Coming, going. Here, there. Moment one, moment two. All disconnected and all executed on whim and sheer circumstance. That’s not me. Where am I? What am I?
I often feel confused as to where I should be at in life right now, mentally and physically. Physically I realize I may have not found my home. I’ve found comfort, I’ve found safety. But I haven’t found mystery, haven’t found awe. I haven’t found what it is I’m looking for. Speaking of, in my head I wonder if I’m in the right place. You know, comfortable in my own skin. I’d say I’m close to 80%, fully realizing 100 is impossible, but 87 sounds really good, doesn’t it? The magic number. But is it just that, magical? An illusion? Am I foolish for feeling at an 80? Is a 50 more appropriate, more realistic? I’m unsure. I was talking to my bff about this yesterday. I reflected that I’m in a place different from him. I’m in a place that says do your research; think about things just a tad bit more than what you’re accustomed to. Living in the moment has it perks, agreed, but is that the world we live in? I feel like it’s not. Personally, my world takes planning and an ounce of initiative. No bulletproof vest can be found. A safety net, maybe. But that’s always Plan Z.
We then talked about bars. They've been under my skin lately. I go, but I don't often enjoy my time. It's not about the company--I enjoy my company. I also like to have fun, and sometimes I have plenty of it. But there's more to it than just a dog and pony show. There's a principle, somewhere, that's become void. I ask myself, what's the point? You don't find respect in a bar. Most times I don't respect the people in them. I don’t respect the process, I don’t respect the results. Nothing good comes out of a dark bar, a dark perception of interest. Not to mention a clouded perception of reality. In a bar, reality doesn’t exist nor does consequence. For some it’s an escape. I get that. But at the same time, is a bar where I should escape to? Some times yes. Most times no.
But I can look back and realize that fun was had. Although it’s still a slightly empty feeling. Nothing really came out of those experiences, except a time or two where bonds were strengthened out of sheer randomness. Heart-to-hearts, unforgettable stories…I do cherish a few. Still I feel sold-short. Maybe it’s because I’m turning 27, maybe it’s because I’m over dramatizing aging, maybe it’s because I over dramatize all aspects of my life. Anyone that reads this blog can easily realize that.
But with time only getting shorter, I think there’s more out there for me. Things undiscovered, feelings unfelt, too many experiences of inexperience. Simply put, I think there’s more to do. Exactly what, I don’t know yet. But it will come to me. Or I will go to it.
Eventually.
By golly I’m going to do something about it. Mark my words, ye of little faith.
I’m talking to you ryansumner.
4.17.2009
Oh, one more thing. I have some great blogger/vlogger friends that I think you should all check out. Tlaloc is an aspiring writer with much cred and much to say, check that stuff on out. Blogs, Vimeos, YouTube...it's shizzle. Also, mi amigo John is venturing into the blog-o-sphere for the first time, but is a long time YouTuber. Make sure to check in on what he's up to via all outlets. Pretty smokin.
Great reads.
Great reads.
Ahh, it's a beautiful day, people. Unbelievably, almost. A great day to be alive and a great day not to be at work. I'm taking advantage of both. Sleep when you're dead, right?
Right.
FYI, spottedby : ryansumner is on the up and up. I'm totally diggin it. I have an amazing and talented graphic designer working on the layout and I'm snapping things left and right that are either artistic, telling, or simply interesting. I'm completely stoked.
It's the freakin weekend yall. Enjoy it.
I know I will.
Right.
FYI, spottedby : ryansumner is on the up and up. I'm totally diggin it. I have an amazing and talented graphic designer working on the layout and I'm snapping things left and right that are either artistic, telling, or simply interesting. I'm completely stoked.
It's the freakin weekend yall. Enjoy it.
I know I will.
4.16.2009
Me + Red Vines & protein bars + The Bean + glorious spring day = work lunch.
PS This pic also doubles as the biggest and baddest method of snapping an ever-so cliche mirror and cell phone self-pic.
PPS The Bberry camera sucks ass. I miss my iPhone in that regard. Where is the clarity, WHERE IS THE CLARITY?
PS This pic also doubles as the biggest and baddest method of snapping an ever-so cliche mirror and cell phone self-pic.
PPS The Bberry camera sucks ass. I miss my iPhone in that regard. Where is the clarity, WHERE IS THE CLARITY?
