Yesssss.

I have a crush.
Operation: make it happen.

Life goes ON. I knew it would...

Oh god...the winter.

It's happening.

I've been down this road. Several times.

I can feel it. It's here. It's real. It's ugly.

And I'm not talking about slush.


That horrible, desperate, alone feeling.
How old am I, soon to be 27?

Really?
Bleep.

Just relax. Be cool. It's fine.

Completely fine.

OK, here we go...



Don't go looking for it, it'll happen when you least expect it.

Oh really?

Even taking into consideration the fact that I haven't seen anything that resembles decency ...since I can't remember when?

They've come, they've gone, they've taken over.

Mindless. Jobless. Thoughtless.

Absorbed in fantasy. Themselves.

If you're standing next to them, be careful.

Their motto: the grass is always greener. Work out 6x a week, shop at Nordstrom, buy jeans with that thick, white stitching on the butt. Because the grass is always greener, and believe me, they wanna roll around in it.

Such bull, right? That grass is about as green as the manure that blankets it, grows it, feeds it.

Pretty soon you'll standing by yourself. Oh, cya. Found a grassy knoll that worked out 7x a week.

OK, bye.

That's the mindframe of most.
That's why the good are overlooked, and the rotten sip in the limelight. As fickle as ever.

The rotten will age, though. Their tans will turn to wrinkles. Their cheeks fatten. Their disease full-blown. Their lives lived in the dark and behind a straw.

You can spot them from a mile away. While they may seem cool now. They're not.

A mile away. You know who they are.

They won't be pretty forever.

But you'll be stuck with their personalities. Their never-dying insecurities.

Have fun with that.




Not me though. I can persevere: I don't settle. I don't give in. I stay true.

I persist.

You could only be so lucky. that's what i say.


Spring isn't far.
But for now, It's over.

Rules I Live By: the bible of ryansumner

1. Always be seen smiling. Even if it hurts.
2. Never own average-sized cereal bowls, wineglasses, coffee mugs, or conditioner.
3. White socks never go above the lowest part of your ankle.
4. Always have bread available; possibilities for quick meals are endless with a loaf of bread.
5. Never be shirtless in a bar or club. Ever. The beach...that's it.
6. Keep your wallet tidy and organized at all times. Nothing is worse than unfolding one of those huge, card/coupon-cluttered, quarter-pounder wallets. Gross.
7. Male jewelry should be kept to a minimum at all times; i.e. shell necklaces are never acceptable, nor are cuff bracelets, thumb rings, or eccentric belt buckles.
8. Keep your chin up, back straight, and shoulders back when walking.
9. Straws are optional.
10. Keep toothbrush up-to-date.
11. Look people in the eye (or at least the face area) when they ask you how you are doing, then return the question while keeping the focus.
12. Drink a half gallon of water per day, minimum.
13. Jeans/pants should always have some sort of fit...whether its your ass, crotch, or thigh/knee. It's not always just a waist/length scenario. Avoid potato sacks at all times.
14. Choose a liquor you can mix with water. Keeps you hydrated throughout the night and validates your "I never get hangovers!" statement you always gloat about.
15. Vodka raises your body temperature, making you appear red and/or sweaty. Avoid it.
16. Facebook status messages shouldn't purposely evoke self-pity, emotional disturbance, or inner/outer turmoil. Keep it light.
17. Also, and similar to rule #5, never be shirtless in your social-networking site's profile picture.
18. Always lock the bathroom door, even if you're alone.
19. Move toward the back of the bus. Up front is nothing but geriatrics and weirdos.
20. On a first date, choose something on the menu you can eat with a fork. Second date, anything goes.
21. Give restaurant leftovers to the homeless; you're not going to eat it anyway, especially if it has lettuce on it.
22. Bye, not buh-bye.
23. Red and yellow are not your colors.
24. Never blow your nose in earshot of another person, unless it's unpreventable.
25. Generally, 3 minutes in the microwave or 425 degrees in the oven for cooking anything that's frozen.
26. If you're getting ice cream, Starbucks dessert, or Chipotle-anything, you must first walk to (and later from) its farthest location, within reason.
27. Get out of bed immediately after you turn off the alarm. If you pause and close your eyes, you're a goner.
28. You'll never find what you're looking for in a bar. You know it to be true.
29. LOL is not in your vocabulary. Neither is lol.
30. Never answer a cell phone call when someone is talking to you. It's always rude.
31. Do not be rude to people, unless they have it coming.
32. Spend money on good bedding.
33. Do not overspend on shoes, no one looks at them anyway unless you're a girl. But avoid bad shoes--people will judge you based on the bad ones. For sure. Not that you care, but you know you've done it to others.
34. You need Centrum. Don't forget to take it every day.
35. I swear, the air that comes out of the overhead airplane vent thing irritates my skin. Turn it off, or flow it in a direction that does not hit your face.
36. Trees cry when you pick off their leaves for no reason.
37. If you think that it might be just a little too small, it's too small.
38. Exclamations points should be used sparingly!
39. One pump of butter at the movie theatre, one dollop of sour cream, and 3 donut holes, max. Anything more than that and you're asking for it.
40. 180's will never touch your head again. Never again. What were you thinking in the first place?
41. Redbox is a one day rental. ONE DAY. Not two. Not three. One. That's why it costs $1. Take it back the next day. The next time you see $3 on your receipt email, don't be so surprised and feel so cheated.
42. Lotion should always be accessible. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.
43. Make a list. You'll never remember everything. Plus, how good does that check mark feel? The best.
44. Do not return phone calls with a follow-up email or text message.
45. Year-round warm weather is for lazy, uninspired people. Embrace the cold. Embrace the elements. Feel the wrath. Revel in surviving. Spring is that much prettier and summer is that much more sacred.
46. If you're ever thinking in depth, pondering life, choosing a route--play Feist or Air in the background. It helps.
47. Spelling and punctuation are almost always necessary. Also, think before and while you speak. Be aware of your surroundings. Determine a level of appropriateness. Know when to change the subject. Know when to leave.
48. Class before ass.
49. You hate bragging. If it's on your end though, recognize the bragging opportunity and avoid it. Subtle it down.
50. Be happy with what you have, what you can do, and who you are, even when you stray from the rules.

It's such a conundrum:

I love, love hot chocolate. It's one of my most favorite things in the entire world.

The big, oversized coffee mug.
The Swiss Miss packaging.
Boiling water.
The feel of a thousand puffy mini-marshmallows.
The way they melt.

It's nostalgic. It's comfort.
It's the warmest part of winter.

BUT. and it's a big but.

after I drink hot chocolate


i get real hot and feel like puking.

The other day I was clicking through MSNBC and came across an article about the lamest blogs on the internet. Mine wasn't on there.

Phew, close call...

Actually, reverse that. Boo, I wish I made it on there. Bad publicity is suh-weet. After all, you better believe I checked out each lame-o blog thoroughly and even checked back again today. So, as far as my own lame blog goes, here's to another year of lameness!

*clink*

On the other lame hand, I've been thinking about doing some short story/poetry writing on here, but quickly changed my mind. I'm way too vulnerable for that. I mean, there are vultures everywhere.

So, instead, I'll continue to clue you into the lame thoughts/fears/etc. that plague my mind and conscience on a daily basis.

For example, I can't help but notice that whenever anything upsets me or if I'm put off, disadvantaged, turned down, told no, or given any other type of negative response, I automatically begin to write a strongly-worded letter of disappointment in my head. Instead of verbalizing anything, I write it down in my head. Instantly. It happens all the time: at work, restaurants, on the bus, train, at Walgreens, at the movie theater, while reading the newspaper, Details magazine, at my building's doormen, the gym and its personnel, here, there, everywhere.

No matter what bad situation or less-than-positive interaction occurs, if I feel at all jaded upon conclusion...boom, a letter is written.

However, none of these letters make it to actual paper, except on a few extreme cases, but rather they're all mental letters that sit in mental stacks on top my mental desk within my mental brain. Hm...mental brain, I like the sound of that. It's staying.

Anyway, it happened last night: I was at Jewel-Osco buying groceries. I get into the checkout lane and begin to unload my groceries out of my basket and onto the checkout conveyor belt thing. While I'm doing that, my roommate, who was checking-out in the lane across from me, asked if she could use my Jewel Preferred Savings card. I'm like yeah, of course, here you go. Didn't think a thing of it. So, I go to reach over the aisle to hand it to her and my checkout lady intercepts the transaction, takes the card from me, gives me a look, hands it to my roommate's checkout lady, she scans it, hands it back to my checkout lady, she scans it for my groceries, hands it to me, and then gives me another look.

I was confused. Was letting someone use your Preferred Savings Card against store policy? I didn't know it to be? Did I do something wrong? Why did you just give me that nasty look? Bad day?

Sorry 'bout it lady.

I, of course, didn't say one word about it. Rather, I just smiled, handed the bagger my eco-friendly grocery bags, happily swiped my debit card, inserted my pin number with great care, and upon exiting thanked both the check-out lady and the bagger for their service and went about my merry way.

BUT, in my head, the mental ink was hittin the mental paper. Hard.

My dramatic and over-the-top mental letter rambled endlessly about how I faithfully shop at Jewel-Osco on a weekly basis, to which (and yes, you're welcome) I buy mostly Jewel-brand items, I'm always courteous to the staff even though I feel like they never restock the shelves during the evening hours, I never do weird things like re-think my frozen Bob Evans Sausage Breakfast Biscuit selection and then place it in the cereal aisle next to the Cheerios as if that's where I found it, I never report dented cans upon checkout for a price reduction (does that even work?), and most importantly I walk around the store, aisle-upon-aisle, with a nice, big smile on my face to cheer on (and applaud) the efforts of those that work there (even though I wish they would stock the shelves more regularly).

