According to the news, almost 98 million people watched the Superbowl.

...and I wasn't one of them. Take THAT, Nielsen!

And, today is Super Tuesday where I could cast my vote for either the first female or "black" presidential candidate.

...and I'm not registered to vote in the city of Chicago. Take THAT, Lady Liberty!

But seriously...I'll take this opportunity to talk a few politics with you. And SIDENOTE this is a rarity because I only talk politics with my Mom because she and I generally have the same thoughts about everything.

...um...

I really don't feel like Obama is up to par with being President. I really don't.

------------->insert cricket chirp here<---------------

Now, before you arrange for my tar and feathering in a public square...read further. I do, however, enjoy Obama. I think he is a great speaker, has great ideas, and is an all-around great person. I don't think that he is capable of running the entire country though. I am wholeheartedly unconvinced that he has the depth and experience to deal with every facet of our nations problems and challenges, like universal healthcare, education, the economy, and national security. I really don't. On the other hand, I feel like he is capable of prioritizing civil liberties and facilitating a country-wide focus on equality. He has strengths, important ones, but he's not presidential material. Not yet. He'd make an excellent Vice President.

Go Hillary.

I don't know how I stumbled upon this, but I'm glad I did.

Guidos Gone Wild: Dance-Off

Some girl with a fine sense of observation and wit challenges a couple of guidos to a dance-off. Yes...I especially love the shyer guido who has the coolest pair of jeans I've ever seen, as well as a minimalist, intermittent style of dancing...it's quite interesting.

Guidos

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I'm considering adopting a second little pup to join the Sumner family. I'm doing this for several reasons:

A) Buster needs a brother.
B) The pup is coming from an adoption/rescue agency and he needs a nice home.
C) I slowly want to become a cat lady...except with dogs, and in male form, of course.

Thoughts? If I were to get this pup, I'd name him Truman. His current name is "Zippy" and that's simply not happening on my dime. I haven't adopted/even seen the dog yet, but let me know what you think.

So, I know an incredibly insane amount of people go to Starbucks and I too find myself there on occasion. I'm not a coffee drinker at all, nor do I do any of the lattes, espressos, or whatever else they offer. I go there for food (surprise!). They have this cookie called a Toffee Almond Bar. It's SO good. I really don't have any other point to this paragraph besides the fact that I wanted to get it off my chest about how much I LOVE the toffee almond bar. Sidenote: I just looked up the nutrition info for it (because I do that to almost everything I consume) and it has 400 calories and 19 grams of fat. HOLY SHIT. Good thing I only have one once a month. Call a crane.

Actually, I try not to obsess over nutrition because what's the point in eating if we're going to nit-pick it to death? I mean, am I eating to merely sustain life? No. I'm eating because I f'in want to. F yeah! And F you, society (!), don't mess with my f'in body image! Glad I got that off my f'in chest...

At any rate, somehow I got to thinking about ice cream last night. I LOVE ice cream. I think my favorite kind of ice cream would be from Dairy Queen and it would be a banana split with chocolate, caramel, and strawberry syrup. Perfect. Or better yet a blizzard, but I can never decide what topping to get, so I always order a split because it's delicious and there isn't too much heavy decision-making involved. IF I do get a blizzard though, I really like their new waffle-cone variation. Supreme. But alas, I haven't eaten at a DQ since June. Oh, and if you ever eat at a DQ with "Hot Eats" you should try their cheeseburgers. They're really, really good for some reason. I also really like Coldstone Creamery ice cream...but, I'm sorry, the singing and the chanting? Stop it, that stuff makes me uncomfortable.

Oh, and I love cake. I borrowed some of my boss' hand lotion this morning and it was a butternut creme kind, and WOAH it smelled like cake. And that smell sent me back to like my 6th birthday party in which pictures reveal that only immediate family members were invited? I think it's because I didn't have any friends. Anyway, cake. Delicious. And don't even get me started talking about donuts. They're my all time favorite thing. I think I just talked about that not too long ago so I won't repeat myself. One would think I'm some fat blob but in reality I'm quite spectacular.

