all your life to find "the one," and then spend all that money on a wedding and honeymoon, then please, spend it with the one person that you are meant to spend it with. Not all of facebook so it can be commented on, and then responded to by you when you should be, again, in the throws.
Congrats on the wedding. Divorce facebook til the honeymoon's over.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

God loves ugly

I spent half an hour this morning looking for a parking spot, prowling like a cougar to pounce on any innocent Jetta or Saab that might back out of a spot. Did I find one? Of course not.
But I did find it odd that the people who wore ugly clothes and who were, themselves, not so attractive, did find spots, but I, impeccably dressed from a photo shoot this morning, could not. Maybe it's because they needed it more? Their self esteem just needed the extra push? I don't know. My self esteem is fine today so that's alright. I just took my lack of parking space as a sign to go home and do homework. Work-work can wait a bit.
But now I have to go and attack it all again and hope that I can find the space this time around to park. If not, I'm running down one of those uglies.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

The Mask

I always find it interesting the way life works. Just when I am in a place where I am making some decisions that might not be the best for my life or my future, I get a phone call from someone who is at the exact same place, if not further.
I'm sorry. What? How does that happen? How have I not talked to you in so long and then all of the sudden, here we are, in the same place [metaphorically speaking (The Mask anyone?)] and it's very clear why we have each other.
I know this is vague, it's not supposed to be clear. I guess I'm trying to tell you that if you believe in God and the way that He does things, it should come as no surprise that He would bring you together to lean on each other. If you believe in fate, the same general rules apply here. If you believe in Buddha, well, I don't really know how this applies, but I'm sure it does.
I will leave it at this:
Our lives are nothing without the relationships that compose us and that composition is a forever changing work of art.
No matter what masks we might wear to cover certain things up, try to conceal, or turn us into a conga dancing fool that kisses cops...in the end, the only thing that matters are the relationships. And that isn't worth throwing away for anything.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

5th time's the charm

It's no new news to anyone who has read this throughout the summer. I love television. And I spent the summer watching more TV than I think I can honestly remember.
Recap? Glad you asked.
Five seasons of the Office, three of 30 Rock, two of Dexter, two of Lost, two of Mad Men, the new season of True Blood, the new season of Hung, So You Think You Can Dance, and five of Weeds.
Which brings me to Weeds. Let me tell you this. I haven't really been on that bandwagon. I mean, I've been watching it and its alright, but it's not a comedy. And I haven't thought that it was particularly witty either.
But I've stuck with it because I've been following the story. So last night, the season finale aired of season 5. So I've been watching a great many episodes. I will tell you this. It wasn't until the final 30 seconds of the last episode of the fifth season that I learned to love this show.
The point of this story is that sometimes, it just takes time. You have to stick with it. You have to break up for a time and say that you won't ever do it again. And you give in and it's rough for season 4 or when the subplots concerning your favorite character aren't the greatest. But you hold out because you know that at some point, someone is going to be killed by a croquet stick.
That's what I am talking about! Holding on until you get what you know you should have.
The more you know...and shooting star.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

The doctor said...

"I meant what I said and I said what I meant
An elephant's faithful one hundred percent."

Horton was onto something here. I mean, saying what you mean isn't always what we do. So many times, we hold it inside and don't speak up. I try not to be that person and the people around me know that. They stick with me anyways, for reasons beyond my comprehension, but they do.
But there are things that even I don't say. Why don't I? Why don't I speak up when my feelings are really hurt? Why don't I just tell them that they weren't that great in that moment? Why don't I just say what I am actually thinking?
Common sense really. If we said everything that we meant, we wouldn't have any friends now would we? There's a niche for that outspoken/tell-it-like-it-is person but at some point, compassion has to set in. Compassion for other people's feelings. There's only so much Karen Walker that a person can be before they have to reel it back in.

You know, Dr. Seuss also said this:
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
So maybe I should just let it go and say what I mean anyways? I mean, the man is pretty wisdomous. Hop on Pop? Cat in the Hat? The Sneetches? Maybe I should listen.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Not sandals.

It's funny to me how people care but then don't. How people can be so "there" and then be the exact opposite so quickly.
Flip-floppers. That's the technical term I believe. Flip-floppers. I have a few of those in my life. They're fun.
Actually, they're great when when they care. But then when they have flopped to the other side and they don't, they leave you feeling kinda empty and foolish for learning to lean on them. That was obviously a foolish decision because they have proven that they will flop.
Musician's albums flop. Movies flop. Rabbit and puppy ears flop. But when people do, it's so discouraging and you just want to shake them and remind them that they could be such a wonderful friend if they wanted to be. And at some point, they wanted to be, but they flopped since then.
So things have flopped again.
I'm used to it.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

I'm willing to run...