Just doing my part, people.

Anyway, I won't let this solitary situation (although I once had an altercation with the person monitoring the self-checkout lanes, long story) affect future visits to Jewel-Osco despite the fact that the unexplained nasty look my cashier gave me (twice!) made me feel like I tried to rob the place. To boot, she didn't say thank you or have a good night. She didn't even fold my receipt like they always do. She just handed it to me (forcefully) and never gave me a second look.

Rude. Party of one. Your table is definitely ready.

Oh well. Their was an up side to all of this: the bagger somehow managed to fit all of my groceries into 2 bags instead of three, which was a miracle because I bought a larger amount of groceries this go-around than normal. This made carrying my groceries home much easier. I thanked her and even added, you did an awesome job, getting it all in there like that.

I don't know if she heard me or not, but trust that I said it.

In conclusion, if everyone was as nice as I am and treated others the way I do, life would be better and similar to whatever planet the Teletubbies live on...where the smallest nuances of life are surprising and fun, rabbits hop around everywhere, and, on top of all that, you get to see and hear a baby laugh at sunrise and sunset. I'd be President of this land (voting is not allowed, sorry) and name it LameVille.

Let's go, sign me up! And sign up that checkout lady. She could use a vacation. I'll pardon her.

Just so you all know, my favorite Brit tracks are Troubled, Quicksand, and Unusual You. I also enjoy Phonography a little bit.

Just had to put that out there.

5 Things You Probably Didn't Know about Ryan Sumner

1) I always set my alarm clock so that the minute mark ends in 03, 17, 33, or 47. Mon-Friday I wake up at 7:33 am...but if I wanted to get up earlier, I'd set it to 7:03. Or perhaps 6:33, but if I wanted to sleep in a little later than normal I'd set my alarm to 7:47...but never :43 because then I would probably be tempted to sleep in until :45 which would turn into 8:00. To me it just makes sense, because if I woke up at a :00 or a :15 or a :30 or a :45...I'd be like uhhhh, can I please sleep for like 5 more minutes? And then a vicious cycle would occur of sleeping/snooze, sleeping/snooze and before you know it I'd oversleep and be late. But with the extra few minutes on the end of every normal minute mark...I feel like I already got my extra couple of Z's therefore it's time to get up. Like I said, it makes perfect sense to me and has worked flawlessly for many, many years.

2) I think that stale popcorn (like popped yesterday or even a week ago) is delicious. I don't really care for freshly popped corn.

3) My signature alcoholic beverage is Bacardi Limon and water with a lemon twist for pizazz. And if that's not available, beer will do. No shots. (So I say.)

4) I've never, ever been remotely close to feeling like I've loved a significant other of mine. I thought I did once but that turned out to be a big trick. Therefore it doesn't count.

5) I purposely listened to the "Thong Song" today and I'm not making any apologies for having done so.

The End.

Sherri Shepherd is by and large the most hypocritical, uninformed, and grotesque human being on daytime TV that I've seen in a long time.

Just wanted to throw that out there.

Now, I can admit to actually liking The View at one point in my life but, when I get to chance to catch up, I've increasingly become more and more repulsed by her holier than thou approach to life in the 21st century.

It's insane.
She's insane.

And it's disgusting.
She's disgusting.

Sherri's education level was explained WAY back on her first couple of appearances as a newbie host when she oh-so-eloquently stated (on broadcast TV, mind you) that she didn't know if the Earth was round or flat...because the answer, as we know it today and quite some time in the past, didn't mesh with what the Bible stated.

Are you serious?

Yes, she was.

She later retracted her stupidity because Barbara gave her the airtime to do so.

But does anyone know the past of Sherri? Her story? Woah, it's dark, it's twisted and it's very un-Christian, yet, she sits on the couch of The View, perky as ever, while toxically spewing complete and utter ignorance and segregation to the audience across the nation.

But everything she says and stands for (today) is in the name of her Christian values and upbringing.

Sometimes I feel like Christianity gets a really bad name, some of which it deserves since people still preach it's ancient philosophies in a modern and educated civilization. But Sherri Shepherd is like the spokeswoman for all that is ugly and hypocritical in the Christian realm.

All in all, she's enough to make me ill (and very sad) and from here out not watch The View. I don't know if that is a real loss or not, but it is what it is.

My suggestion to you: Don't watch The View if you currently do so. Get a real perspective. Read the news. Don't let ignorance spread. Don't let Sherri Shepherd spread. Her ugliness is already everywhere, she's not alone. It's already affected most of this country, although more and more are breaking free from it.

(Mike Huckabee's appearance on The View didn't help either. While the ladies licked his balls in adoration, he spewed "They should have certain civil rights, like employment...")

Aw, thanks!

Sad day in the Sumner world. My "Grandpa" died peacefully in his sleep this morning at the age of 92. He lived a long, wonderful life. I refer to him as my "Grandpa" only because he wasn't my actual Grandpa...although he sort of was. It's confusing to me, still. Anyway, I always called him by his first name, as did all of my immediate family members:

FD.

Short for Floyd. He was always FD.

Long story, but, my father's actual father died before my sister and I were born. But for my two older brothers, he was their original Grandpa. Kelly and I obviously never knew him, but as time passed my Mamaw (Grandma) started dating FD after Kelly and I were born. They eventually married however, for whatever reason, it never caught on that we should refer to FD as our new Grandpa. Especially since my older brother's already experienced their real Grandpa. So it was weird. FD was FD. He wasn't anyone's stepfather, he wasn't called our Grandpa, and he never asked to be labeled as such either. FD was FD.

That's just the way it was. And it was perfect.

FD was a pretty great catch for my Mamaw. He was soft-hearted, soft-spoken, sweet, caring, gentle, always happy to see you kind of guy, who had a loveable southern accent and a fondness for gardening. He always had fresh, homegrown tomatoes sliced and ready whenever my family would come to visit for vacation or holidays. He also liked to have his first beer starting at noon, god love him. But he poured it into a glass, like the classy man that he was. He was also pretty adamant about serving fresh ham. He was big on getting ham from the deli before we arrived for a visit, and then made sure to tell us that there was thin-sliced, Virginia ham in the fridge at all times. Afterall, he got it especially for us. Anything that my siblings and I did made him laugh, too. He took such interest in us, I can just picture his response to seeing us or listening to us talk. He was such a gentle soul.

I'll never forget the way he said my name either..."Ryne"...and my sister "Kellay."

While he's gone, these memories are forever.

Rest in peace, Grandpa.

It is with great elation to inform you that I am typing this blog from the comfort of my bed at 10:54 am. Yes, that's right...no work today.

Sweetness.

It's a dull, grey Friday morning, one which I awoke to only because my eyes decided to open and not because the alarm on my iphone was strumming a guitar in an attempt to wake me up.

I woke up just because. Such a nice, wonderful way to start the day. Actually, I don't know that I'm going to start a day. I might just continue this current pace of nothingness.

Weird--as I'm typing this blog, I have my iTunes playing in the background, and John Legend's "Good Morning" came on.

Good Moooorning. Good Mooooorning, Love. Down load it.

Ugh. I might just stay here forever. The temp in my room is just right. Not warm..not cold...but a nice, cool sleeping temperature.

My pillows stayed in place during the night, too. Throughout the week, somehow, all four pillows have jumped ship at some point in the night. I've been waking up with a sore neck since the mattress has to fill in during the pillows' PTO. But this morning, my favorite pillow (don't tell the others) was securely and comfortably under my head. Nice.

Oh sweet...Tony Rich Project's "Nobody Knows It But Me" just came on. I love this song, and I love it even more when I can belt it without anyone listening. I can just belt, belt, and belt some more. Could today get any better?

Probably not, so I'm just going to lie here and revel in the moment that is a perfect morning.

Good morning, and good night.

I was checking MSNBC today to see what was happening in the world and, low and behold, I stumbled upon this absolutely horrifying and gasp-evoking news headline:

Armadillos May Be Moving to Midwest

When I first read it, I thought, okay Ryan, no need to panic. Surely the Armadillos are some new basketball team or obscure, southwestern retail chain.

...say what?

THEY'RE THE ACTUAL ANIMAL!?! COMING HERE????!!!!

Oh snap. I hate armadillos. I've never actually seen one, but I've definitely seen them on TV and they are seriously sick. And I feel like I read somewhere that they're nocturnal and only come out of hiding at night to eat (feast), like opossums. I mean, opossums freak me out enough as it is because they're crazy looking and have freakishly sharp, razorblade teeth/fangs that could bite through your arm/leg with one chomp. But now I have to worry about armadillos?

You know what my beef is with them, right? Armadillos have that weirdo alien exterior and, if you've been reading my blog faithfully, you know how scared I am of aliens.

And let's not forget...armadillos scurry as a form of transportation. I don't mind animals that run or swim, but scurry? That's the worst kind. I've seen them scurry on TV, and boy do those little legs move. If one came after me, I wouldn't even have a chance to scream, let alone run before they caught up to me and did stuff.

And they're migrating north? Why? Around here? Whaaaaat? Scientists believe it's due to global warming because, apparently, it's too hot in the southwest and therefore are in search of a milder climate. I'm going to assume it's entirely too cold during the winter months for them to come as far north as Chicago (that lake breeze is a bitch in the winter!)...but still, the shrinking proximity greatly threatens my non-armadillo-loving lifestyle.