Lately I've been going through this period of materialism and self-obsession. I've been thinking about spring and summer, wondering which clothes I want to buy that will look perfect on me and make me feel like a million bucks. What kind of trunks do I buy for the beach? Do I go with board shorts or slightly out of my comfort zone with above-knee trunks? A constant hem-haw over the gadgets I want/need, whichever comes first; I need a new Nano because my iPhone is on its way out the door, I have a new Blackberry that needs more GBs, I need new aviators because my last pair lost a screw and also because I've determined that aviators are the only type of sunglasses I feel comfortable in. I need new Diesels because, really, who could ever have enough? I really want new dining room chairs, the kind in the magazine that are totally Zen-perfection.
I also need to go to the gym because no one is going to want me if that t-shirt I just bought at American Apparel doesn't fit like a glove made in heaven. Should I wear my bangs up or wear my bangs down? I wonder what that guy does to have such great calves, I want great calves, my calves are so far from adequate I can barely look at them. Does this jacket square off my shoulders? My butt is looking great these days since, even though I hate it, I'm marching up those 32 flights of stairs to my apartment EVERY DAY, even if it kills me. My teeth are white but they could probably be whiter...American Idol white.
OKAY ENOUGH.
Luckily, I have the mindset that knowledge is power. I'm currently reading a book entitled "How to Know God" by Deepak Chopra. It's completely enlightening and fascinating and yes, I'm getting to know God. I'm beginning to see God in ways I never have before, and that's a relief. At the same time, I'm learning more about myself, the good and the ugly. At the forefront of this new found enlightenment, one passage in particular keeps buzzing my brain like a gnat on a terrorist mission:
Persons in power should be very careful of how they deal with a man who cares nothing for sensual pleasure, nothing for riches, nothing for comfort or praise or promotion, but is simply determined to do what he believes to be right. He is a dangerous and uncomfortable enemy, because his body, which you can always conquer, gives you so little purchase upon his soul.
Detachment renders the use of power impotent. The God of peace doesn't validate how good you are by giving you money or status. You validate yourself from within, and this equates with God's blessing. At this stage of inner growth, the power of going inward is veiled; there is a darkness and a cloud of unknowing. Yet somehow the pull toward spirit is real. For all the outer sacrifices, something seems to have been gained.
This excerpt was so interesting to me because I found it to be so true. We as human beings are extremely dependent upon material and ego to make ourselves feel safe, feel important, feel comfortable, but yet inwardly we are undoubtedly insecure and weak individuals. Duh, we should already know that by now, but do we? I don't think we do. Often, the world is our enemy because it can always defeat us. How so? We feel invincible, but we aren't. We don't like to think about it, but our world can crumble at any point in time, but will your soul crumble with it? More than likely. We can lose our jobs, our stocks, we can be ravaged by natural disaster and feel completely inadequate, we can be rejected by peers and feel like a hideous, undeserving beast. Why? They're all possessions, they're all status, they're all ego. And that's the problem. While our outer physical offerings and materials deem great value, our destitute souls lie in extreme poverty. Problem. At this rate, the only threat we pose is to ourselves. We masquerade a perfect, attractive, and seemingly happy existence but, at a conscience level, we know better than that. We can recognize our own insecurities, we just choose not to. We push it aside. But, our one brain is made up of two halves, you know, one half is creative and artistic and the other half relies on science and five senses.
Simply put, on some level, we know our shit stinks.
Deepak makes another interesting point when he says, You will learn a lot about human motivation once you realize one thing: 99% of humanity spends 98% of their time trying to avoid painful truths.
Essentially, that's why we live our lives outwardly. We build ourselves up on the outside because it's easy to. A lot easier. But inward we are nothing but shallow, searching, purposely peace-deprived, and uncertain. We can all have great bodies, but can we all have great souls? I don't know. Ultimately, until we can somehow learn to let go of the external and to depend on the internal to lead, to support, to affirm our existence...life, love, God, and peace will be nothing but words in your head.
Until then, your body will always be conquered. And your soul will be too weak to fight.
One thing is for sure: I have a long way to go. But like I said, knowledge is power.
I also need to go to the gym because no one is going to want me if that t-shirt I just bought at American Apparel doesn't fit like a glove made in heaven. Should I wear my bangs up or wear my bangs down? I wonder what that guy does to have such great calves, I want great calves, my calves are so far from adequate I can barely look at them. Does this jacket square off my shoulders? My butt is looking great these days since, even though I hate it, I'm marching up those 32 flights of stairs to my apartment EVERY DAY, even if it kills me. My teeth are white but they could probably be whiter...American Idol white.
OKAY ENOUGH.
