Yuck. I'm swamped at work. I'm working on a case that's worth $303 million dollars. That's a lot of pressure. If we win, dinner's on me.

Anywho, I need to start buying stuff/cleaning my condo for my New Year's Party. If you were invited, consider yourself lucky. It's very VIP.

Remember, come hot.

Oh, WOW... I'm amazed. And I'm pissed. Yeah, definitely pissed. I'm not pissed at you, because, you see, I expect that from you. That is absolutely who you are, and there's nothing much you can do to change that. You think the world is at your disposal, and that you are rare delicacy, the hero, the shining star above Iowa City. Please. You are NOTHING special. Nothing special whatsoever, and eventually, everyone comes to that realization. Hopefully sooner than later. You are a user. A leech. You can only survive if you're sucking the life out of OTHER people, because you are incapable of surviving on your own. It's pathetic. So, I'm not mad at you. You are EXACTLY who you are. Congrats. Right.

Now, YOU, I'm mad at. Well, not mad. Disappointed. And I guess I'm mad at myself for thinking you were more than what you actually are, or are proving yourself to be. All that time, all that energy, all those feelings -- what a waste of time. What a waste of my life. And the fact that I still think about this whole thing is simply fuel to the fire. How completely stupid was I to think, that there are genuinely good people on this Earth? And stupid Me for placing value on you, because, I thought you were a good one. A keeper. A follow-up. You were worth the while. You made me think that I was doing something good in my life. You made me feel good. For once, I felt like I had found someone that was different...someone better than the rest.

How stupid was I?

So, after much consideration, London is a no go. My Mom would DIE if I went that far away, and I think that I would die, too.

Wow. So, it's interesting how things work out, isn't it? Congrats on whatever it is you think you're gaining. I hope you're happy with it.

Despite what it seems, I really love life. And I'm so excited that my life makes me feel good, because that can only mean bigger and better things are to come. I'm so ready for it, too.

Major moodswing occuring...right..about..now.

So, I had a GREAT weekend with my fam. My brother and sister from Colorado drove home to Galva to see everyone for the week. Unfortunately, I was only able to see them for the weekend, but it was still some quality time. I have the BEST family ever and I guess this weekend helped me remember that. I have some great pictures on the way, so keep an eye out for that.

Anywho, so I had the chance to talk to my Mom and sister a little bit and I started to realize some stuff about myself. I am finally in the right frame of mind. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm making good decisions, and that I have good things happening, and I am surrounded by great people, and for that I am TRULY lucky. Not all 23 year olds feel like that. However, I do, and I'm grateful. I'm a very, very lucky guy.

Stream of conscienceness RANT:

Here's where my mood changes, I've been thinking about my love life lately and I've come to the conclusion that I am WAY too good for some people. Now, before you go and start hating on me and erasing my number from your cell phone, hear me out. It seems like I am SURROUNDED by a culture that assumes all relationships are based off of sex. Sex is like the glue of all relationships, whether it is sex appeal, sexual attraction, a sexual act, friends with benefits, "hook-ups" (which is such an ambiguous/undefined term), or whatever else...it's all based off of sex. Sex, sex, sex. Is that ALL that people think about these days? I know we live in a Hollywood-based society where we learn dating skills from Sex & the City and Laguna Beach and that only guys with big muscles and girls with big tits are what we all aspire to look like/be with. GIVE ME A BREAK. It's so easy to look at someone and say, "Wow, that person is hot and I'd like to have sex with them." Why do people date one another based off of physical attraction? Yes, it's important to be attracted to the person that you're seeing, but does that physicality keep you in a relationship, or does their physical appearance reveal ANYTHING about a person? F...some of the hottest people are the BIGGEST losers in existence. No one thinks that though because they're too busy imagining what they look like naked. So, people pursue one another based off of who's hot and who's going to give into a night, or week, or month of fleshly indulgence and fun. Not me, though. If you're a big, horny person, then yeah, go ahead and fuck everything in sight. I'm SO different and my friends have come to realize this about me. I want QUALITY. I want a relationship where I'm in love with a person because I KNOW that the person is PHENOMENAL, and that sex is a bonus, not a selling point. In my mind, no relationship that is based off of factors like beauty, sex, wealth, or power ever survives or is even worthwhile. Look at celebrities...NONE of them can ever stay together because they date/marry based upon their status, and money, and most importantly - their looks. Why do celebrities only date celebrities? Are they above us ugly, non-televised poor people? To them, the answer is probably yes. But all I can do is say HAAAAAA HAAAAAA HAAAAAAAA to Nick and Jessica, Paris and Paris, Brad and Jen, and practically EVERY celebrity couple EVER. And you know why they all suck? Because none of them are with one another for the RIGHT reasons. It's all circumstantial. I don't want circumstances. I want reality. Looking beyond celebrities, there are people that I know that are exactly the same. EXACTLY. It's so sad, and so disturbing to see how they dictate their lives. Yes, it is their life and they can do whatever they want with it, but it's still sad. SAD. These people see lust, not love...and the difference between lust and love is SO huge, that it's pointless to even write about it. Everyone is in lust these days. Except me.