They better stay out of my soft soil!

And I know I just wrote like 700 blogs about not discriminating against those who are different and all...but, really, this struck me completely off-guard and it's going to take awhile for me to adjust and perhaps, eventually, learn more about this unfamiliar mammal whose intentions I'm not fully trusting of just yet.

Yes, yes, acceptance, equality, etc.

It'll happen, just give me a second...

One more thing...and I just thought of this, wouldn't it be great if equality wasn't something we had to vote for, but rather common sense?

Wouldn't it be great if Americans looked at their own freedoms and happiness and then thought, hey, who am I, as a free individual, to impose my religious (or otherwise) beliefs on other free individuals?

Wouldn't it be great if people stopped looking into the lives of strangers to determine/judge/denounce their lifestyles, and instead concentrated on their own? What's good for the goose isn't always good for the gander. The US is a big, unique, melting pot of a gander. Not one goose is like another. Somebody smart once said:

"…whence came all these people? They are a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French, Dutch, Germans, and Swedes... What, then, is the American, this new man? He is neither a European nor the descendant of a European; hence that strange mixture of blood, which you will find in no other country. I could point out to you a family whose grandfather was an Englishman, whose wife was Dutch, whose son married a French woman, and whose present four sons have now four wives of different nations. He is an American, who, leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new government he obeys, and the new rank he holds. . . . The Americans were once scattered all over Europe; here they are incorporated into one of the finest systems of population which has ever appeared." − J. Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer.

Now here are some different, less smart quotes by supporters and leaders of Proposition 8, "People believe in the institution of marriage," said Frank Schubert, co-manager of the Yes on 8 campaign. "It's one institution that crosses ethnic divides, that crosses partisan divides. ... People have stood up because they care about marriage and they care a great deal."

I would go as far as to say that the 18,000 gay men and women that were married in California more than likely cared about marriage "a great deal" too. Another said,

"This is a great day for marriage. The people of California stood up for traditional marriage and reclaimed this great institution," said Ron Prentice, chairman of ProtectMarriage.com — Yes on 8. "We are gratified that voters chose to protect traditional marriage and to enshrine its importance in the state constitution. We trust that this decision will be respected by all Californians."

Wouldn't it be great if the institution of marriage crossed not only a partisan divide, or an ethnic divide, but also a sexual orientation divide? After all, you can't discriminate against a person interviewing for a job based on their sexual orientation, but for some insane reason, the US (and it's voters) can discriminate against gays and lesbians entirely based on their sexual orientation? Really?

And "Yay" for you Frank Shcubert and Ron Prentice, for leading the way and snatching marriage away from them as if you, heterosexual, white males (typical) living in the year 2008, somehow own the institution of marriage. Nice job, way.to.go.

Wouldn't it be great if Ron Prentice stopped using the word "traditional?" What is traditional marriage? There's no such thing. If there was, why on Earth could you go through a drive-through chapel in Las Vegas to get married? Thousands of people do it every year. Some people have the craziest traditions. Also, on that note, I once heard of a traditional marriage that lasted for "52 hours." I think we all know what that was about. But back to the earlier quote,

"He is an American, who, leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new government he obeys, and the new rank he holds..."

Wouldn't it be great if we, too, left our ancient prejudices and manners (i.e. Bible-toting, religious zealots) behind? The bible was written a long time ago. It doesn't reflect a modern culture in any way. You can't denounce or choose the lifestyles of U.S. citizens based upon your religious beliefs. Religion is not a law. Marriage is not exclusive to religion. It's for everybody. But, in respect, gay marriage doesn't break a single commandment out of the ten we (some of us) live by. Also, we now have an interracial President who, for some people, thought never could exist since slavery wasn't that long ago. Yet at the very same time, a dominating group of African American and Latino Proposition 8 supporters have the audacity to say/discriminate that gays and lesbians are undeserving of the same constitutional rights given to every American citizen? What??!! How?! WHY?!

Wouldn't it be great if homophobia and discrimination based on sexual orientation was given a fraction of the attention, denunciation, and elimination that racism, sexism, or religious freedom is given?

Put it under a microscope: discrimination is the unfair treatment of one person or a group because of prejudice.

If you still can't see that banning gay marriage is absolute discrimination in its simplest form...and that it's insanely wrong...if you still can't see that, you must be blind and in a vegetable state, which is the only reason you can't do anything about it to reverse it. Or you're homophobic and you don't want anything to be done about it. You live in ignorance and are OK with that.

It's one or the other. You either choose to discriminate, or you don't.

I don't.

This image is enough to make me sick. The caption of the LA Times reads this:

Bob Knoke, of Mission Viejo, Amanda Stanfield, of Monrovia, Jim Domen, of Yorba Linda, and J.D. Gaddis, of Yorba Linda, celebrate returns for Proposition 8 at an Irvine hotel.

What are they so happy about? What did they accomplish? Gay married couples lost their right to be legally protected as a family. That's something you cheer? That's a victory? That's a reason to party?

These people should start a clan, and their future parties should involve robes, fires, and chants of some sort. It's all too similar.

Remember their names and faces. They need more help than anyone.

Simply put: they are exactly what this nation should not be.

Some thoughts on my mind:

-January 20th, 2009 will be a great day, and considering how the world stands at this very moment (with Bush still in control and a long, dark 8 years overwhelmingly revealing the results of a failed presidency), I can only be excited to see what the future holds.
-Let's not forget our own problems, though. It was was the American people who voted Bush into office the first time. It was the American people who voted Bush into office a second time. We, the people, are also to blame. It's easy to point the finger at only Bush, but on some level, we have to point that finger at ourselves. Let's persist though. We started something really, really good last night. Let's run with it.
-We need to stop and remember that last night's victory wasn't about the fact that we, for the first time in history, have an interracial President. While it's amazing to reflect on how far America/ans have come, and the adversity we've overcome since the days of slavery and segregation, let's not forget something very important. Barack isn't in office because he's black. I didn't vote for him because he's black, and I hope you didn't either. That's the same as voting for a white candidate only because he or she is white. That's ignorant. Barack is in office because he stands for change, change we desperately need and deserve. Today, and for the next four years, are days to celebrate and witness Barack Obama as President, and champion him as a leader and advocate for changing this troubled nation.
-Proposition 8 passed. This is a sad day for California, and for the United States. We elected an interracial President, yet discrimination and segregation still exists for gays and lesbians. Very sad. What's sadder is that black voters (especially black female voters) had an astoundingly high turnout in support of Prop 8. Interesting, isn't it? In my opinion, male or female, black or white or other, straight or gay...none are choices we made coming into this world. We didn't fill out a form in the womb denoting our preferences. We are what we are. We cannot be discriminated against simply by what we are. We are human. We are citizens. We are equal. But not so fast. What happened last night changed that. If you're homosexual, you're somehow different. Your needs and hopes for family, marriage, and equality are not deserving. You're second class. You are not one of "us"...whatever that is. While white and black families share a water fountain, gay and lesbian families have their own to drink from. This national step forward has taken a step back. Don't you think there should be less hypocrisy in this nation, and more, much much more equality? Shame on you, all of you who voted in support of discrimination.
-In Arkansas, a ballot was passed that, in order to adopt or foster children, you must be legally married. I'm not sure how much adoption or fostering is going on in Arkansas, but, is it just me that believes the only real losers in this situation are the kids? While the argument is usually politicked as supporting the abandoned children produced in unloving or unfit homes (even the homes of Christian married couples), it's actually a contradiction. The children lose, and they lose big. Because in this instance, the ballot strokes the egos of married couples, it doesn't support the affected children. Because, after all, teenage girls, or oopsy-I-made-a-big-mistake women or whatever the circumstance may be, can place babies up for adoption or place children in foster homes (aka they need better parents) at any time. It's now law that those babies can only be passed off to married couples (yep, no single people or gay couples) or, even more ridiculously, married foster parents! What a convenient world married people live in. While citizens of Arkansas can bring unwanted children into the world all day long, and for no reason at all, only married couples can take them in, or at least foster them until some other married couple comes along with the room to spare. I guess you are only deemed "fit" as a parent if you have someone in your home that has to legally help you. But for the rest of the "non-legit" citizens of Arkansas (you know, since being married is the precedent of normalcy and being considered socially acceptable and loving) even if those kids needed a home in the worst way, you unmarried or GLBT folk are stricken from providing the child(ren) a home because you could/would damage them beyond what they've already experienced. YOU MUST HAVE A MOM AND A DAD! No exclusions or provisos allowed! Those kids won't grow up healthy or normal (straight) if they have only one parent or two parents of the same sex! The world doesn't work like that, mister! At least not here in the great state of Arkansas!

I mean, that makes perfect sense, right?

...?

No, it doesn't. It's selfish, it's barbaric, and it's to the disadvantage of children needing love by someone willing to provide it. Shame on Arkansas.

This just goes to show that the world we live in is still a mess, and still evolving. Barack has a big job ahead of him. But, I voted for Barack because I truly believe he has a bigger brain, and an even bigger heart than most people in this nation. One day, hopefully sooner than later, all American citizens will experience true equality, on all levels.

But for today, most people will get to experience that. Congrats.

Yay!

Today is the day, peeps. The nation has gone stir-crazy about getting to those polls to vote! And can you blame them? You gotta get a free donut, coffee, and scoop of B&J. That's all the incentive I need, minus the coffee.