Luckily, I have the mindset that knowledge is power. I'm currently reading a book entitled "How to Know God" by Deepak Chopra. It's completely enlightening and fascinating and yes, I'm getting to know God. I'm beginning to see God in ways I never have before, and that's a relief. At the same time, I'm learning more about myself, the good and the ugly. At the forefront of this new found enlightenment, one passage in particular keeps buzzing my brain like a gnat on a terrorist mission:
Persons in power should be very careful of how they deal with a man who cares nothing for sensual pleasure, nothing for riches, nothing for comfort or praise or promotion, but is simply determined to do what he believes to be right. He is a dangerous and uncomfortable enemy, because his body, which you can always conquer, gives you so little purchase upon his soul.
Detachment renders the use of power impotent. The God of peace doesn't validate how good you are by giving you money or status. You validate yourself from within, and this equates with God's blessing. At this stage of inner growth, the power of going inward is veiled; there is a darkness and a cloud of unknowing. Yet somehow the pull toward spirit is real. For all the outer sacrifices, something seems to have been gained.
This excerpt was so interesting to me because I found it to be so true. We as human beings are extremely dependent upon material and ego to make ourselves feel safe, feel important, feel comfortable, but yet inwardly we are undoubtedly insecure and weak individuals. Duh, we should already know that by now, but do we? I don't think we do. Often, the world is our enemy because it can always defeat us. How so? We feel invincible, but we aren't. We don't like to think about it, but our world can crumble at any point in time, but will your soul crumble with it? More than likely. We can lose our jobs, our stocks, we can be ravaged by natural disaster and feel completely inadequate, we can be rejected by peers and feel like a hideous, undeserving beast. Why? They're all possessions, they're all status, they're all ego. And that's the problem. While our outer physical offerings and materials deem great value, our destitute souls lie in extreme poverty. Problem. At this rate, the only threat we pose is to ourselves. We masquerade a perfect, attractive, and seemingly happy existence but, at a conscience level, we know better than that. We can recognize our own insecurities, we just choose not to. We push it aside. But, our one brain is made up of two halves, you know, one half is creative and artistic and the other half relies on science and five senses.
Simply put, on some level, we know our shit stinks.
Deepak makes another interesting point when he says, You will learn a lot about human motivation once you realize one thing: 99% of humanity spends 98% of their time trying to avoid painful truths.
Essentially, that's why we live our lives outwardly. We build ourselves up on the outside because it's easy to. A lot easier. But inward we are nothing but shallow, searching, purposely peace-deprived, and uncertain. We can all have great bodies, but can we all have great souls? I don't know. Ultimately, until we can somehow learn to let go of the external and to depend on the internal to lead, to support, to affirm our existence...life, love, God, and peace will be nothing but words in your head.
Until then, your body will always be conquered. And your soul will be too weak to fight.
One thing is for sure: I have a long way to go. But like I said, knowledge is power.
4.15.2009
Congratulations are in order.
The stupidest news story of the year goes to MSNBC for their rivoting piece on rappers who are downsizing their bling due to the recession.
Mhm.
The stupidest news story of the year goes to MSNBC for their rivoting piece on rappers who are downsizing their bling due to the recession.
Mhm.
4.14.2009
4.13.2009
I’m going to show you two emails. The first was written and sent by a young man from Iowa named Robert. His email, sent to a variety of friends, family, and acquaintances, was in regard to the recent gay marriage rulings in Iowa and later Vermont.
All:
The Iowa Supreme Court recently ruled that marriage is to be between two adults.
Reading the news and some of the comments from religious types and self-titled “holy roller” conservatives and that of progressive yuppie liberals on this ruling, I find it absurd that this issue has a right vs. left mentality. Having laws that discriminate against a minority of individuals is a law against humanity. The Iowa Supreme Court ruled that the standing law inhibiting two men or two women to marry was a breach on their civil rights and thus needed to change to ensure the disenfranchised gay community be entirely apart of the Iowa community.
This is a civil rights law that does not breach the Constitutional guarantee of the separation between Church and State. This will not affect the Church's rights guaranteed in the Constitution. The Church cannot be forced to marry gays and lesbians just as it cannot be forced to employ women or non-Catholics as priests.
It was not long ago that women were disenfranchised-sub citizens inside the United States. African Americans, less than 50 years ago had laws placed against their basic human rights.
Iowa, in the past, was a leader in the progressive movement, Iowa schools were desegregated 100 years before Brown v. Board of Education ruled that "separate but equal" was not constitutional, desegrating all US schools.