I should probably keep this blog interesting, I mean, apparently I have readers coming in from Norway, South Africa, Germany, Australia, and South America (hola, mambo, hoizit, konnichi wa, gutten tag, hei, hi--just giving an international shout-out, oh, and hey Mollz in Tampa, FL...I think 'hi' in your part of the woods would be, wassup ma hizzle nizzle grizzle bitch).

Anyway, back to the razzle dazzle, I was on the escalator today and I thought about the trauma that would ensue if I fell at any point in time. I seriously hate falling, and I hate when other people fall, too. Yes, sometimes it's funny, but in most instances it's traumatizing for me to see people fall. Not only is it humiliating, but it's also dangerous. I should form some kind of support group for people who have fallen in the public eye. If you fall at home--tough shit. Get up. But if you fall in a place where someone saw it happen, then I am here for you, pick a shoulder. One time I fell down about 7 rows of bleachers at a high school basketball game and I personally will never get over it. I mean, I had to get up and shrug it off as "stupid me, I'm perfectly A-okay, thank you, thank you, and for my next trick..." but in real life I was on the verge of tears thinking "oh.my.god how f'ing humiliating, and I think my legs are broke, how am I even going to get out of this gym?!?!?!?" I thought for sure that on my first step toward the exit my leg would snap in half and then I'd fall again.

Movie theaters make me relive the experience too because the potential of me tripping down the dimly lit stairs is SO high. Give me some light, movie people! Atleast if I fall it wouldn't be as bad because it'd be so dark that most people wouldn't see it and I could sort of crawl out the door or something. Ugh...

I really need to be on some kind of prescription drug for my anxiety in dealing with these semi-fictional situations. It's bad enough that I walk at a snail's pace everywhere I go in fear of falling, but what if there was a snake in my bed and it bit me repeatedly? Or what if a bug lunged at my face from on top of the refridgerator and it had 1,000 legs? Or what if when I close the bathroom medicine cabinet mirror I saw in the reflection someone standing behind me?

In any of those situations, I would die. My heart would stop, and I would die.

1-800-MEDS-NOW, ryansumner calling...

Daft Punk was booming in the background and I was listening to their lyrics...albeit there aren't typically many to choose from, but the lyrics to this one song in particular made me think a little. It went...

The primetime of your life
Now
Live it
The primetime of your life.

boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

Good point. I really, really think this is the "primetime" of my life and that I am living it. BUT, that's not to say that things aren't going to keep getting interesting in my life. This isn't a scenario where if I stay in one night or one weekend then I'm WASTING my life away, or something dramatic like that. It's just, how should I say it, if opportunity arises...take it? Or, maybe I should do the things that are in the back of my head saying "do me, do me, do me."

One of those "do me's" is to quit my job and travel the world for a year. I don't know if I'm quite ready to do that just yet...but I want to. I mean, this is coming from the same kid that has never even left the country. All the more tempting...

Anyone want to come with? I think the proper motivation could prove wonders.

Seven world wonders, even.

Update: Last night I dreamt about donuts. They were everywhere. And they had sprinkles. My favorite.

I promise this blog isn't going to turn into a dream journal, because...yeah, retarded. But I just wanted to share that because donuts hold a very special place in my heart.

And hips.

I thought I would kill some time and release some things that were on my mind...

Last night I was talking in my sleep at an ALARMING rate. For anyone that might have slept with me (the possibilities here are endless) then you may or may not have witnessed this before. For some reason I've been dreaming a lot lately...and the dreams are so vivid that I start talking out loud in response to whatever was happening in my dream. Then, in mid-sentence, I would wake up yet still keep saying whatever it was that I had to say...and with conviction. Like, I was perfectly conscious, but yet I still had to get it all out. Bouncing in and out of the REM cycle was not about to stop me from speaking my peace. It was really bizarre. And in many of these outbursts, I was literally scolding someone. Like, my finger was waving around in the air and everything. It was so so weird and I'm beginning to think that I have a problem. Oh god, once a long time ago I woke up hysterically screaming and crying (and I don't remember why) and my significant other at the time woke up and goes, "What the FUCK is your problem!?!?!?!?!"