Get ready...
Get set...
I've been ready and set for a long time. It's time to go. And GO I will!
You see, lately, I have let go of a few inhibitions. I understand that it's hard to believe that I had any inhibitions left, but I did. But I've let a few go and I've been having fun. It's a great new place.
Kinda scary. And at times, I feel kinda lonely. No. Alone. I feel alone. A lot.
But that can be alright. It can give some real clarity. That's what I choose to believe anyways.
So here I go. Big start. Big year. Big plans. A year from now, things will be completely different for me. I will be living in a different place, I will have traveled quite a bit, and things will be moving along for me. I don't know who will be in my life, though I have hopes that I won't lose anyone between now and then.
That's a scary thought isn't it? It's a terror that I choose not to live with. The thought that my people won't still be there. That makes my heart hurt and hemorrhage feelings of doubts and panic. But I have faith. I have faith that these people that I have in my life are there for the long haul.
And quite the haul it will be.
You know, I have these people in my life who are so important to me. And I try my hardest to let them know as much as possible how important they are to me. And I'm single. At this point in my life, being with someone doesn't make a lot of sense to me. There are too many places I want to go and too many things I want to try to be tied down like that. And that's thrilling to me. It's thrilling to me to not know where I am headed next and it is just as thrilling to know that I don't have to be with someone to be happy doing whatever that is. Too often, people hop from person to person, trying to be happy and be fulfilled. Too bad they don't understand what I understand, a nugget of wisdom I'm willing to share with the class. It's not until you learn to be happy alone that you will be able to learn to be truly happy with someone else. That's my PhD in counseling talking.
And it starts now, my new push. I mean, it started a few weeks ago but I'm really going for it at this point.
(that was the gun shot signaling my time to go as opposed to me offing a stupid individual.)
I'm ready ready ready ready, ready to run.
And it all starts now.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Getting the axe

I received a threat yesterday.
A real threat.
A buddy of mine threatened to chop off my misters with an axe and as much as I would have loved to believe that we were having a sub-par conversation about body sprays, we weren't.
But is it wrong that instead of being afraid that he would turn me into a woman, I actually kinda felt warm inside? Someone cares. If I was a Care Bear right now, the flar on my stomach would be shooting out light to deflect some evil cloud or constipated lizard or sad clerk. There is something wildly unsettling about the Care Bears. In order to defend themselves, they jut their stomachs out and shoot out light? I don't know that kids should be watching that. Society today's just so dirty.
So - while the threat was, I believe, real (and justified if I am being honest), it had the opposite affect on my psyche.
And with that, I head into my weekend, packed as it is, knowing that there is a threat on my head. Sorry. That was dirty too.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Who gonna check me boo?

I messed up again.
I mean, is it the biggest deal in the world? Probably not. And do I really feel bad about it? Probably not.
But I did. I said I wouldn't. No. I went as far as to promise that I wouldn't. But I did. Did I do what I promised that I wouldn't do? Not really. But I went just far enough with it to where I fractured that promise. Kinda.
Why so vague? Because it really doesn't matter what I did. We all screw up all the time. We all do things that we know we probably shouldn't do and yet, we do them because in that moment, man, it's great.
But life calls back. Again and again. Until we finally answer the phone and have to deal with the shouting on the other end. You know, I don't like being shouted at. I don't like the screaming when it's in an anger/frustration kind of setting. I don't. I like it to be spelled out to me, laced with christian guilt, and frosted with a dollop of constructive criticism. That's what I need. But I've been watching a lot of the Real Housewives of Atlanta lately, and shouting has become very appealing to me.
You know what's the worst thing in the world? And the best thing in the world? All rolled into one thing? "I trust you." Shoot me in the face. Just shoot me. It's the best thing in the world that someone would tell you that, to have that sort of vocal confidence in you that edifies you and makes you feel ten feet tall. But at the same time, that verbal sentence can seem like a prison sentence into a set of wooden emotional stockades.
So there it is. Except I don't feel like I am in stockades. No. I feel free. Free to make my own decisions for the first time in many many years. Decisions that may be right or wrong, good or bad, helpful or harmful. But I can make them. Just me. And that is highly liberating.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

"He's arrogant"