Iowa, was one of the first states to assure all men and women be guaranteed equal rights to public transportation, women to serve on juries and practice law, and one of the first states to make it a crime for businesses to refuse service to anyone based on their race.
While many states had laws making interracial marriage illegal, Iowa, due to its open marriage act, welcomed those in love to get married in Iowa just as we do today.
None of those land mark civil rights victories can be thought today as corrupting our American morals, even though prior to the equal rights laws taking affect, it was apart of our US culture and the American idea, that women were not considered human enough to vote or blacks were considered apart of a sub culture, and some Christians thought a white woman should never be allowed to marry a black man.
This new ruling by the Iowa Supreme Court does not infringe on your rights or inhibit you and your faith from going about its business. In fact it only ensures that all adult women and men have the right to marry the person they love.
The below link is telling and wonderfully elaborates the important history of Iowa's progress look on civil rights.
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2009/4/9/718107/-NY-Times-op-ed-all-should-read:-Iowa-Family-Values
Peace,
Robert
Now, the next email was sent by Robert’s soon-to-be father-in-law, named Brian. Brian sent a response email to Robert, as well as to everyone else that was on Robert’s original email distribution list. Brian had no qualms about sharing his viewpoint amongst a large amount of strangers, so I have no problem sharing his email with you:
Dear Rob,
It is with great sadness that I read your e-mail. God created marriage not the Government. Governments merely accepted it as right and legalized what God ordained. What this does is legitimizes their way of life, creating a platform to procreate through other peoples children since they cannot further their perverted lifestyle any other way...yes, they want your children, they have no other way of getting children to further their lifestyle. Surely you believe Gods word, Romans Chapter...perhaps you need to reread it. If they want a "life-partner" then let them live in their sin but to soil the sanctity of marriage so they can claim health benefits, make people recognize them, and raise children in their "wholesome ways" is just plain BS. Don't call good, evil and evil, good. I stand in opposition to your view point on this matter. I will however keep you in my prayers...may God make his will clearly known to you.
Love,
Brian
The following is my personal email response to Brian.
Dear Brian,
You do not know me, nor will you ever meet me. Long story, short: the reason that I know you is entirely due to the fact that you “responded to all” when replying to an email from your future son-in-law, Robert, that was sent to his family, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances, many of which you do not personally know. Your email was then, often in dismay, forwarded on to others, including myself. So, here I am. Since you had no issue with openly broadcasting your opinions with anonymous strangers, I have no issue with returning the favor. Here goes…
After reading your email, I could not stop thinking about what you had said. It haunted me. It nagged me. It really, really, really bothered me. When you said, “it is with great sadness that I read your e-mail,” I too encountered the same feeling, although I think my own sadness ran much deeper. Therefore I felt it completely necessary to respond to you, if only as a means to continue my life without having to think about you or your email ever again.
Robert’s email reflected a new found joy in state government: finally, expanded rights to all citizens. Legal, non-discriminatory rights now apply to a whole people, equally, and are not based on religious traditions or social norms. To him, it was a triumph worth celebrating or, at the very least, respecting (after all, Robert is heterosexual and therefore can claim little benefit from this ruling, other than it affirms what he personally believes is fair and just). Robert thoughtfully expressed his humbled gratitude toward both Iowa and Vermont for having taken proactive steps to legally incorporate marriage rights, both into and under the protection of the constitution, on behalf of all state citizens, including specific minorities, i.e. homosexual men and women. Full circle, every citizen now has the recognized right to be married under the law regardless of his or her race or sexual orientation. Finally.
This incorporation seems fitting, especially since each state is home to a plethora of races, religions, and sexual orientations. Obviously, not everyone is Caucasian, not everyone believes in the same God, or perhaps in God at all, and not everyone is heterosexual. Therefore, I can easily understand why Robert is elated that more and more state governments are choosing to protect and serve all of their citizens, not just the citizens the Constitution deemed “worthy” in 1787. The constitution is slowly being re-evaluated and adapted to consistently ensure that basic civil rights under legal law (not the law of your God) are barred from no one and that justice and opportunity are afforded to every one, equally, regardless of social prejudice or religious interpretation. That’s the real purpose of the constitution, right? To serve the people, not to serve God. God has his own constitution that you can choose to follow, or not. Let’s not get the two confused.