Here's my deal -- I want to FALL in love. I don't want to look at someone and say, "You're hot, I could see myself being with you." FLIPPING RIDICULOUS. In some respects, I don't even want to be initially attracted. I want to see someone, think they're "okay" and after talking, and telling jokes, and shooting the breeze, and watching movies, and holding hands, and awkward moments, and sleepless nights...I want to see the beauty that makes up their ENTIRE being, inside and out. Not just their looks, not just their clothes, not just a casual flirtation. I want to fall in love with someone that is less-than-perfect, and then in time learn that they ARE perfect...and more importantly, perfect for ME. I want to love somebody for exactly who they are, and nothing less....flaws and all. Flaws are fantastic. They make us human. And if someone can accept me for my flaws, my life, and my everything, then that is absolutely who I want to be with, and that's who I'll devote myself to, and that's who I'll give up everything and anything to be with. Love is rare, so when you find it -- take it and run with it.

See what I mean -- mood swing. You didn't see that coming, did you?

Nicole Richie's publicist just reported to the Associated Press that she and her fiancee of nine months, DJ AM, have cancelled their engagement and have split ways. The first thing that came to my mind....Nicole Richie has a publicist?

That pretty much means that I should have a publicist.

I brush my teeth, I put the cap back on
I know you hate it when I leave the light on, I
Pick a book up, and then I turn the sheets down and
then I take a deep breath, and good look around...
Put on my pjs and hop into bed, I'm
half-alive but I've been mostly dead
I try and tell myself it all be alright
I just shouldn't think, anymore tonight...

Wow, what a long, tiring weekend. Don't get me wrong, it was a great weekend, but shizzzz..I'm kinda exhausted. I feel like I've neglected my friends for a couple weeks now and, for that, I'm sorry. My bad. I've just had a lot of stuff going on lately and it all kind of came together this weekend, and now that the weekend is over, I think things will get back to normal...for the most part. So, friends, I'll try to spread myself around all of you a lot more than I have been recently, because I know that's what you ALL want from me. And like Britney says, "I see nothing wrong in spreadin' myself around." And that's my prerogative, too.

Have you ever looked at a large crucifix and thought, "Jesus Christ, you have nice abs..." ...?

I have.

Oh my god, guess what happened today? So, I was sitting at my desk listening to some music with my headphones, pretending to work, and all of a sudden Will Smith's "Switch" came onto the satellite radio station that I was listening to. Usually, I would have flipped out and ripped my head from my body because I hate ALL that Will Smith is. However, I was in the middle of editing a few documents, so I just let it continue to play. Without me knowing it, my foot starts tapping to the beat, my head starts rocking side to side, and my body begins to do a light rock. Before I know it, I feel compelled to clap...but I restrain the urge. When the song ended, I had realized what I had just done and therefore committed suicide. Thanks, Will.

I ended up not going home, even though I thought about it like 25 different times. Oh well. My Mom even bribed me with buying me whatever groceries I wanted if I came home. But alas, I had a hair appointment at the Buzz Sunday, so therefore I remained in this wonderful area. Har. Oh well, my hair looks great...but I'm hungry.

Well, I'm at work, but am I working? Not right now... I have stuff to do, a lot actually. However, I feel as if I rush through everything that is due for today, they're just going to give me more stuff to do, only to supplement the lack of tasks. So, I decided I'd just take my time today. I mean, it's Friday. Nothing is supposed to happen on Friday's. I'm decorating my desk and office right now, too. I've bought a few things, stolen a few things from the supply room, bought some stuff at Target to put on the walls, and of course I have pictures galore. I even bought a nice, friendly, work-inducing office plant named Sven. The plant looks nothing like a Sven -- he's a tropical plant, all wild and exotic-looking...but I like the name Sven. So that he is. Supposedly, office plants are supposed to keep the air in your office cleaner, as well as keep the workers postive, focused and motivated to get things done. Riiiiiiight. My salary is the only thing that keeps me working, and smiling while I do it. Bosses love smiling workers :)

Here's some work info, shall you need it --

Ryan Sumner
Proposal Writer
Pearson Educational Measurement
319.339.6400 Ext. 4672
ryan.sumner@pearson.com

Oh, and I'm not going home this weekend, so scratch that idea out of your mind.