Isn't that sweet?

So anyway, for some reason unbeknownst to me, that happened a lot last night (minus the significant other because that can was kicked to the curb many moons ago).

So, here's another story that will show you what a nut-case I am. Oh, side note, every time I try to type the word "results" it comes out as "resluts." Literally...like every time I type it, that always happens, whether I want it to or not. Well, I guess I wouldn't want it to...but you get the drift.

Anyway, so I'll let you into my life a little bit. Typically, Monday thru Friday I work out. Yes, I know, hard to believe. But I work out in the gym of my apartment building, where I'll lift weights or run on the treadmill or do the elliptical and so on. But before I go to that gym, I do some stuff in my actual apartment, too. I have this stretch band thing that I use to stretch with and a weight I use to do some minor weight lifting with and etc. So, to set the stage, one side of my apartment is like all floor-to-ceiling windows, and I keep the blinds all the way open because I'm on the 15th floor and I have a beautiful view of downtown Chicago and the lake and whatnot. So when I work out, I usually face the windows and look out just to like...have a visual. What's weird is that on the next block over from my building there are two other apartment buildings that face me...and these buildings are like 30-55 floors high. So when I work out I always feel like the residents of those buildings are watching me, because I can totally see into their apartments so duh, they can obviously see into mine. And I've always had the morbid idea of getting binoculars or a telescope or something and getting a little closer look at what really is going on in these buildings. BUT, I haven't done that and I probably never will. Because...creepy.

So anyway, who's to say that other people haven't ventured OVER that line and are actually watching me? You really never know. People do weird things in the privacy of their own home all of the time. I mean, hello, look at naked, fat guy on Friends. The Friends cast were all relatively normal people who watched this naked, fat guy do stuff in his apartment. Therefore, I always assume there is a CROWD of people watching me while I work out, and really, who could blame them?

Anyway, so while I'm working out I feel 10,000 eyes on me. So when I'm done working out and am getting ready to go to the 1st floor to go to the actual gym, I typically leave my door unlocked because I really don't want to take my keys with. I'm always afraid I'll forget them or lose them and then be locked out of my apartment. And I don't want to keep them in my pocket because if I'm running then they jingle annoyingly and if I put them in the little treadmill cup holder thing or whatever, I guarantee I'll forget them in there and then there will be that awkward moment where you have to come back and interrupt the person using the treadmill after you and so on and so forth...and yes, I really think about these situations. So, the easiest thing to do is to just leave my door unlocked...I mean, I'm not leaving the building or anything, so it shouldn't be that big of a deal.

WELL, low and behold, this creates another problem because when I'm working out I go into this complete zone of just thinking about things waaaay too much. So, mid bench press of 70 lbs, thank you very much, I start thinking...what if one of the crazy stalker people from one of the neighboring buildings that watches me in my apartment is SO crazy that they watch me, via high-powered zoom telescope, see that I left my apartment and that I didn't lock the door, and then while I'm in the gym downstairs, they somehow sneak into my building and apartment and hide somewhere really clever and then try to kill me when I come back!!!!!!!!!

RYAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!!!!! URGENT URGENT URGENT

OH.MY.GOD. So this thought consumes my entire existance and completely puts my workout to an end. I mean, the idea seems so smart and ridiculously clever, it has to be real. Then I thought, Ryan, you're just being crazy again. Stop it. So I was going to brush over the idea because I was obviously just over-thinking the entire situation, but then I started thinking again. I thought, okay, I can already see this as a Dateline special with Stone Phillips reporting..."Now for a tragic story--25 year old Ryan Sumner of Chicago would have never imagined that leaving his apartment door unlocked while he was out would be dangerous, but as it turns out, it ended up costing him his life. Here's how the story unfolds..."

And you KNOW you always hear segues like that on the news.