Weird--donuts and ice cream are quite possibly two of my favorite things in the world...food wise, you know.

So is the world counting on my specific vote? Why else would they lure me to the polls with such temptations?.

Very weird, if you ask me. Which you didn't. But who cares?

Not me.

I haven't voted yet, but that's because I'm at work and I had a lot of shizz to do today, including writing this blog. But I will vote for sure. At 2. Today. It's a historic day, potentially, and this is a historic post...

Well, it's a post nonetheless. But this blog is the shizz! Right?

I think so.

Are you still reading?

If so, good, because I have a story:

So last night for some weird reason, during a dream, the song "We Built This City" was playing like a broken record in my head, BUT, the part that kept repeating was something like this, "my pony plays the mamba, listenin to the radio..."

Now, I don't know if those are the actual lyrics, BUT apparently I needed to know them at that very moment, at whatever time of night it was which, I really have no idea because I didn't even look at a clock. But what's weirder is that I vaguely remember opening my laptop to try and Google the lyrics...mind you I'm SLEEPING while I'm doing this. I don't know if anything was accomplished at that moment but I do know my computer is in one piece...I didn't like drop it or anything and completely disregard the whole event.

FLASHBACK!

Back when I lived at my parents' house I made my bedroom out of a section of the basement. I cleaned the basement up, painted the walls (including the ceiling) and like, made it the coolest room known to mankind. I also had a ferret at the time named Charlette. Why I had a ferret, I have no idea, but I had one and she was the sweetest little thing ever. Anyway, so I was sleeping one night in my bed and apparently Charlette got out of her cage somehow and was playing around in my room. I was unaware of this, I was sleeping. You get the idea. Anyway, Charlette must have crawled up into my bed to like...snuggle with me? I'm not sure what her intentions were. But, it couldn't have been a worse time to do so because I specifically recall having a horrible nightmare about a spider crawling under my clothes and up to my neck. I freaked out and, in a moment of bravery, grabbed the spider and threw it across the room.

Well, that "spider" just so happened to be my beloved ferret Charlette. I didn't connect the ideas/perpetrators until I heard a "noise"...a big ka-thunk made by something that hit the wall across the room. I looked over, and sure enough, there goes Charlette running for dear life. The range of emotions I went through when I realized what I had just done went from sheer terror to utter remorse and endless guilt. If anything though, I was simply relieved to see that she was up and moving...god knows I wouldn't have been. She apparently went unhurt and unbothered by the traumatic event, thankfully...but if she would have tried to bite me every time I went to pick her up I would have understood, completely. She didn't though. She was sweet.

Now, where was I before this flashback occurred? Um...oh yeah, lyrics. OK, I'm going to stray from this blog window to a new IE window so I can Google the lyrics to the song. Be back in a flash...

Back. OK, so I was close. It's:

Marconi plays the Mamba,
Listen to the radio
Don't you remember?
We built this city,
We built this city on rock and roll!

Oh, so it's Marconi playing the mamba, not my pony. OK.

But what the bleep is a Marconi?

Back to Google, bear with me...

OK, so apparently Marconi is a guy that invented the radio or, at the very least, the radio antenna (depends on who you ask, I guess)...anyway, something around those lines. But why is he playing the mamba?

But wait, what the bleep is a mamba? Isn't that a dance?

Hold.

A mamba is a highly venomous snake. The black mamba, rather. Marconi was a freak, playing that mamba when it very well could have killed him!

But I guess that's a testament to his bravery, playing with mambas. I hope it wasn't mamba #5 though!

Oh...mambo #5. My bad.

BARACK THE VOTE!

Is it possible to completely Scrooge-out and be "that guy" on Halloween? Doesn't matter, I'm doing it anyway. Now if only I could simultaneously type this post AND have my arms folded across my chest in complete disapproval...that would be ideal...

Disclaimer: Halloween is not my thing. Yes, yes...many of you absolutely LOVE Halloween, it's your favorite holiday ever, so fun...blah, blah. I get it.

I just don't share your opinion.

I think Halloween is overrated and kinda dumb. Prepare yourself, I'm gonna Scrooge-out some more, spreading my bah-humbug attitude allllll over this hizz, so here we go...

-I don't like costumes.
-I don't like when other people are dressed up in costumes. It makes me entirely uncomfortable.
-I don't like seeing every girl slutted out to the max because, nowadays, that's what Halloween really is about...just a big old slutfest for girls. Slutty, slutty. Yippee hooray. Naughty nurses, naughty Dorothy, naughty waitress, naughty police officer, naughty rag doll, naughty princess, naughty ballerina, naughty teacher, naughty maid, naughty Sarah Palin, naughty nun, naughty everything. Yes, yes. SLUT.IT.UP girls like there's no tomorrow. Let's see here, boobs-and-ass-hang-out-check...PERFECT! Just the right amount of both you naughty, naughty beer wench slut, you!

OVER IT.

-And trust me, I won't leave the guys/gays out of this equation either. They too are alllll slutted up. I wish I was going to be participating in the Halloween festivities just to see how many Michael Phelps' there are going to be. Prime, and I mean PRIME opportunity to be parading around in a Speedo and "get away with it" because, you know, it's a costume, duhhhhhh. You know the gays have been working out and solely eating chicken breasts for MONTHS in anticipation of wearing this non-original idea/piece of cloth. Tube sock? CHECK!

OVER IT.

What ever happened to putting a sheet over your head and being a ghost? I should really go as a ghost with a big, old white California King sheet hanging over my head with the only flesh made viewable being my eyeballs. I might even wear shades just to really one-up the situation.

I long for the days back in Coralville, IA when I had a house where cute, little Spidermen, and Batmen, and Winnie-the-Poohs, and Nickelodeon characters whom I have no idea what their names are/what they're supposed to be came to my door. Oh, you're some hispanic boy named Diego? Of course you are! Oh, and your brother is a...a Digimon? Oh right, Digimon, duh, how could I forget, my favorite one, too! Here's some candy. Point is, they were in ACTUAL costumes, coming up to the door and trick-or-treating...being all cute. I could pass out candy ALL.NIGHT.LONG. Just me and Lionel Richie. But, it was moments like those that made Halloween an absolute THRILL and an actual, worthwhile event.

Kids these days on the other hand. They ruined it for everybody, dagnabit!

I LOVE MY ATTITUDE. Despite my over-the-top and mostly-in-fun perspective, I'm actually just fine with the concept of Halloween and all of its glory, and again, I could really care less about which or what costume anyone decides to wear. While costumes still make me slightly uncomfortable, big picture: I realize it's all about having fun, and usually, I'm a fun-loving person. There's really no harm being done and people are just doing their thing, loving life, and that's a good thing in my book and therefore I don't harbor any negative energy toward Halloween enthusiasts/slutbags.

I just don't lose a nut over the situation like most people.

Sadly, I won't even be in the Chi for Halloween. A wedding in Iowa calls my name...but, at the same time, I'm not too terribly sad about missing out on the debauchery that is Halloween. No big deal.

After all, I get to wear my Scrooge/old-person-who-belongs-in-a-nursing-home costume every day.

You learn something new every day. True that!

The Tori Paradox
On Saved by the Bell, the character of Tori Scott (Leanna Creel) was added in later episodes as an initial sparring partner and later girlfriend for Zack. Originally, the final season consisted of thirteen episodes featuring the original cast, and the cast members' contracts with the show expired after those episodes were completed with the final graduation episode. However, NBC ordered more episodes of the show and Thiessen and Berkley refused to sign new contracts. Rather than producing new episodes with only four cast members, a new character, Tori Scott, was added to serve as a replacement for Kelly and Jessie.

Oddly enough, the promos for the final season of the show featured Kelly, Jessie, and Tori together, despite the fact that the actresses never actually appear in an episode together. Rather, the network alternated between "Kelly and Jessie" and "Tori" episodes each week.

During the "Tori" episodes, it was never explained why Jessie and Kelly were not present, and likewise for the "Kelly and Jessie" episodes, no mention was made of Tori. When the season aired in the UK, the episodes tended to be reordered so that the Tori episodes and the Jessie and Kelly episodes were shown together. This was scarcely less confusing, since no mention was ever made of Tori's sudden disappearance and Kelly and Jessie's equally sudden reappearance partway through the season.

Also, during the Tori episodes the school hallway had a different color scheme and Lisa had a different hair style.


Wow, and come to think my entire life I was under the impression that Jessie and Kelly were studying abroad in France and Kelly was also pursuing a modeling gig there.

Life has new meaning now.

So, the other day my Mom sends me this forward titled "Lemon Meringue Pie!" Hmm, okay, fine Mom, since it came from you, I'll open it. But if I read anywhere that if I don't send this on I'll die in 6 days or will be left off Bill Gates' will, I'm deleting it without reading further!

I'm first prompted with this message:

No cheating.

Wow, okay, this survey means business. And I really wish you could have seen the font it was in because it was this weird, old-timey, Mardis Gras-lookin font that didn't fit in with anything and, quite frankly, lost a little bit of its authority. Sorryz, but it did. Anyway, for the sake of all that is fun, I refrained from cheating. The forward continued on to say:

If all of the eight desserts listed below were sitting in
front of you, which would you choose (sorry, you can only pick one)! Trust me...this is very accurate. Pick your dessert, and then look to see what psychiatrists think about you.

Hmm, psychiatrists, ay? You don't say. Again, serious business. Anyway, okay, easy enough, let's get down to business. But, before the fun could begin, another prompt:

REMEMBER - No Cheating. Make your choice before you check the meaning, otherwise it's not as fun!