So, last night I watched "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" on-demand, and even though I fell asleep through parts of it (probably important parts) I came to the conclusion of "Wow, what a great idea." If I could erase a few people from my mind, YOU BETTER BELIEVE I WOULD.

Time for bed!

Ugh, I'm such a momma's boy. I've decided that I'm going home this weekend. I haven't been there for quite some time now -- since the last week in September to be exact. So, yeah, it's been a little over a month and I'm feeling a little selfish for not going home to see my Mom and Dad. Being the last child (out of four) to leave the house, there is a lot of pressure, stress, and guilt attached to the circumstance. Granted, I've been living in Iowa City for almost 2 years now, but yet I still feel like my Mom and Dad expect me to come home every weekend, or call every other night. My Mom and I are pretty close. Extremely close, actually. Now, I know all kids say this, but, I really am my Mom's favorite child. Call me what you will, but my Mom and I have always had a special bond that no one else in my family can come near to. Sure, my Mom loves all her children, but with she and I-- things are different. I can honestly say that out of the four, I'm the only one that has my Mom as both a mother and a friend. A best friend. My Mom is so proud of me, more proud than anyone else is. She's the best. I couldn't imagine my life without her, nor would I ever want to. She knows everything about me - she absolutely loves everything about me - imperfections and all. Every single thing. Everything. No one else on this Earth does. Not one single person. Not one.

So, I lost my cell phone. I know people lose their cell phones all the time and get new ones, but not me. I've had the same phone (well, phone number/plan) for a longgggggggggg time. I had hundreds of phone numbers in it that I wouldn't even know where to begin to get them back. Ugh. It's like losing your identity. Okay, maybe it's not that dramatic, but it's a really big deal. I think I'll go to the Sprint kiosk in the mall tomorrow and, I GUESS, purchase a new one since I have the phone insured. I don't even know how I lost it. All I know is that I bought some stuff at Pier 1 and when leaving, noticed that it was downpouring outside - so I put my cell phone in my sweater pocket. I ran like a school girl to my car and hopped in, not knowing anything had happened. It wasn't until this very moment that I've come to the conclusion that it's gone forever. I've searched in every place there is to search (to which I've come across some things that should have remained unfound) only to come up with nothing.

On a happier note, I start my new job tomorrow. I'm unreal excited. Finally, a grown-up job that is focused around my education, my work experiences, and my intelligence. I don't have to deal with customers, I don't have to sell anything, I don't even have to be nice. I get my own office and I am handed stuff to do that requires thought, intellect, and a little creative genius. And if that wasn't enough, I get paid an unreal amount of money to do it. So, again...unreal excited, yet unreal sad at the loss of my Sanyo 8200.

I'm too good for you, anyway.

Shanna Thomson 1982-2002

A Sonnet -- For Shanna

By: Ryan Sumner

I lie along the ground and stare upon
A simple face unlike the one I know.
With fixed expression and warm feeling gone
Once fresh skin – gray, no more a pinkish glow.

Those eyes which lack a twinkling shine so true
Return my solemn gaze though etched in black.
Sun shining hair I run my fingers through
To find ashen strands, a soft-silky lack.

Lying near I utter soft cries in vain
To embrace memories yet solely see
That dark, frigid sketch - your only remain.
Here no life, no body, nor flesh will be.

By leaving you now, I feel so alone
seeing your face upon this cold tombstone.

So, the BEST thing ever happened today. I had interviewed last week for an amazing career opportunity with Pearson Educational Measurement -- a major academic test and textbook corporation - in which they were seeking a writer and proposal consultant for their company, along with the University of Iowa. Today, I received a phone call at the crack of dawn in which they offered me the position I was interviewing for and a FAT salary. I, of course, accepted and put in my two weeks notice at Pacific Sunwear. My boss there is FREAKING out that I'm leaving, but honestly - I'll be making more money than I know what to do with at the new job. Hm, what should I do? Duh. Kiss my ass, Coral Ridge Mall. Basically, I'm rich.

(This is not about my own father. Rather, it's a vision of something I've seen before.)


Thinking of You, Dad
By: Ryan Sumner

The mattress deepens and molds to a stagnant body.
Two limp pillows lie beneath an airy, thoughtless brain.
Legs outstretched, apart; unmoving, unable.
Rubber wheels spin, twist - shake.
Breathe.