I mean, I couldn't be one of them--I saw it coming! Never ignore your gut instinct, right?! So I raced back up to my apartment...so scared, too...and frantically started checking in every closet, behind the shower curtain, under my bed and so on, completely expecting for someone to jump out at me and start stabbing me repeatedly.

My life is exhausting.

But obviously, I lived to tell the story...and many more to come.

What is wrong with me...

I just watched a video montage of a kid lighting farts.

I hate when people fart.



Especially on purpose.

People from Texas make me seriously ill.

First it was the Dixie Chicks. Now it's Jessica Simpson. I mean, seriously, does the word bandwagon come to mind in any of this? And it's not like it's just a couple of hicks hopping in their rusty pick-up trucks, shooting off their rifles, and hootin and hollerin about all of this bullshit...it's everyday people like you and I, except with an erratically deranged ownership of Texan principles and values.

The Dixie Chicks made one comment about what a dumbass Bush is (and yes, nowadays no one would combat that opinion) and were systematically crucified as being non-American, untalented bimbo sluts who needed to suffer financially and emotionally for their non-traditional beliefs and Texan disloyalty.

Wow.

Now, Jessica Simpson goes to one football game to root on her alleged boyfriend...who just so happens to be the ad-happy QB Tony Romo...where he has a shitty game and the Cowboys end up NOT being the best team ever, and it's her fault. Not Romo's, not the Cowboys', but Jessica's. Texas, once again, is banding together and is anti-Jessica because she's such bad luck, causing Romo to be "distracted" and single-handily cursing the team from EVER playing well again. Damn that Jessica!

Riiiiiiight.

I guess I'll be positive and look at the situation as Texas sticking to their loyal, good ol'boy belief system. Or something like that. If you mess with one of their own (oh wait, both Simpson and the Chicks are from Texas, I guess that doesn't help my point) then that's when they stick together and witch hunt! All in the name that is patriotic- and spurs-n-boots-related!

It's sickening.

Just because both GWBush and the Cowboys suck, doesn't mean it's acceptable, nor comprehensible to socially isolate the supposed evil-doers.

Does anyone get me? I mean...really. It's like they're the new KKK.

Don't go to Texas. I would even go as far to say don't have a southern accent.

Birds of a feather...

That brain.

Those scrubs.

The white.

Life

And death.

In your hands.

Weak in the knees.

Whether I like it or not.

I'm sitting in bed thinking...and yes, it's 9:45 p.m. and I'm already in bed...about stuff that I want. Here it goes:

-To be around my friends more often
-To work somewhere I love, not just somewhere that pays well
-To be around my family all of the time without the strain of travel and timing
-To learn what [sic] means because it drives me crazy that I don't know yet nor have I investigated
-To travel out of the country this year
-To step outside the boundries that I set for myself
-To be in a healthy, happy relationship with myself
-To try a new hairstyle
-To buy more shoes
-To stop buying things for my apartment, even though it makes me happy, so I guess I'm torn on this issue. Nevermind.
-To start reading books that I enjoy, and maybe, just maybe...start seeing movies more regularly. I haven't seen about...ohh, 93% of the movies that are in existance
-To learn how to get what I want
-To have a TV in my room because I hate falling asleep to the still of the night
-To stop drinking loads of wine at dinner and then black out at 10 pm when the real fun starts
-To find that perfect spare change bowl--all of my change is sitting on a shelf in my closet and it literally is driving me insane and I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and reflect upon how irritated I am about the whole situation
-To embrace fiction
-To stop reading Perez Hilton--he is the personification of unabashed, vile toxic waste
-To find the perfect pair of glasses
-To eat donuts more regularly and not feel horrible about it--if I enjoy it, then why not?
-To warm up to the idea that I'm getting older and more mature--it's scary
-To have a second dog
-To have the Will & Grace complete DVD collection--I love Karen.
-To come to terms with my average height
-To revel in the fact that I have the most amazing family and friends ever and to never, never take them for granted
-To sleeping less and enjoying the world more
-To kiss more babies--two new Sumners will be coming into the world this year
-To let go and let God
-To try new foods--so far so good
-To ask my Dad to pop popcorn more often because I know he loves the fact that I enjoy his homemade kind so much
-To ride an elephant
-To paint my own artwork and have it mean something
-To get ice cream more often
-To feel that feeling...you know the one
-To live
-To laugh
-To love
with you

and

-To be the best of me

This blog is really strange. I've had a range of people give a range of opinions about it.