Tonight, I was at a birthday party. You know, one of those coming-of-age parties when they leave childhood behind and are suddenly legal. Right. I met some new people there, really, just one new person, and I actually already knew of her.
So I'm standing there, talking to her, she's fascinating and different and I'm intrigued. Well, my buddy who I'm there with starts talking to her about me and what my job is. So he starts talking me up, telling her how great I am and how I do all these amazing things at work.
It was a very strange moment. I have had bosses say nice things about me, coworkers, etc. And I would like to imagine that my friends say nice things about me when I'm not around. I can only imagine the things that are said about me. "He's obnoxious." "He's arrogant." "He's too clingy." "He doesn't make wise decisions." "I wish he'd leave me alone." "Why won't he just go away?"
But here, really nice things were being said about me in front of my face. And as much as the comments were flattering (and true), they didn't mean anything compared to how I felt in that moment, hearing my buddy talk like he was proud of me.
You know, in life, we talk about work so much and there is that point when people don't really want to hear about work anymore. Unless you're Britney or Beyonce. We could listen to them talk about work all day long. But me? Not that interesting. But to have someone that is that close to me talk me up like that, I feel like I'm flying.
He doesn't know that it meant that much to me. Maybe he won't ever know. But it might have brought me to life tonight. Thank yous are really corny and I've done that too much recently. But I feel like Alladin right now. You know, when he's singing A Whole New World and they are flying on the red carpet over that water? I can just imagine that would be the animated equivalent of what I am feeling right now.
The cake was good, the apples were wonderful, the cookies made my heart happy, but it was nothing compared to the feeling I felt knowing that he was proud of me. That was the best, and the most humbling, feeling in the world.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

7 again

I had a realization today.
As children, we fantasize that we have powers. Especially boys. We all want to be superheroes. We want to fly or shoot things out of our hands, or read people's minds.
I was talking to a friend tonight about the Incredible Hulk ride at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure park in Orlando and how much I love that ride. It was then that I realized why.
As you fly up that shoot toward Heaven, you lose all your cares and inhibitions and for a minute or so, you are flying. Suddenly, you are able to fly, just like every school boy wants to.
And that is why we love rollercoasters. Because we can live out the parts of our childhood that our imagination would only take us so far into.
And that feels wonderful. To be 7 again. That would be wonderful.

Monday, August 3, 2009


I had that this week. It was supposed to be garlic chicken but it was something else entirely and it was pretty incredible. I think that is where my happiness started. It started then.
Monica couldn't until she was 13. I figure that since I could before that, I have something to feel good about.

That whole thing about moving to the beat of your own drum, it's got such a negative connotation to it but in reality, It's not at all. I mean, is it so great to follow everyone else's beat? No. It's not.
Physically or metaphorically.

And keeping it.

Because sometimes, we need to be alone. Sometimes, when we are alone, we make mistakes, but sometimes, we need that time for clarity.

Bleep blarp.

It feels good to get along. It's like this unwritten and under-appreciated element of life. Getting along is like an undercurrent of nice. An undercurrent of peace.

I have that covered in my life.

I love a lot. And for the first time in months, I'm happy. I just needed Charlie Brown to express it.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Not food.

So as of late, I have felt a little...detached from my brain. Through a series of very easy, yet very retarded decisions, I have been left feeling like a balloon and the only bits of clear thinking that I can manage are the little droplets that funnel their way down the string of the balloon that is my head, floating three feet above my body.
It's an interesting view from up here. Not as great as I thought it might be. I mean, my head gets rained on before everyone else, whenever a wind blows, there I go, and in the end, I don't feel whole.
The worst part of it, is that with my brain not sending rational and wise thoughts down the highway to my body, it's just doing whatever it wants to do.
No good can come from that.
But I don't feel any remorse because, again, brain not attached.
So really, I've got to get, gotta get get, gotta get my head in the game. I mean, the more that I continue to drink coffee like water, the clearer things seem to be. So, I've got a new addiction. Really, it's not so new. But I am proclaiming it now.
Hi. My name is Ryan. And I'm a coffeeholic.
Hello Bruce.
you know in Nemo, when that bipolar shark is at the meeting? I'm that shark right now. That's me. Fish are friends. Not food.
So it's time to learn life lessons from a Disney film again. I mean they raised us. A dream is a wish your heart makes - go for your dreams, especially if your step siblings are whores. Just around the riverbend - there are new opportunities that could get you killed, but they could be very exciting as well. And the genie, he's responsible for the most important lessons. "Just remember, beeeeeee yourself." That's what's important here. He also taught us that the exits are here, and her, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, everywhere. There are no limits! We can conquer all! The mermaid taught us that anything with tentacles should be destroyed, Timon and Pumba taught us that singing a song can change the course of your life and make you happy forever, and Dumbo taught us two things. One, that we should love our mothers. Two, that mice shouldn't get drunk because no good comes from it. That could be said for people too. The many levels of Dumbo.
So I've got to get back to myself. I'm Alladin, wearing the great outfit but not being happy. I'm Mickey in Fantasia trying to please people. I'm those fairies in Sleeping Beauty who can't make up their mind on anything. I'm the Great Mouse Detective that no one has seen but is really terrific. I'm the hunchback...no. I'm not the hunchback. Really, if I was anyone in that story it was the gargoyles who could turn to stone and not have to deal with any problems anymore. I'm those poor baby rabbits in Robin Hood who just want attention.
But at the end of the day, I feel like that line in the Next to Normal musical. "Catch me I'm falling." It's almost a whisper. A faint cry. Not responded to. That about sums it up.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