Okay I get it. And not for a moment would I ever risk losing out on the fun factor of this survey. Proudly, I fully stood by their explicit no cheating policy. Vote NO! on Proposition Cheating. Funny, right? No? Fine, let's get this bleeping survey started already.

Here are your choices:

1. Angel Food Cake

2. Brownies

3. Lemon Meringue Pie

4. Vanilla Cake With Chocolate Icing

5. Strawberry Shortcake

6. Chocolate Cake With Chocolate Icing

7. Ice Cream

8. Carrot Cake

Ohhhmylanta...where to begin. This is not going to be as easy as I originally thought. Jenny Craig would be sweatin bullets right about now. Okay, so I'm supposed to pick one dessert out of all of these desserts. BUT, really, that's not the hard part. After all, remember, whichever dessert I pick is going to reveal something about me.

Hmm.

So I perused the list of desserts for a couple of minutes and thought for sure I had this all figured out.

Here is my preconceived analysis of the given desserts. If I pick

Angel Food Cake - this means I'm like some goody goody who stays away from trouble and is a loyal friend, real boring, blah blah blah.

Brownies - this probably means I'm down to Earth and easy going, middle of the road kind of person that gets along with everybody. Heard it a million times...

3. Lemon Meringue Pie - Ooh a zest for life and drama to spare! Certainly...

4. Vanilla Cake With Chocolate Icing - This translates into...you're typically shy and quiet but my you have an edge! Surely something to do with angel by day, devil by night...same old story.

5. Strawberry Shortcake - Sweet, sensitive, caring, wouldn't harm a fly, yada yada.

6. Chocolate Cake With Chocolate Icing - Fearless! You mean business and don't waste any time. Get's to the point and you always get what you want! Watch out, world! I can relate...

7. Ice Cream - Gutsy, bold, strays from the path, an adventurer. I mean, it's really the only dessert that's a completely different form/you know what I mean. It isn't a cake, pie, or bar...it's essentially a liquid, so this surely has to stand out from the crowd somehow.

8. Carrot Cake - Okay, duh, boring, nerdy, quiet, spends weekends alone hiding from the world, nose always in a book, mousey. Loser is written all over this one.

UH OKAY NOT FUN AT ALL...way too easy. So, which do I choose? First I was going to choose the brownie - I'm going to toss my earlier notions to the wind, and for once, be totally honest with myself on behalf of this seriously complicated, scientific self-reflection survey. Now, I chose brownies because I don't like pie at all, no kind of pie, I don't care what it is. Nuh uh, not eating it. Whatever. BUT, I love cake. Love it. However, my favorite kind of cake is wedding cake and that wasn't an option, so can I really choose any other cake? FYI Wedding cake is much different than cake, I can't really explain it, but it just is. Anyway, so, since I'm being honest and my favorite cake isn't on the list, I should probably go with brownies. Ding ding, brownies it is. Let's see what that says about me.

WAIT!

Change of heart. Now that I think about it, I really love ice cream, too. Perhaps even more than cake and definitely way more than brownies. Problem is, I tend to always think of cake and ice cream as one, together, you know? Like, you go to a birthday party and have cake and ice cream. I've never really been in a situation where it's either one or the other. Cake or ice cream? Really? I mean, my favorite kind of ice cream is Coldstone's Cake batter ice cream. Conundrum! So, choosing between cake or ice cream presents a whole other dilemma that I can't even think about right now.

So I guess I can't pick either of them then? Shit, then all I have left is pie! Wait. Carrot cake isn't really cake, is it? I mean it's called cake, it has a cake consistency, but it's just kind of different/not really cake-cake, right? I love carrot cake, I don't know where it ranks on my cake loving scale - higher or lower than other types of cakes - that thought is for a different day. Shit. Another conundrum. I couldn't possibly go in good faith with carrot cake if it's not really even cake? CAN I!?!?

God, Ryan, you're such an idiot. Okay, so go with ice cream. Ice cream is probably the best answer. Just do it.

Here was my description based on my choice:

7. ICE CREAM -- You like sports, whether it be baseball, football, basketball, or soccer. If you could, you would like to participate, but you enjoy watching sports. You don't like to give up the remote control. You tend to be self-centered and high maintenance.

UGH! WHAT A WASTE OF MY TIME/MENTAL RESOURCES. Do any of you know me? Let's break this down.

I hate sports. I don't like baseball, I don't like soccer, I don't like basketball, and I especially don't like football. In fact, I used to have nightmares about playing these sports in P.E. because I royally sucked at them. One time I shot a free throw (in front of a lot of people, I might add) and it went over, that's right, over the top of the backboard. Without touching anything either. Right over the top of the backboard and into the bleachers. Anyway, nowadays, with that in my past, I would much rather attempt to play any of these sports rather than watch them on TV. Are you kidding me? I've never watched a sporting event in it's entirety since my sister was in high school and I occasionally went and watched HER play. And that wasn't by choice! We are her support system, according to my Mom. Then tell her to buy a better bra!

This survey is retarded. Who is this "psychiatrist" anyway, Tara Reid?

And I don't like to give up the remote control? What? I hardly even watch TV, let alone worry about the remote control. Actually, I sort of hate remote controls in general because they're always more complicated than I have the patience for. Way too many buttons and none of them do what I want them to do. The input/function button? Don't even get me started. I need one of those ridiculously huge, old people remote controls that have like four buttons: on/off, channel up/down, volume up/down, and mute. That's it. That's all I need. And you can hold onto it if you want to, I really don't care.

Now the last part was a kicker because really, it came out of nowhere. Me? Self-centered? Okay, fine, yes yes, you win, sometimes I am...I'll give you that much. Whatever. But, high maintenance? Never. I say that mostly because nobody really performs any maintenance for me. If I want something, I go and get it myself, I do it myself, I expect nothing from nobody.

Stupid survey.

YOU DON'T KNOW ME AT ALL. And I refuse to forward this on with the subject of "I Chose Ice Cream!" because that's false advertising. Yes I chose it, but it don't know me!

Ugh, I should have gone with Carrot Cake. Here are the rest of the stupid (and way off base) survey answers:

1. ANGEL FOOD CAKE -- Sweet, loving, cuddly. You love all warm and fuzzy items. A little nutty at times. Sometimes you need an ice cream cone at the end of the day. Others perceive you as being childlike and immature at times.

2. BROWNIES -- You are adventurous, love new ideas, and are a champion of underdogs and a slayer of dragons. When tempers flare up you whip out your saber. You are always the oddball with a unique sense of humor and direction. You tend to be very loyal.

3. LEMON MERINGUE -- Smooth, sexy, & articulate with your hands, you are an excellent caregiver and a good teacher. But don't try to walk and chew gum at the same time. A bit of a diva at times, you set your own style because you do your own thing. You shine when it comes to helping others and have many friends.

4. VANILLA CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE ICING -- Fun-loving, sassy, humorous, not very grounded in life; very indecisive and lacking motivation. Everyone enjoys being around you, but you are a practical joker. Others should be cautious in making you mad. However, you are a friend for life.

5. STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE -- Romantic, warm, loving. You care about other people, can be counted on in a pinch and expect the same in return. Intuitively keen. You can be very emotional at times but a true person in every way. You like to do things for yourself and help others learn about themselves.

6. CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE ICING-- Sexy; always ready to give and receive. Very creative, adventurous, ambitious, and passionate. You can appear to have a cold exterior but are warm on the inside. Not afraid to take chances. Will not settle for anything average in life. Love to laugh.

7. ICE CREAM -- You like sports, whether it be baseball, football,basketball, or soccer. If you could, you would like to participate, but you enjoy watching sports. You don't like to give up the remote control. You tend to be self-centered and high maintenance.

8. CARROT CAKE -- You are a very fun loving person, who likes to laugh. You are fun to be with. People like to hang out with you. You are a very warm hearted person and a little quirky at times. You have many loyal friends. You were meant to lead and teach others. A wonderful role model.

SEND TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS.....INCLUDING ME!
DON'T FORGET - PUT YOUR CHOICE OF DESSERT IN 'SUBJECT BOX' ABOVE BEFORE YOU FORWARD!

Whatever.

I loved that survey.

It's weird to think of yourself as some tangled, tortured soul that can never catch a break.

No one notices you.
No one needs you.
No one cares about you.

No one loves you.

You're living your life alone, simply existing in this cruel, horrible world that damns you when you do and spits in your face and kicks you in the balls when you don't.

I mean, just stay in bed all day long and dream about someone loving every inch of your mind, your body, and your soul because really, that's as close as you'll ever get to it. A dream. A daydream, a nightdream, a collection of images that garbles up enough reality for you to feel loved even when no one's there. Except you.

Ah, Fall. You can tell Winter is coming because that's when posts like this surface. But I take comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who feels this way. I know there are plenty of other big babies out there. Blaming it on being "bipolar" because surely it's easier to put a label on a feeling than it is to own up to the fact that you're a big, pathetic loser that feels self-loathing is a form of artistic expression.

So very Sinead O'Connor.

It's not though. I don't know what it is. As they say, it is what it is.

Just FYI, I've already put on the oversized sweatpants and extra ginormous, oversized sweatshirt. I've already gotten out of bed on an uninspiring Saturday, went straight to the fridge, opened it, shut it, opened it again, shut it again, walked back to my bed and flopped back in it knowing full well that my back hurt from lying down so long, the whole time feeling like the world and, more importantly, life was just passing me by. Minute by minute. Second by cruel second. Oh woe.