My little blog-traffic-ticker tells me that, on average, my blog is visited over 172 times a day, and over 300 on the days I post something new.

I'm impressed, but also puzzled.

Sometimes people email or call me and ask what I was talking about, or whom I'm talking about, or what my point is...

This blog is for me. It's not my pulpit.

It's my window.

You come here for whatever reason, so enjoy.

Bask.

Don't fight it. And don't fight me because I'm sure to lose.

I'm a lover.

And like the great Carly Simon once said (or perhaps Janet Jackson if you're nasty)

You're so vain,
You probably think this song is about you...
Don't you?
Don't you.

It's so weird that LC and I have something in common: this is exactly what my conversations sound like after a couple glasses of cheap white wine...

I don't know how or why it happens, but it does sometimes.

You came unexpectedly, we exchanged, I saw you smile.

Like time hadn't lapsed, feelings weren't previously hurt, distance never grew.

The feelings were real. So real.

You didn't hesitate to make me feel close to you.

Because I did. Maybe too close.

If I only see you in a dream--that's okay.

It was nice.


Come back soon.

Hey yall it's Paula Deen and ta-day we're cookin up some southern-style grits-n'bits with a side of mashed pa'taters! Ooooh yall, it's gunna be so gooood!

Paula's accent is SO out of control on her show. Why do I know this? Because I'm watching the food network at 5:32 a.m. and I can't pull myself away from the force that is her accent. It's disgustingly moronic and makes people from the South seem REALLY stupid (that's assuming Southerners even claim her).

But what do I care, and more importantly, why am I awake at 5:33 a.m.? Weird story, brace yourself.

For starters, I'm in Galva right now. I've been here since the 22nd and will continue to be here until the 30th. That's a lot of quality family time, I know. I have this weird urgency to be around my family WHENEVER I can. We're like that.

So, I'm on vacation from work until the 3rd and am basking in all that is Christmas and laziness in G-ville until it's time to go back to Chicago.

Anyway, so a lot of "firsts" have happened to me during my time here in Galva. The first first is that I'm horrendously ill. Okay ummm....I'm NEVER sick. I'm always disease and bacteria free and whenever I do get sick it's a major, major event because it so rarely happens. AND if it does happen, it's always an illness that's to the EXTREME. Never a slight cold, never a cough, never a tummy ache. I don't even know what a tummy ache feels like. If my tummy has ever ached it's because I had severe food poisoning or was out-of-control drunk or a pesky thing I call liver failure. Other than that, I never have tummy aches.

Well, somehow I've managed to get the flu. It's been a veryyyy ugly scene and I have no understanding of how it chose me. I mean, no one around me has the flu and there's no plague going around Galva right now except teen pregnancy.

But somehow the flu manages to find me. And let me tell you, it's been an awful experience. Food has no meaning and water just adds to the drama. I feel like my stomach is a big cauldron that's brewing over the top, so whenever I drink water it just adds to the boil and makes things even worse. So yes, two of the main necessities to sustaining life hold no significance to me. I am, however, able to breathe so the whole inhale, exhale, oxygen thing has kept my pulse steady. Such a saving grace.

Another first is that I slept with my clothes on last night. It was a really strange experience. Some fam came over last night and we did even more gift exchanging and whatnot, so I thought it necessary to atleast make myself be presentable and fully-clothed, so I put on some duds, put some gel in my hair, and flashed the mirror a winning smile. Perfect. So I'm doing the whole scene when I start to feel like I'm going to pass out. So I get up, leave the party, go upstairs, and lay down in bed.