The tale of July 25th

This is the tale of July 25th.
It began with our trip to Michaels to purchase paint. Nothing out of the ordinary. At all.
Then there was the wedding.
Look, I've been very honest with the fact that I never get to go to my friends' weddings because I always have a prior engagement that I absolutely can not get out of. Well, I was scheduled to go to a wedding today with a friend. I don't really know the bride and I have never met the groom before, but here I am, going.
I made a decision before going that if I was going to a wedding of people that I don't know, I was going to look the best out of everyone there. I made that decision. And you know what? I was. I was the best dressed male there. I now know what Brad Pitt feels like. If there was a list, I'd be on it.
Well, before that started, the bride's mother asked my friend to go Michaels to get stuff to fix the candles at the wedding. So back to Michaels we go. This time, we are helped by a very helpful man. Mind you, we are dressed to impress (which I did).
Wedding happens. It's fine. I ran into a familiar face which is always fun.
After the wedding, we start painting. We get to the point where we need more paint and we ran back to Michaels to get paint before it closed. So there we are, in the paint aisle, and I'm laying on the floor. I was knocked over by my "friend." So that man that helped us previously, walks by and asks me if I am okay. I am. Of course, he's seen us after our wedding costume change too. And don't think that he didn't comment on it because he did.
And did he call us out on how we walk the same too? He sure did. Clack clack clack clack. Right. So we have a friend in Casper, not the ghost, but the man at Michaels. And I was best dressed.
And this was the tale of July 25.

(side note: exactly 5 months til Christmas and if you look on facebook, people all over the world are celebrating Christmas in July. It's global now. And I take credit for it. You're welcome world.)

Sunday, July 12, 2009

What-a-size her.

Last night, after seeing a fantastic play, we were hungry. So we decided to stop at Whataburger and get some dinner. We ordered, sat at individual tables reminiscent of grade school, and a nice gal brought out our food to us one at a time. Except for one of us. One of the women in our fair group. No. She got the deluxe treatment, the What-a-sized treatment, if you will. Not only did TWO girls bring out her food, but they also proceeded to tell her that they loved her jacket and carry on a little conversation...flirtation much?
Now listen. Before you freak out. One of the women was moderately attractive and the other was semi-normal, but they had their sights on our friend. Yes. They threw out their nets and tried to bag her. Bag her like a burger and fries that cost too much but is oddly worth it. It's true. She did.

After this, I had a dream (in my new bed of all places) that I was friends with Adam Lambert and he had to deal with a crazy man that was threatening to destroy our school, but it's alright. He took care of it. Dream issue solved.
As I write this, there are people on my bed with me, taking up all of my space and bringing their body heat into my hot room on this hot summer's day. But they are not as hot as the two women at Whataburger were last night for my friend. No, not the grill nor the summer heat can compare to the fire burning inside of them. That is the fire of love.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009


Today, the most culturally relevant event was scheduled to occur. I was going to be at work when his memorial service was going to air on the major networks, preempting scheduled television. I turned the televisions at work on so that we could watch his memorial service.
This is a man that could do anything and he did everything. While his personal life overshadowed his professional life, there is not a person on the face of the Earth that can deny what he accomplished with his music.
At least, that is what I thought. Until a guy at work came in and asked if this was the only thing on television. I explained that it was on all the major stations and his response was, "Why? He's not even worth it."
In that moment, I felt like everything that I love about pop culture had been punched. I don't give a crap about who he did in his personal life. All I know is that he was the biggest star in the world. There was someone who said once that the three most famous people in the world were the Queen of England, the Pope, and Michael Jackson. I find this to be true. This memorial and the insanity that has surrounded his death is the most culturally pervasive global event that has occurred since Princess Diana died, and I argue that not even she was so globally recognizable and cherished as the music that Michael Jackson made was and is.
Having said all of that, I have no respect for that guy at work any longer. I just can't look at him the same way. You have to recognize the importance of a person who literally touched the world. You don't believe me? Watch the news. There are memorials to him all over the entire planet. People are standing in the streets of London and New York watching the memorial.
Side note: We all know that MJ wasn't the most religious of men. If he was, then he kept that to himself. But I do find it interesting how central God is in the memorial. Perhaps its something that makes people feel better about themselves to say that he is with God now. But I find it interesting that so many public figures feel free to talk about God in this situation but in their everyday life, He takes the backseat. Maybe if we kept Him in the front seat, the early death from painkiller dependencies and prescription drugs wouldn't have occurred.
But I will say this. Praise God for Jennifer Hudson. If nothing good comes from this at all, we know that Jennifer Hudson got to sing the song from Free Willy.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