Get over yourself, Sumner.

Be proud of being you. Be proud of your life and everything/everyone in it. The others are missing out, they're the losers. Be proud of the fact that you don't need (or want) to invite random strangers, random bodies into your life/bed despite the fact that you need attention now more than ever. Thank your Momma for giving you the outstanding moral fiber that shows itself every day and, quite possibly, gets you through every day with your head held high. Stand strong with the notion that negative attention is exactly that--negative and completely unnecessary. Don't compromise. Feel good about letting go of the people in your life who do nothing but drag you down and pounce on your insecurities and gnaw at your weaknesses. They have no room in your cell phone, let alone in your life. To them, best of luck (and burn in Hell).

Remember, you are the filet mignon. They are the skirt steak. No, no, they are the hot dogs. The store brand hot dogs, too, not even the Oscar Mayer brand.

I'm special. I know that for a fact and I deserve nothing but the absolute best from you and from myself, and if it takes time (and time again) for someone, anyone to figure that out, fine, no problem, in the meantime I'll be sitting peacefully in my wonderful, cozy bed this Winter with my Jumbo Crossword Puzzle books and endless Swiss cocoa mix, in oversized sweat-everything, watching the snow fall over the lake, knowing full well that the world is a beautiful place, and that I am a beautiful person, and that life is a beautiful gift.

Word.

Things that are right now with my life:

Donuts. Um, I love them. Every time I go to Jewel and see those delicious cake donuts with chocolate frosting and Halloween sprinkles I experience a very emotional internal struggle.

Beyonce's new single If I Were a Boy, uhhhh, I don't get it. But I like the song.

Donuts. Still love them. Not Krispy Kreme though. Sick.

Fall is here and I couldn't be loving it more: my external element preferences lie in the 55-75 degree range, I love falling leaves, I like clouds, I love coats, sweaters, jeans, jackets, long sleeves, etc., the outside world is just prettier in my opinion.

The theme song to Cheers is playing like a broken record in my mind.

The Hills: Who else is really put-off with Audrina's fake and entirely-too-big boobs? Very disappointing, Audrina. Spencer, still love to hate him but Heidi is somewhat softening this season and isn't so abrasive for whatever reason. Every episode I somehow love Lauren more and more, it's hard not to. Whitney is still my favorite though, and when she got splashed at the pool it was basically amazing. I mean, she spit water out of her mouth. Love it. Lo is a complete bitch but God love it, I respect that in her. This show is so bad but so good. I really can't help myself.

As of late I've been digging Robin Thicke's music even though I don't really know why because all of his lyrics are about getting weirdo-freaky with girls. I just like the sound and tempo of his music. It's light and sexy. Very nice.

I have a constant scratch in my throat. It's totally from the combines, you Midwesterners know what I'm talking about.

I somehow drank too much on Saturday night and in reality I didn't even have that much to drink, but I still feel off and weird. Now Sunday I could barely face the day, even though I did. But still...three days later? I think someone tried to poison or drug me via one of my Limon&Water drinks. That's really the only explanation I can think of. Either way, it worked.

I have Spin class tonight and I'm really going to have to channel some positive thinking/images to get me through the 45 mins of non-stop spinning hell. I hope he plays Womanizer, that always gives me a second wind.

I feel better about life post MySpace abandonment. Much better. I think everyone should get rid of their profile. It's kind of a skeezy site, no?

I'm going to buy a cardigan today. Black, size small.

That's all.

Today I realized that I have a problem. Which one, you ask? There are so many, I know. But today it's this one:

I cannot, for the life of me, make eye contact with strangers. Can't do it. Abort mission immediately.

Why? I know, right. What's so hard about looking at a stranger face-to-face, eye-to-eye? On their behalf, I assume their reasoning is that it's an attempt to connect, an attempt to flirt, an attempt to show possible interest...I get it. Yes.

But, to me it's a threat. I know it's not really a threat or meant to be a threat (hopefully), but my immediate reaction reflects that I'm threatened or uncomfortable...which I sort of am, regardless of my own possible curiosity and/or interest in returning the gaze.

Even if I wanted to look, I couldn't. Oh no, nuh-uh, not happening. Can't.

OR, I could be super shadebally and look back when they're not looking, and then when they catch me looking, I easily pretend that I'm looking to just the left of them or just the right of them, so that it's completely plausible that I was never actually looking at them in the first place. Just, you know, seeing what was going on behind them...

I know I'm insane, just work with me here.

Some people are OVERLY aggressive though with the eye contact. If so, that's called staring. I'm not insinuating people are staring at me specifically but we've all been to bars or some type of social establishment where people will look at you without stopping. We've all been there and done that/had it happen: You might, at first, suspect someone is staring at you, so you glance their direction and YEP. Looking straight at you. OK, so let a few moments pass then casually look back again to see if they stopped. NOPE, still staring, OK, a little awkward. Let's try one more time, NOPE, still staring. The central problem here is that every time you look at them to see if they've stopped looking at you, you make eye contact with the starer which is essentially furthering the starer's objective of continuously staring. You get me?

See that's a problem. But that's not my problem.

Work with me, I'm going somewhere with this, I swear...

I'm single. I don't necessarily want to be. Or maybe I do? Eh. Anyway.

In this day and age, it's perfectly normal and acceptable for people to find each other online: Match.com, Myspace,...Craigslist, whatever your agenda may be, you could easily find somebody, anybody, 24/7, from your home computer. No 3-dimensional people required.

I, myself, am not so much interested in that.

You could also venture down to your local watering hole and creep around, buy drinks, stare...whatever. It has worked for many, many people over the years. Sure.

But, again, eh, doesn't work for me.

I know, it should work for me because its easy and that's just how it works. But, what, with the loud music, thousands of conversations going on at once, constant shuffling to the bar and back, squeezing and maneuvering around people in what looks like an endless buffet line, I have all but given up on meeting someone new and wonderful in a bar. After years of experience, it ain't happening. I can see that. I respect that. And it's probably for the best.

So, where do you find a potential, suitable mate? Well, my theory as of late believes my best bet is in the everyday world that we live in: in the grocery store aisle, on the bus, walking to work, checking-out at a clothing store, on the sidewalk, at the gym (the sauna doesn't count), or anywhere, really....anywhere you're least expecting it, that's where it happens. Or so they say. And so I hope.

And for good reason.

Mostly because the pressure is off...neither you nor the unsuspecting potential person are looking for each other. I mean, you are, wherever you are, in that specific location just because, but not in an attempt to purposely meet somebody. You're just doing your thing, going about your life and whoops, oh, hey you, hi, what's up? (internally or externally spoken.) You get where I'm going? Since you're not in a bar, where we all know why people go to bars (unless you're an alcoholic), there isn't an assumed "come over here and talk to me, after all, that's why we're both here" atmosphere. You can either take the surprise opportunity and act or leave it like it never existed. Drop it like it's hot. Very easy.

Sort of.

Keep reading, folks. I do have a point although it took an incredible amount of time to get to it:

This is where eye contact comes in. So, okay, everyday world, right, so let's say we're on the bus. The 145, specifically. A stranger makes eye contact which normally translates into "Hey, I find you somewhat attractive or interesting looking and I want you to know that." Okay, message received, now it's my turn to return the eye contact as an attempt to say "Ditto."

But that's not what happens when I'm at the wheel. To me their eye contact suggests "Yo, you and me, my place, now." And if I connect and look back my return message translates to "It's on!"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I wanted my return message to say "I like your hair" not "do me now!"

Ok, Ok, Ok, I know it doesn't really suggest any of the thought processes above, but like I said, in my head, it so does. Hence, my problem.

So what do I do instead? Oh, I immediately focus my attention somewhere else, anywhere really, like out the window, at a different person who doesn't happen to be looking at me, or, easy enough, I simply look down.

Coward! God, get over it you freak! (internal monologue)

I can't, and I need to work on it. Seriously.

And what happens if you make eye contact with someone and then, on top of that, they smile?

Oh Lord, help me. Help me now.

I know a MILLION people probably disagree with me, but that's never stopped me from speaking my mind before.

I think this video is stupid:



Yes, it's very important to vote. If you have an opinion on ANY political, economical, or human rights agenda, you should definitely research the stance of each nominee (be it for the Presidency of the United States, your hometown Mayor, or any elected official) in order to see where your vote should go. So, so, so important. Voting is perhaps the most direct way to make yourself heard. Right on.

BUT, this video is stupid. I get that its main purpose is to get people registered to vote. Or, actually, to get the youth to vote in case they have never registered before and/or don't realize you have to actually register in order to vote. But the message is two-fold. It's then asking for you to vote--"you" the people who, subsequent to watching this video, actually register and then stupidly cast an uninformed/uninspired vote (that could potentially cancel out my informed/inspired vote) only because a celebrity told you to do so, not because you actually cared about anything that goes on in this world until the very moment Jennifer Aniston eluded to polar bears drowning. Perfect.

This sad type of educational campaign has been done a million times before, I get it. Everything is cooler or at least makes more sense if a celebrity is on board. Does the more you know ring a bell? Yes. Instead of listening to our parents tell us not to do drugs, we watched the egg and frying pan bit once and then thought, oooh drugs are bad!

But, back to my point, what this specific message doesn't say is, hey idiot, before you vote, read a newspaper or look online to research where each politician stands before casting a vote that could potentially put his or her agenda into effect and absolutely change (or reinvent) the way our country works.