Concerning your open email, you are obviously a very religious man with a strong spiritual background. We have that in common––I was raised a good, Catholic boy all the way into adulthood. Even to this very day, I continue on a spiritual journey. While this journey may stray from my traditional, Catholic upbringing, my quest for spiritual enlightenment is stronger than ever. For your information, I wholeheartedly believe in God. However, my God is different from your God. Actually, my interpretation of God is extremely different than yours, the variance being that I do not fear my God and I do not live my life in hope of acceptance into heaven as an eternal reward. I also do not judge, demean, or prophesize hate against those whom are different from me or view the world differently. I do not know what religion you follow, but if your opinion on gay marriage (and gay people in general) derives from your religious studies, I can respect that. But at the same time, I can’t respect unabashed ignorance, superiority, and outright bigotry, all of which I perceived in your email.
Specifically, your condescending and dehumanizing religious perspective of homosexual men and women is absolutely horrifying and certainly not characteristic of the word of God. In fact, you carelessly refer to homosexuals as “evil.” Evil, really? A man loving another man, or a woman loving another woman…that’s evil? That’s not evil, Brian. It’s not evil at all, and I’ll explain why. You coin homosexuality as a lifestyle, as if it were a simple choice that men and women consciously decide upon at some point in their life. Let’s be real here––no one would willingly choose to be gay. If every one had the choice between being heterosexual or homosexual, no one in their right mind would choose to be homosexual or to live a “homosexual lifestyle.” No one would choose to be a minority, a second-class citizen, an outcast. No one would choose to be denounced, degraded, belittled, and shamelessly hated by an individual such as yourself, and plenty of others. Why would anyone purposely choose to torture themselves like that? In contrast, homosexuality is neither a choice nor a lifestyle--it’s a cold, hard fact of life. In all actuality, homosexuality is genetic, and we all know that you can’t pick and choose your genes, Brian. If it were possible, I’d be 6 feet tall, blond hair, blue eyes, and have the metabolism of an 18 year old. Unfortunately, I’m 5’9, brown hair, brown eyes, and I have to diet and exercise regularly in order to stay in shape. But that’s OK. I really like who I am. Back to my point, the same genetics that determine each person’s identity: sex, eye color, hair color, skin color, height, etc, also determines their sexual orientation. They’re one in the same. It’s a shame science has yet to factually prove this--our world will certainly be a much better place when it does. But in the meantime, much like the existence of God, you don’t necessarily have to see it to believe it, right Brian? You can’t prove God and I can’t prove genetic homosexuality, but that doesn’t mean neither exist. What I can guarantee you is this: no one chooses to be gay. I certainly didn’t. But that’s the way life goes, Brian. You can’t choose who you are. You are who you are. You are heterosexual, others are homosexual. It’s all a part of the world we live in and it will not just go away simply because you want it to or because you don’t believe in it. You can’t denounce the lives of millions of gay men and women just because you want to, because you choose to, Brian. Be reasonable. Honestly, religion is a choice. There are many religions to choose from as there’s no universal interpretation of God. Religion, and its teachings, is a belief system you choose to follow, or in some instances, a choice your parents made for you. And, at the other end of the spectrum, many people do not believe in a God at all. Plenty of educated and good-hearted individuals do not believe in God. Yet no one questions or denounces their motives, their existence on Earth. Weird, huh? Regardless, there are many different types of people, different ideologies, different perspectives in this country, Brian, so many that we can’t cherry pick who’s right and who’s wrong, but instead we can accept our differences and move on. Luckily, we’re all free to live our own lives as we see fit. Isn’t America great?
Yet, sadly, this country isn’t perfect. We live in a country full of greed, malice, murder, and mayhem. Considering such, it’s surprising that you compare actual evil to that of two men or two women expressing love toward one another. It’s simply ridiculous Brian. Actually, I take that back. It’s absolutely unspeakable that you would promote or suggest such blatant ignorance and bigotry. While your opinion is your own, and you have a right to it, you have no right (or reason) to project such hateful words and ideas directly into the lives of others. Our country needs less of that. Bigotry, intolerance, prejudice, hate…that’s what evil truly is--even an atheist and a Catholic can both agree on that. C’mon, Brian, you can’t be serious when you say gay people are evil. I certainly hope you were kidding. If you weren’t, you may want to reread the statements you made earlier, taking a closer look at the more-than-obvious seeds of evil you, yourself, planted into this world via email.