An open letter

The Fourth of July with my family has become as much of a tradition as Christmas and Thanksgiving. The food, the stories that are told, the Boston Pops, it's all a part of the fun.
This time around, I brought the crew with me and that was thrilling because that meant tours of the wall of fame and the crazy steps up a notch.
My grandparents live on a golf course and so each year, as we have for many years, we headed out to the golf greens to watch the fireworks from the hills. Of course, this year, Sam Moon has bought the golf course. So Mr. Cheap Jewelry puts signs up everywhere that say we can't get on the greens. There was much concern. Until we just sat there anyways and had a lovely time. People were sitting all over the place. Take that Mr. Moon! Unpatriotic jewelry mogul. I should write a letter.
"Dear Mr. Moon:
Though you have tried your hardest to thwart the American spirit, we have prevailed. Much like our forefathers before us, we have prevailed. Even when you turned the sprinklers on during the fireworks, trying to dampen the patriotism of tax paying Americans, we have prevailed. Those people, though slightly more wet, stood in that wet grass and watched those fireworks. We sat on that grass and cheered the big explosions of red, green, and yellow. We have prevailed. Mr. Moon. You may have cheap jewelry and knock-off handbags, but we have prevailed none the less. The American ideal has won. Next year, if you turn the sprinklers on, I will stomp and slosh through the grass until there are giant pot marks on your perfect little golf greens. I will jam the backs of my lawn chairs in until there are grooves that golf balls can not escape. I will personally see to it that urine, mine or someone else's, ends up on the putting greens. Why? Because this is America. We have a right to fireworks. We celebrate with the Boston Pops. We dance the Sweet Caroline with Neil Diamond on television. We are Americans. And we are Brinsons. Don't mess with our holidays."

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Clever marketing

I've decided that I want a baby duck and an otter. Yes. That is what I need for pets. I'm watching television and there is a commercial for some dish soap. The announcer says that oil spills kill animals every year and this soap is what they use to clean the oil off of the animals, thus saving their lives. The marketing campaign is basically that it is tough enough to get rid of oil and gentle enough to be on the duckling's feathers. And then there is the otter, my favorite of all of God's creatures, second to squirrels. And beagles. Baby beagles make me melt. But I love otters.
When I went to the Central Park Zoo, I stood and watched the otters play for the longest time. Now, in all honesty, that was partially because I love otters and partially because there wasn't anything else to do. I've seen Madagascar. When I got to the zoo, I expected something like that. No. Nothing like that. The only thing that is the same are the penguins. None of the other animals are there. So, apart from an obese yet agile seal, the otters were my best bet.
I've always loved otters and now that I know that they have been cleaned by something that is both tough and gentle, I love them even more. And it makes me want to be the one cleans them off. And then swims with them in the pool! And I let them live in my bathroom! And they swim in the tub! Oh gosh. My 5th grade dreams just came true in my mind! What a great day!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Things that really matter