What it does say is, hey, if you give a damn about anything, go out and vote. I'm sure you've heard at least one of those topics brought up in conversation before, right? No? It doesn't matter. Vote for whomever you want. It really doesn't matter. Just vote. Voting is cool and fun! Heck, vote for whichever name sounds the best. Go on, do it! Vote! Just please VOTE ALREADY! And then send this to five of your dumb friends so they too know the importance of just voting.

My stance (and I'm no celebrity, but hear me out): the election is not about simply voting. It's not about how many people vote. It's not about pulling the lever, filling in the circle, touching a screen, or poking out a chad. Voting is not a cool thing to do. Voting is a not celebrity-endorsed product. Voting is not going to make your hair shinier or get your picture in the paper.

Voting is a responsibility. You are responsible for making a very important decision.

It's also about WHO you are voting for. It's about who these awesome votes go toward. Voting is about carefully selecting a qualified person to serve as an elected official. It's so extremely important to vote for the right person, not just to vote.

To me, voting is not just an action, but an insanely important responsibility.

This stupid commercial, however, suggests it's insanely important to do an action. Vote! That's all you have to do. It's like chewing gum. No walking required! And to get the point across, the clever producers of this video use reverse psychology on us (tricky!) to get us to want to vote...and I only thought that worked on 2-year olds! Wow, I'm going start using this trick on my parents!

Don't send me money. I mean it! Don't! I don't want any money! Money sucks!

I might as well quit my job!

Too many people have simply "voted" in the past two presidential elections. Too many people thought, oh hey that George Dubya is a good old boy, I'll go down to the local library and vote for him, after all, it's my civic duty to vote, albeit uninformed! And now look at where we are today. Because people just voted, since that's what they just do every four years without rhyme or reason, is why we are where we are in 2008.

And really playing up to how dumb some people are, thanks Sarah Silverman for reminding me that I can register to vote while pooping. Such a time-saver! I hope they send out a public reminder on Election Day to get off the toilet and get to a booth. But please, please wash your hands first.

(Oh, but the herpes line was actually really funny, I must admit.)

Also, come on, am I the only one sick of celebrities acting like heroes? They're not. At all. But, because our nation is OBSESSED with all that is celebrity and its nuances, the media strategically uses them to educate us morons/every day citizens on a regular basis. The whole "You do know you have to register first, don't you? You know that, right?" was really eye-opening.

Um, yes, I do know that. Thanks Leonardo DiCaprio for reminding me, I was well aware.

YES, there are tons of IDIOTS in this world that probably didn't know you have to register to vote, but do you want those same idiots to somehow get registered and then show up at the voting booth to vote for McCain/Palin because Sarah was on the cover of US Weekly and she looked totally rockin!? That's exactly who this video is created for and exemplifies its overall purpose.

WHY?!

Quite frankly, I really preferred if those specific uninformed, unintelligent people didn't vote. Sorry, that's my opinion. In the meantime, can this video be taken down so its no longer hailed as being amazing and informative? Yes, it's sometimes funny. But, if humor is a requirement for you to want to vote or if that's your only vice for forming a political opinion, watch the Daily Show or Colbert if you're so inclined.

And, I'm sorry, many celebrities are insane idiots. Many, many. Yet, here they are telling me (Leo even waits around for me to register, how sweet! Very I won't let you go Jack, I won't let you go!) to vote. But wait, are they registered to vote? I don't know. Should we make a commercial reminding them? You know they already forgot the relevance of what they just said since, most have to make a beeline for the exit in order to get to their TRESemme' commercial next door. That shampoo won't sell itself! Ooh la la... I mean, last time I checked, acting doesn't necessarily require a lot of brain power, does it? It's more or less a talent, no? And I appreciate that talent, greatly. I'm a horrible actor. But is acting academic? Since you're an actor and have millions of dollars more than I do, does that make you smarter than I? Should you Courtney Cox and your new big lips be schooling me? Or, should Eva Longoria be told not to vote in hopes that she gets all riled up and actually votes just to show up Ashton Kutcher and his stupid hat for repeatedly telling her not to? It may just work! I hope she votes for Barack, keep your fingers crossed though because Wysteria Lane is a pretty conservative street.

Ugh, this video just comes across so offensively elitist and eludes that us citizens have no intelligence or common sense whatsoever. That's so very untrue...for most people I know.

Overall, it kind of makes me sick. And sad.

People, vote if you care. Vote for who represents you. Vote for who you think will fix this country. Vote with purpose. Vote with a conscience.

Don't just vote.

...the more you know...

I feel like I'm missing out.

So, the Cubs are doing well...or so I hear/read on a daily if not hourly basis. (Sidenote: I'm not a sports-follower in the least, nor do I pretend to be, so bear with me here.) I do know, however, that the Cubs are very close to being in the Playoffs, right? I think that's accurate. So are the Sox. OK, so far so good...

So, my Lakeview neighborhood is pretty much intermixed with the Wrigleyville neighborhood. Wrigley Field is just two blocks west of where I live. And, I can actually see down into Wrigley Field from my 32nd story condo. It's an impressive sight. So, in some respect, I feel like I'm regionally (aside from living in Chicago) a part of Cub-mania, and that perhaps, just perhaps, I should be a little bit more excited about all of this endless hoopla mania people seem to be experiencing?

To be honest though, I'm not excited about anything Cubs-related in the slightest bit. Like...not the slightest. Really, all the Cubs mean to me is increased traffic, increased litter, and daytime drunken strangers asking me which direction to go on the Redline or they simply just point at me and shout "WOOOOOOOOO, go Cubs" and then continue on their staggered way. I never "woo" back. I either smile and nod or pretend that I can see through them. At any rate, none of these Cubs-related aspects impress me, thrill me, or make me want to endure more. I often ask when is the season over with alreadyyyy? I'm an annoying baby like that, yes.

But, here's the thing, a very small part of me wants to join in the celebration. I mean, I love hot dogs, I love beer, and I love drinking beer while eating hot dogs (not simultaneously, I guess). Uh, perfect, right? That has baseball/Americana/sports appreciation written allllll over it. Plus, I guess I'm mildly humbled by the sheer happiness that people have/emit for the Cubs. With the world the way it is, I'm glad people still find the time to chill out and enjoy themselves. It must be a great feeling to just be doing what you like to do in the company of others who feel the same.

I get that.

So, I'm going to try to be happy for the Cubs. More importantly I'm going to try to understand the Cubs. I'll read the newspaper articles and perhaps I'll even bring them up in conversation to see what I can learn. Though I've never once in my entire life ever said the words, "So, how about those Cubs?"...Ever. But why would I? Like I said, I really have zero idea what's happening with the Cubs other than the fact that they're doing good which, from what I understand, apparently isn't the norm. BUT, a general lack of knowledge or insight has never stopped me from openly talking about other subjects I have absolutely no idea about. I mean, I can talk some serious shizz about stuff I know very little about, if anything, and often get away with it perfectly fine. I do it all the time. No biggie.

Which leads me to this, and I can't believe I'm going to say it, but... Go, Cubs, go. Wait, wait...I can do better. Go, Cubs, go!

Yeah, that's the ticket.

P.S. I've actually been to Wrigley Field (on a stadium tour) and was allowed to go into the locker rooms, announcer booth, the Cubs dugout, and even on the Field itself. I have proof, too. I took some pictures with my iPhone that I'll post later.

Geez Louise before you know it I'll have my very own ESPN blog. All sports all the time. Just wait.

(OK, actually, don't wait for that.)

This post is going to be a running list of ideas because, for some reason, things are stirring in my mind. If I don't release this stuff it drives me crazy and it also makes me have the weirdest.dreams.ever. I don't know how many times I sat up in bed talking last night. At times I would wake up and actually hear myself mutter out the last few words, something to do with diapers, and then I would immediately think, oh cripes, I'm losing it again. Warning. Warning.

So, in hopes that I sleep through the night without endless dreams about snakes being in my bed, here goes:

-There's a song in my head that I can't.get.out: Future Love by Varsity Fanclub. I like the song and all but it simply will not leave me. Baby if you ask me, I will say, I don't even know your name... See what I mean? That part keeps playing over and over again like a broken record.
-I keep going back and forth about the idea of wearing a swimming cap while I swim laps at the gym. Should I do it? Will I look completely ridiculous? Reason is, I want to start swimming laps but my hair is longer and I don't want the chlorine to absolutely kill it, so I need some kind of cap to shelter it. Wait, is that even the purpose of swim caps or is it to make you swim faster? For some reason I thought it also protected your hair? I should probably research this. I mean I have Speedos to wear so that I can swim faster...and before you get all funny about that, these are cool, long Speedos, not the super insane brief Speedos. You know the kind of person that is wearing the super short ones. Yeah, that guy. And often at a certain stretch of beach in north Chicago. That's not me. I'm wearing cool, long ones at my gym swimming pool while swimming laps, thank you. Way different. I'm obviously still insecure about my Speedos, agreed.
-I really want this campaign season to be over with. I can't stand hearing about Obama/McCain and Palin anymore. I really, really can't. Can we have the elections a month early? Please...
-So I watched The Hills last night and I still can't seem to convince anyone that Heidi and Spencer are not together in "real life." I know that it's all just a publicity thing to keep people watching the show, but really, no one could really be with Spencer. Not even Heidi. I mean, doesn't he make your skin crawl every time you see him? Even his rude obnoxiousness, I realize, is completely hammed up since everyone loves to hate Spencer, and he definitely caters to that, but really, personality aside, his on again off again mustache/goatee would make anyone puke. Especially me. Back to my point, I think that they are contractually supposed to appear together, or appear to be together until the show is officially over with, you know, to keep people guessing on what happens the rest of the season. I don't know, the show is completely ridiculous and pointless but I can't stop watching it. It's perhaps the only show I watch on TV anymore besides Project Runway and seasonally AI. I can't watch news television for the obvious reasons (see the bullet above).
-Does anyone else think this season of Project Runway sucks significant butt? I do. Korto and Jerrell are probably the "best" designers on the show but that's not saying much since everyone else is completely worthless and Korto's personality is about as interesting as...anything in the world that is boring, flat, and completely monotone. And did anyone see Jerrell wearing those pants when he was dressed as a "rock star"....um, I was very uncomfortable with, you know.
-I'm growing out my hair so just bear with me for a few months, OK? If you don't like it now, well, shut it, I'm not cutting it short. I've had the same haircut since, birth, with it being short and bedhead-y. I'm over it. Everyone and their mother's brother has that haircut.
-Is purposely being splashed in the face the single most annoying thing on Earth or is there something more annoying that I wasn't aware of? I guess even non-purposeful face splashing is annoying. Even if it's just when someone's fingers are wet and they do that little flick-thing in your face causing microscopic water beads to fly directly into your eyes. That's still really annoying. I hate splashing.