Um, I must have literally passed out in bed because I woke up 6 hours later. It was like 3 a.m. and I still have all of my clothes on. Does this bother me? Usually, but for some reason I was perfectly fine with the thought of having about 9 articles of clothing on, including shoes, and remained in bed. Every time I tossed and turned I thought to myself-THIS IS SO WEIRD. I HAVE ALL OF MY CLOTHES ON. DO SOMETHING.

In addition, the entire time my body felt like a drying sponge that desperately needed moisture in order to maintain a heartbeat. But do I get myself some water?

NO.

I can't move.

I'm drying up.

Plus, it was as hot as a bitch in my room because the heat was on full blast for whatever reason, so I was sweating out the last remaining beads of moisture I had in my body...probably due to the fact that I was fully-clothed and under about 90 blankets.

And the entire time all I could think about was:

A) Jumping into a pool full of orange Gatorade and electrolytes, and
B) the song, O Come All Ye Faithful.

I have no idea why that song was stuck in my head, but in my mind I kept belting out, OH COME LET US ADORE HIM!

So there I was, fully-dressed, drying up, incapable of movement, internally singing Christmas songs, and hosting a bladder full of urine that I was trying to overlook because if I even looked at a toilet I'd puke instantaneously.

About an hour ago I managed to take off all of my clothes. Does that excite you? It shouldn't because my body hasn't seen water, let alone soap in about 2.5 days.

Yes, these are the conditions that I allow myself to dwell in. My family is concerned and are probably contacting a priest as we speak.

Please let me be possessed, that would make much more sense.

Do you ever have one of those days where you feel completely ugly and inadequate?

Today is the day.

Kelly: I find it really weird that you have a scarf wrapped around your head like a hat.
Ryan: Old women don't find it weird!
Kelly: You're not an old woman.
Ryan: Well...the person on the elevator didn't find it weird either.
Kelly: It still sounds weird.
Ryan: You sound weird.
Kelly: I have to go.
Click.

There's always so much mumbo-jumbo about love being cold, warm, light, dark...it's stupid, really.

I sleep alone all the time and am constantly cold. Doesn't mean I'm without.

Buster keeps me warm.

I barely see the light of day anymore and it's always dark when I desperately need to see, but does it matter?

No.

The blue glare from my alarm clock pulls a double trick...a cold blue read but yet a bright light guide.

I turn the tone down so that I can sleep better, it's darker, but when I dream about snakes the leftover light helps me see that they're really not there.

Winter.

So blue.

And snakes.

So scary.

GUESS WHAT I JUST REALIZED?

I'm becoming a complete stalker. Yes, you heard it here first.

Why do I find myself watching other people's video facebook wallposts? Or is it Facebook video wallposts? Either way, they're not to me, they're not about me, and sometimes...I don't even know who the people are that are on them.

But do I watch them?

YES.

a;lksdfj

It's really a bad thing. These social networking sites are so out of control. Wait a second...I'M OUT OF CONTROL. That's the real truth.

I'm way too nosey for my own good. I need less information, people...less information.

Mind ya bizz.

What fun would there be in life if we never took any risks?

Let me restate that because it's painting an entirely different picture than my personal philosophy...

Okay, so, risks. I'm torn. Shit, I can't even restate that sentence because I can't make up my mind. I mean, I don't take risks. Ever. I hate them. If something sounds risky, I'm out. Usually...

I typically fear the unknown. I'm a scared, scared boy. But I'm also a man. I live my life day-to-day doing what I have to do to survive, and at some points, to be happy.

I also like knowing, seeing, experiencing new things. How would I get anywhere without being blind? I feel my way, I put myself out, I take a step forward. I'm there.

And it's good.

But to fly by the seat of my pants is a big mistake. I've learned it a time or two as of late. Bad idea. Super bad. Don't do it.

But I wouldn't be where I am today without assuming the risks I have in the past. Yes, it's been a sucky migration from the good to bad, bad to good, and yes, I just said sucky.

Are fate and risk related? Am I screwing with fate with every decision I make? What if I change my mind about things a thousand times? Does my fate remain untouched? Oh man, best of luck to me.

I hope I don't get hit by a bus.

I hate it when people fart in a bar.

That shit stanks.