It's been a while. And there is a reason.
For the past month, I have been catching up on television that I should have been watching for years. I spent three weeks watching The Office and another week watching 30 Rock. I have watched, all together, 8 seasons of television in the span of about 4 weeks. And let me tell you, I feel awesome.
The kind of awesome that makes you feel inflated and muscular. The kind of awesome that makes you feel like you are taller than everyone else in the room. The kind of awesome that gives you the power to just look at someone and make them weep.
You know, I didn't watch either of these shows because I didn't have time. It wasn't because I didn't want to watch them, but I just didn't have the time. And now, I have made time and while I know that in the future, it will cost me precious time each week to stay on top of these shows as well as the variety of shows that I already watch, I had decided that I will devote my time to this.
And you know what? I think I will be a better person because of it. Now, I will have insight into things that I never would have had insight into before. I will be smart about things that I wasn't smart about before. I will have quotes that I will use in my every day life that I would never have been able to use before. And now, if you can believe it, I have started watching Mad Men. Yes. I have started another show that I plan on watching the entirety of this summer. And before the summer's close, I plan on being caught up on Lost as well. That isn't as much of an undertaking as I'm only a season and a half behind. But still.
Some people use their summers for internships. Some people use their summers to go on missions trips. Some people use their summers to help people or to work to save money. I am not those people. I am the person who is using is summer to watch as much television as possible, giving me a reason to boast at the end of the summer about the number of hours of television that I consumed like macaroons at an all-you-can-eat chinese buffet. And don't forget about the important things I have to do as well this summer. So You Think You Can Dance. America's Got Talent. The Fashion Show. Wipeout. True Blood. Hung. (Yes I'm watching it and I like it quite a bit) The D-List. The really important things that really matter.
Side note: I loved Transformers and I don't give a crap what you thought about it.
So there you have it. The summer update. I'm spending my summer doing important things. And you have every right to be jealous. That's allowed in this situation.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The day the music died...again

What do you do on the day that the person who single handedly shaped the way that music, music videos, and concerts have been done for the past 30 years? What do you do?
I mean, this is a day that is equivalent to when Elvis and John Lennon died. This is a day when someone who so profoundly affected pop culture has disappeared, and no matter how crazy he went or the strange things that he has done in the past, he will be heralded as the great talent that he once displayed to the world and made him the best selling artist of all time.

You know, there are few people in the world that warrant this type of press coverage, public reaction, text messages being sent all around the world, and basically shutting down news organizations. The reason that people like Elvis, John Lennon, and Michael Jackson grab this sort of attention is because they did something that no one else has done and they did it brilliantly. We will see this sort of attention given to Cher, Madonna, and Paul McCartney. They did things that no one else had done and changed the landscape of the world because of it.

It's a strange day. It's strange for me because of how young he was. Really. He's younger than my parents. I read Billy Crystal's 700 Sundays this morning and his father died when he was 15. It's been one of those days when I think about the value of the relationships that I have with my parents and how much I was a prick to them when I was younger. I'm older now, looking at the crest of adulthood and you realize that there is so much value in these people. Not that this is a new thought. It's been spinning around my head for about a year now. But this puts it all into perspective.

So there it is. Short and simple. I love my parents and I don't care how hokey that sounds. It's sad that someone who was such a big part of so many people's musical landscapes has died. And there is a plastic surgeon somewhere who is sobbing because his main source of income doesn't need him anymore.
Too soon?

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

No more Pac Man

A little piece of me that has been missing from my life for over 8 years came back today. It was like it grew back in, just where it had been ripped out.
And it was just as simple as that. A piece of me that was ripped out of my life like a savage cougar ripping out the belly of a wild hare. But it grew back. In the span of about 10 minutes, it grew back and my life became oddly complete again.
Here's the deal. I didn't know it was missing anything. I mean, I knew when it initially happened and I knew that my life was somehow incomplete. But I didn't realize that it was still missing. Like a piece of my pie has been missing and I just didn't know it.
Now I feel sorta foolish for not knowing. But there it is. Now, it's back. And life feels complete again. Which is strange because I have had so many great experiences in the span of those eight years. But now, they all seem more complete for some reason.

Side note: Is there anything more touching than this statement: "I love you more than sex."

The truth is, that which was ripped from me was a huge part of my life. Shaped the way that I do things even now. So that is why I have said the same thing over and over again in this blog. I really don't have the words to describe how I feel, just that I used to be a completed circle, then I was a Pac-Man shape and now I am back to a completed circle. A circle of life. A good life. A full life. Life.

Got it?

You know, on America's Got Talent, it is this free-for-all of people who should be institutionalized. But it's the sort of wonder show where people who have these strange talents can get up there and be on television and have their 15 minutes.
Let's address Nick Cannon for a moment. He's not bad at this. Perhaps he has found his niche. I mean, he can host a show and make people smile. And let's get excited for him and a real job. For a while there, he was just Mariah's husband. Now, he's got a real job and is bringing home a real paycheck. So that's my opinion on that.
But it's a great show that shows that regular people can do extraordinary things. I mean, there is that whole Susan Boyle thing and while the video of her made her this overblown figure all over the world (little did she know), it all started because she was awesome. So this show enables people to be able to become overblown and over-publicized figures of fame, thus destroying all tinges of normalcy from their lives and sending them into a downward spiral that will devastate their lives and turn them into F-list reality stars on VH1 that no one cares about and provide Kathy Griffin with fodder for her act...and for my blog.
Or I could just put an electric drill through my nostril.
Or cluck like a chicken while I play the accordion.
And I agree with Sharon. This show is "barking mad." And we love it.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