I feel slightly better. I'll update this if a thought strikes me as being too heavy for my head to lug around.

Nostalgia.

Disturbia.

You get the idea.

So, I deleted my MySpace. Actually, rather...annoyingly, I could only delete the interface of my MySpace rather than cancel the account altogether. Turns out, back in 2005 when I first created a MySpace account, I arranged for the account to liaison with my college email, meaning any and all MySpace notifications were automatically directed to my college email. Why I set it up as such, I have no idea. After all, I graduated college in 2004. I didn't get a MySpace til 2005. Time warp to year 2008, I obviously no longer have access to my college email, since, I mean why would I? I'm over college and college is over me. Additionally, after graduating, I didn't take the 5 seconds to reroute future college email to a different, non-college, and all around universally-accessible email address. So, whatever is sent to my college email, I guess, stays there forever. Somewhere out there in the internets my unread college emails, whatever they may be, are compiling endlessly. Cool! I just hope I didn't win a million dollars...or even worse, missed out on a really funny (or informative) forward. Ugh, the possibilities...

Long story short, I can't deactivate my account without access to my college email so that I can open the "Confirm MySpace Account Deactivation" email Tom so nicely sent to me making absolutely certain I REALLY wanted to cancel my precious account.

I do, Tom. I do! But...can't. Oh well.

Despite this setback, I deleted everything off of my original site: pictures, friends, comments, etc. and made everything completely private to my now 0 friends with hopes that, someday, my site will be automatically deleted for general lack of use by the powers that be on MySpace.

The kicker is (and yes, there is a point to all of this), I accidentally clicked my MySpace inbox link and, while the page loaded, thought for a single, solitary second "You know what, I should probably delete every message in my inbox." Quickly, reality set in and it hit me like a bat out of hell that flew into my windshield like a ton of bricks only to later find out that my car insurance doesn't cover windshield replacements: there are some solid gold nuggets in that inbox! You'd be a fool to delete such treasure, matey! Arg!

OK, maybe my inbox isn't that cool, but at the least it can provide hours upon hours of entertainment and horror. I made up my mind. The sweat dripped from forehead as I intensively reviewed the computer screen before me: I had to fully ensure that the cancel button would indeed specifically cancel my original (stupid!) intention of deleting all selected messages.

Phew. Success. Inbox intact.

What a relief. I mean, next to graduating high school, preserving my inbox was hands down the best decision of my life. I mean, I had over 168 pages of messages to peruse. Wow. Bet you wish you could get your hands on some of those, don't you? Mhm. Raspberry jelly.

Ohh man...OH MAN, some were juicy, some were retarded, some were embarrassing, some made me smile, some made me mad, some made me laugh (but not lol, I almost never do that, a haha at the most) some were touching, and some made me squirm. By the end, I endured an endless range of emotion through each click. After looking through all 168 pages of random messages, it dawned on me that I've weirdly encountered a LOT of different people over the years, some I regret ever talking to while others I regret not getting to know better, or perhaps not taking the time to provide a reply. I also read messages from friends (former and current) that instantaneously transported me back to some interesting times, ideas, and situations. I would have completely forgotten most of these memories if it weren't for this overlooked gem of an inbox.

So fun.

In conclusion, any of you random weirdos out there that read this blog and used to check out my MySpace, well, I guess now you'll have to settle for just my blog. Unfortunate, I know...

But oh, you can easily find me on Facebook. Or in real life.

No, no. Make that just Facebook.

You know the Clay-mates are freaking something serious right.about.now.

Gaiken, c'mon. Like it's a surprise.

Was anyone else aware that this existed? Bear baiting? I had never heard of it until PETA emailed me something. Anyway, like I always say (or repeat?), knowledge is power.

Apparently it's occuring in the Middle East, and I'm assuming the government there has bigger fish to fry, but, still, take it upon yourself to do something.

Sidenote: Did anyone else know that 1 cup of Caesar dressing has 136 grams of fat and over 1200 calories? I had a caesar salad for lunch and they went stark-raving crazy on the dressing, so I did some research to see if what I just consumed was potentially problematic and HOLY SHIZZ...I'm in trouble.

I once described flaws as being fantastic. That statement still holds true. Flaws are fantastic. They're what makes us human. They keep us grounded. They document our inabilities and at the same time serve as a platform for improvement.

I have MANY flaws. And I'm not ashamed of a singe one. Embarrassed, perhaps. Ashamed, definitely not. Here's a running list:

-I'm disturbingly indecisive. I can't make up my mind about ANYTHING. It's tiresome, it haunts my sleep at times, and it's all around annoying.
-I'm incredibly lazy. Or perhaps I should say I'm a huge procrastinator. I'll put off getting a haircut for months just because I don't want to call to make an appointment.
-I'm horrible at math. I can't figure out tips on my own...or atleast I refuse to learn how to do it. I heard it wasn't hard. I don't do fractions either. It took hours and hours of tutoring to get me through Algebra I, Algebra II, and I cheated my way through Geometry thanks to my math-savvy friends in high school. How I passed tests though, I'll never figure it out. Luck, I suppose.
-I can't commit to anything: relationships, working out, saving money, laundry...it all seems like such a great idea at first and I'll be on board for awhile, but eventually it gets pushed way back on my priority list, the number one priority being sleeping, of course.
-I have a slight speech impediment. It typically goes unseen but it happens. Just a slight stutter/slur of my speech.
-I'm annoyingly impatient. If something is supposed to happen it better happen now.
-I almost never shave unless I absolutely have to. I hate shaving. I often look like a wild animal/barbarian because of it, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.
-I always take/order more food than necessary. I can't bear the thought of being hungry or not having enough food at any given time/meal.
-I almost always have a piece of gum in my mouth, and when I need to spit it out I'll put it anywhere. Trust me, I will find a spot. Swallowing is not an option.
-I don't do PC anything. People may take it offensively, may take it wrong...I really don't care. If it has to do with humor, observation, or just calling something what it is without sugarcoating or fear of being called out for it...I'm all about it. Life shouldn't be so serious and technical as people make it out to be. Yes, there's a time, place, and crowd for everything, agreed, but it's entirely plausible to comment on the world as it is without a user-friendly interface. We're not robots.
-I push the legal limits of appropriate places to be barefoot on a daily basis. I'd be barefoot all day, every day if it were street legal.
-Sometimes I talk WAY too much. Like I literally do not know when to shut my mouth and breathe. Anyone that has ever been on a date with me can surely attest to this.
-I claim I never snore, but in reality I once caught myself snoring. I don't know how it happened but it was like I was mentally awake but my body was still in sleep mode and I actually heard myself snore a very, very soft, perhaps even cute snore. I'm almost positive I only snore when I'm really tired. Or atleast I tell myself that.
-I make a habit of buying hats that I typically never wear. I probably own around 25 hats but I've actually worn maybe 7 or 8 of them...sporadically, too. Like, throughout years.
-Sometimes when I walk down the street I like to envision paparazzis hounding me.
-Here's a favorite quote of mine, and no, it's not by Emerson, Einstein, or Frost, but rather the movie Legally Blonde. The flaw is self-evident:

Elle: I feel comfortable using legal jargon in everyday life.
[someone whistles at her]
Elle: I object!

-I will defend myself or try to prove a point even if it requires large amounts of lies and fibs.
-I have a MySpace. MySpace is pretty much stupid and unnecessary. But do I have one? Yes. This is mostly a flaw since the only reason I have a MySpace is to let people stalk me, I mean, socially network me as a possible friend/interest. I'm tossing around the idea of deactivating it. Major life decisions, I know.

Anyway, that's enough for now. Ahhh, I feel better. Sharing your flaws doesn't mean people will see you as imperfect or inept, but rather it acknowledges that you really do know your personal shortcomings and are man/woman enough to admit them. Publically. Through this form of reveal, I feel fully confident (and somewhat obliged) to do something about it. With all this out, now is the time to grow as an adult and improve, strengthen, and tackle these flaws, head on, apply directly to the forehead.

Sorry, anyway, back to my point.

Step 1: throw gum in trash can...

Done. Wow, that was easy.

I'm already on my way!