Eyes fixed upon the cheap drop ceiling.
No left, no right, a straight focused stare.
The stories, the images - the memories within,
will remain within, remain untold, unappreciated.
Sleep, eyes awake.
Breathe.

Jesus hangs above the bed, looking down with poorly painted eyes.
His bleeding body as motionless as the one below.
A television utters the only noise,
Lucy’s mischief goes unnoticed, her beauty unseen.
A blurry screen rarely viewed.
Breathe.

Lights, fluorescence, flicker over humming machines.
Pale blinds hang, refusing, restricting a ray’s warmth.
A hallway draft refreshes the smell of urine from his nose, while
crisp oxygen pours into his lungs through pathetic, plastic tubes.
Crucial beats linger; uncaring, undetected.
Breathe.

Folded paper stands tall - an angel, a cloud
“Thinking of you, Dad” signed, Truly Yours.
Three months of loneliness resolved with a card.
The ink, the words, the thoughts unread.
Heart beats. Heart pauses.

Heart stops.

So, during my wonderful day at Pacific Sunwear, out of nowhere I encounter this ---------------------->

For the first time in my life, I feared for my safety at the hands of a drunk, psychotic shopper trying to make a fraudulent return. "Uh, Security...come here now."

Please, GOD OF MINE, please help me get the job I'm interviewing for at the University. PLEASE. No more mall. Please.

Sooo, it's 2:26 a.m. and I am going to watch Sister Act II from video-on-demand. How do you feel about this? For me, it feels like I'm living on the wild side. I mean, it's almost 3 a.m. and I get nervous if I'm up past 1 a.m. Uh, WILD. And Sister Act II?...ca-razy. Don't be jealous.

I have a college degree. Will I ever realize this? I just paid a hideous student loan payment. Did I even flinch? I tucked away four years of college for this exact moment in life. What the fuck is my problem?

Following this link will explain why I refuse to walk alone after 9 pm. It also explains why I can't sleep at night.

http://www.snopes.com/photos/people/peppers.asp

Not my finest hour. I'm working on it. (and yes, that's a beer bottle sticker on my crotch, *thanks friends*)

So far, the 23rd year has proven to be quite lackluster. Nothing good happens at 23. There's no respect for a 23 year old. There's no incentive, no surprise, no reward -- nothing. Nothing at all. Or worse, I could be 22. Thank God I got past that age -- it's even worse. The build-up to one's 21st birthday is, usually, an unforgettable experience. Once you're 21, you think life is a better place, or that you're a different person. Right. The span between 21 - 28 is only heightened by being legally allowed to consume alcohol, rent a car, receive lower insurance rates...and wow, many other exciting and rewarding privileges. Now, when you hit 29, things start to get scary. You're almost 30. Now a 30 year old is going to look back on their 20's and get nostalgic as if it was the best time of their life, even though all the years run together, really, and it's almost impossible to associate great events, great stories with an age. I remember that I was completely wasted on my 21st birthday. How special. Moving on, I couldn't even tell you what I did, or what happened when I was 22, and if I could, it's only because I can say "Oh yeah, that happened last year." Real cool. I'm going to do something this year to mark my 23rd year of life as something more memorable, or atleast worthy of being remembered. Ugh, and it will have nothing to do with working out more or drinking less. I'm hoping this doesn't turn out to be a resolution or a goal, because I give myself those every day. "It's 8 am, maybe I should get up and run? Nah, I'm too tired." That suck ass and it gets real old, real quick. Maybe I'll go somewhere, with friends, and really enjoy myself for what it's worth. I want a unique experience, every year, that I'll never forget...or even better, experiences I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to. Guys, lets go to India. Stuff happens in India.

Don't worry, children. This isn't a "real" blog. This isn't an attempt to fill you guys in on what I ate for breakfast, or which one of my friends made me mad, or that I'm contemplating on taking a nap. This is just a place for me to share some wisdom, spark some attention, and hopefully, fulfill my sporadic need to start writing again. I'll try my hardest not to be a "blogger" by rambling on about each unimportant or way-too-personal-to-write-about-online aspect of my life -- even I wouldn't want to read about that.

But, ooh, I can't resist not displaying my life via PICS (...what a dumb word - PICS...just say picture, or photo for christ's sake). Enjoy.

Here you'll see:

My pride and joy in life -- Buster.

Best friends: Kimi, Molly, John, Bennett, Jeff, Jordan, and Kimi again (loves her).

Of course the family is included, but I can't find a group photo where we all look hot. Hello, I'm all about flattering those who deserve to be flattered.

Last, but not least, you will find me. Yes, in this photo I am indeed drunk. DON'T JUDGE ME. I'm human.

Life = Complete.