I've spoken about my love of the tollway and I was honored to be able to drive on it once again. Everything was good, everything was happening. It was great.
There were four a-holes on motorcycles doing stunts in the center lane of the tollway. A-hole is actually the technical term. See, there isn't anything wrong with doing stunts on motorcycles. That's fine. They were all wearing helmets and that's fine. Except that it was on the tollway! Do you know how fast people drive on that road? I was going 80 and I was slow in comparison to the Bentley that flew by me.
So there I was, trying not to hit these stunt men and hoping and praying that one of them doesn't fall off the bike. Picture it. They fall off their bike, they fall into my lane, I'm going 80 mph and I crush them. I mean, crush them. Their motorcycle helmets would crush like a snail shell under my tires.
So my great and wonderful drive was thwarted by some guys who thought they were cool and could do wheelies and not die. I hope they survived the drive because I sped past them so that I wouldn't be liable for killing them. I'd rather just do it with words. Dumb.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Two thousand zero zero

I've just made a discovery. A big one.
It's no rumor that my favorite year in pop culture is 1993. A lot happened that year. Power Rangers, Jurassic Park. Where's Waldo, Crystal Pepsi. Great year for pop culture.
But I have now happened upon my favorite year in music. Yes. I didn't think it could ever happen because I have so many songs that I love. But here it is anyways. And of course, it also derives from the 90s.
That year, is 1999, and no, it has nothing to do that the song, formerly known as relevant, by Prince. Rather than writing a really long explanation about it, I decided that I would include the list of the top 100 songs from that year from Billboard. Now, I've taken out the songs that I don't particularly care for, and just left the songs, some with their special meanings, that I do care about. By doing this, I am offering you a window...and insight...into my life. Because I never do that...

1. Believe, Cher
2. No Scrubs, TLC
3. Angel Of Mine, Monica
4. Heartbreak Hotel, Whitney Houston
5. ...Baby One More Time, Britney Spears - duh.
6. Kiss Me, Sixpence None The Richer
7. Genie In A Bottle, Christina Aguilera - liked the song but couldn't buy her album. Couldn't be a traitor to Britney.
8. Every Morning, Sugar Ray
9. Nobody's Supposed To Be Here, Deborah Cox - the original is good but the remix is like a kiss from baby Jesus.
10. Livin' La Vida Loca, Ricky Martin
11. Where My Girls At?, 702
12. If You Had My Love, Jennifer Lopez - I went out of my way to get this single.
13. Slide, Goo Goo Dolls
14. Have You Ever?, Brandy - a Brandy song can just calm you down, no matter what mood you are in.
15. I Want It That Way, Backstreet Boys - one of my favorite songs and I'm not ashamed of it.
16. I'm Your Angel, R. Kelly and Celine Dion
17. All Star, Smash Mouth
18. Angel, Sarah McLachlan
19. Smooth, Santana Featuring Rob Thomas
20. Unpretty, TLC
21. Bills, Bills, Bills, Destiny's Child - this was when we realized that they were about to take over our lives.
22. Save Tonight, Eagle-Eye Cherry
25. All I Have To Give, Backstreet Boys
26. Bailamos, Enrique Iglesias - all I can think about when it comes to Enrique now is the live clip that KIIS FM played in Dallas of him singing...terribly.
29. Fly Away, Lenny Kravitz
30. Someday, Sugar Ray
31. Lately, Divine - I still have this song on playlists.
32. That Don't Impress Me Much, Shania Twain
33. Wild Wild West, Will Smith Featuring Dru Hill and Kool Moe Dee
35. Heartbreaker, Mariah Carey Featuring Jay-Z - I bought this album and slurped it up like liquid white chocolate.
36. I Still Believe, Mariah Carey
37. The Hardest Thing, 98 Degrees
38. Summer Girls, LFO
39. Can I Get A..., Jay-Z Featuring Amil (Of Major Coinz) and Ja
41. Doo Wop (That Thing), Lauryn Hill
42. Mambo No. 5 (A Little Bit Of...), Lou Bega - I had this song on a cassette that I would listen to in the car...on my portable cassette player.
43. Sweet Lady, Tyrese
44. It's Not Right But It's Okay, Whitney Houston - the remix of this song changed my life.
45. (God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time On You, 'N Sync
48. Tell Me It's Real, K-Ci and JoJo
49. Back 2 Good, Matchbox 20
52. She's All I Ever Had, Ricky Martin
53. Miami, Will Smith
54. Hands, Jewel - I still think this is her best song.
57. From This Moment On, Shania Twain
63. Give It To You, Jordan Knight
70. I Will Remember You (Live), Sarah McLachlan
73. My Love Is Your Love, Whitney Houston
76. Almost Doesn't Count, Brandy
77. Man! I Feel Like A Woman!, Shania Twain
78. Steal My Sunshine, Len
79. I Need To Know, Marc Anthony
82. Back At One, Brian McKnight
85. Amazed, Lonestar - it was on this song that radio learned how to overplay and run songs into the ground.
86. Sometimes, Britney Spears
89. Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem), Jay-Z
94. Iris, Goo Goo Dolls
99. When You Believe, Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey - it doesn't get any better than these two singing together.

So I think it's pretty obvious that this year had a stellar soundtrack and while there are so many songs that are so great from other years, I firmly believe that this year is my favorite year of music. You can't judge me either. You're just so jealous that you don't still have your portable cassette player to listen to Mambo No. 5. Jealous?!

And I believe that God believes in Claude

I don't understand really what the deal is. I really don't.
I went to the store today around lunch time because I didn't have any bread in my apartment. I know. There's no way I am going to go through an entire loaf of bread before it starts to grow green fuzz. But I will use about half of it and I feel that half a loaf of bread is worth the 69 cents that it cost me to buy it.
I leave the store, bread, almonds, and deodorant/antiperspirant in hand, (I'm sweaty) and I get in my car.
The Hair soundtrack is playing. "I believe in God. And I believe, that God, believes, in Claude, that's me....that's me." My favorite part.
I look up and this woman with one of those weaves that doesn't even try to look natural gets out of her car. She's going to throw something away in one of the outdoor trashcans that serve dual purposes. Equal part trash and vomit receptacle. In L.A., if you spot one of these trashcans, park and wait because the Lohan will probably be there any minute ready to use the trash can...
Seriously, here hair was like a blonde (marigold) helmet that looks like the left half of her head is the overhead view of the Nebraska grain fields and the right side of her head looks part flock-of-seagulls and part Chaz Bono. I'm sure she was a nice lady, but the hair was obnoxious.
And as she gets out of the car, her weight no longer forcing it toward the pavement, it starts to roll backwards.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Is this the weekend of the parking brake? No. It's not. She didn't take her car out of reverse before she got out of the car to go to the "trash can." I'm sorry. Where is the mental check there? I mean, sometimes, I have gotten out of my car before I have turned the car off, but never when it was still in gear.
So its rolling, slowly, but still rolling, and she and her marigold helmet run back and get in the car to put it in park. She laughed because she thought it was funny. I laughed because I thought she was an idiot.
My favorite part.

Jim, Pam, and the other 4

I have this group of friends. Thick as thieves, some might say. There's not much that we don't know about each other, though there are certain things that certain people don't know about all of us. It's sorta funny how we keep some things from some people but we have full disclosure with others, but I guess that's more of a safety net really.
The safety net. Interesting. Where did that go?
But I'm getting side tracked. See, usually, I like to at least try to shroud what or who I am talking about. But I'm not really doing that on this one. Chances are, the person or people involved aren't reading this, so it doesn't matter much anyways. Just really an avenue for my venting.
That group of friends has been broken for a while now. We have acted cordial and acted like it's not broken, but it has been. As much as I could speak for others on this, I won't. Just me. I know that it's broken. But you know? The reason why I know it's broken is because of others. So I have to speak for them on this. It's broken. What was once clinched together like a fist is now missing a finger. And you know what? The fist misses the finger, but that finger seems to always been flippin off the fist.
I'm just sad of it being broken and you know what, I know that I wasn't the one that broke it. I've done my part to try to sew that finger back on and in what is a very morbid analogy, the finger keeps ripping the thread out. So what can I do now?
I broke my leg once. Twice. Scarred me for life, both physically and emotionally. Every now and then, it flares back up and is sore, but it's not broken again.
This, I wish would just be sore.
I'm watching The Office, this is one of my summer projects, to watch all the episodes of the Office and 30 Rock. I feel like I need to fill my life with something new and quirky. Jim just told Pam that he is in love with her and she can't because she's engaged and is planning her wedding, and he stands there, his heart breaking, and he starts to cry. So there I am, thinking about what I am writing, and I think that I feel like Jim. Just standing there, one sad tear, waiting to be sore instead of broken.
So there it is. I kinda just threw it out there. But there it is. The honest truth. That hard, honest truth. I am watching The Office and 30 Rock this summer. Deal with it.