At any rate, gay men and women are slowly, case by case, being given the legal right to be married under the same state law that gave you the legal right to marry your wife. Your statement proclaiming “God created marriage” is only partially true. It’s only a true statement if you believe such. But what about the rest of us? What about religious people that believe in gay marriage? Is their religion wrong? What about heterosexual people who are non-religious, or even atheist, that are given the full legal right to be married, no questions asked? Is that a conflict of interest for you? It certainly should be. My belief is that God did not notarize your marriage certificate. In fact, I believe it was your local state government officials that validated your marriage. And, the last time I checked, the state notary didn’t work for God, but rather the state of Iowa. Regardless, while your version of what a marriage really is may vary from mine, one thing consistently remains true: a state government is the only entity that can officially recognize a marriage certificate. God and the church have nothing to do with it, legally. Our state governments do not have conference calls with the big man (or woman) upstairs. While I respect the fact that your God doesn’t support gay marriage, that’s fine, but we don’t all see God like you do, Brian. You can’t interject your God into my life. On the basis that I do not believe in the same God as you, that doesn’t make us (gay American citizens) less deserving, especially within a legal structure where the church is separate from the state. Therefore, people like your future son-in-law, myself, and many others across the nation can rightfully champion a state’s legal decision to no longer ignorantly discriminate against its own citizens. It’s a good thing, Brian, not evil. The sanctity of marriage can never be soiled if the marriage is based on two people loving each other. The right of marriage is about legally protecting two loving, committed individuals, and their family, regardless of their genetic makeup and regardless of outside religious perspectives that have no bearing within the marriage at hand. As the saying goes, keep your religion out of my marriage.
Hopefully, someday soon, you will learn that God is not a spiteful, vengeful Creator who would persecute homosexual men and women for expressing love toward one another. God is love, Brian, and I believe we are all created in a loving image of our maker; a God who created us with a purpose to promote goodwill and to spread love and acceptance onto others. That’s the God I believe in and that’s the life I lead.
I think that’s a respectable life worth living, don’t you?
For reasons unbeknownst to myself, your opinion reflects heaven as a place where only heterosexuals both belong and will be allowed into, is that right? If what you say is true, specifically, that according to your religious beliefs, homosexuals are nothing but greedy, child-stealing, perverted, immoral and evil demons…if that truly is your viewpoint, myself and millions of other good-hearted people on this Earth are doomed. Fortunately, I can find peace amid your hate. If what you say is true––I would rather rot in the fiery pits of hell than spend all eternity in a bigoted, self-righteous wasteland that you call heaven.
Obviously, I stand in opposition to your view point on this matter, but I will pray for your mind to be healed and your heart to be opened.
Sincerely,
Ryan
All:
The Iowa Supreme Court recently ruled that marriage is to be between two adults.
Reading the news and some of the comments from religious types and self-titled “holy roller” conservatives and that of progressive yuppie liberals on this ruling, I find it absurd that this issue has a right vs. left mentality. Having laws that discriminate against a minority of individuals is a law against humanity. The Iowa Supreme Court ruled that the standing law inhibiting two men or two women to marry was a breach on their civil rights and thus needed to change to ensure the disenfranchised gay community be entirely apart of the Iowa community.
This is a civil rights law that does not breach the Constitutional guarantee of the separation between Church and State. This will not affect the Church's rights guaranteed in the Constitution. The Church cannot be forced to marry gays and lesbians just as it cannot be forced to employ women or non-Catholics as priests.
It was not long ago that women were disenfranchised-sub citizens inside the United States. African Americans, less than 50 years ago had laws placed against their basic human rights.
Iowa, in the past, was a leader in the progressive movement, Iowa schools were desegregated 100 years before Brown v. Board of Education ruled that "separate but equal" was not constitutional, desegrating all US schools.
Iowa, was one of the first states to assure all men and women be guaranteed equal rights to public transportation, women to serve on juries and practice law, and one of the first states to make it a crime for businesses to refuse service to anyone based on their race.
While many states had laws making interracial marriage illegal, Iowa, due to its open marriage act, welcomed those in love to get married in Iowa just as we do today.
None of those land mark civil rights victories can be thought today as corrupting our American morals, even though prior to the equal rights laws taking affect, it was apart of our US culture and the American idea, that women were not considered human enough to vote or blacks were considered apart of a sub culture, and some Christians thought a white woman should never be allowed to marry a black man.
This new ruling by the Iowa Supreme Court does not infringe on your rights or inhibit you and your faith from going about its business. In fact it only ensures that all adult women and men have the right to marry the person they love.
The below link is telling and wonderfully elaborates the important history of Iowa's progress look on civil rights.
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2009/4/9/718107/-NY-Times-op-ed-all-should-read:-Iowa-Family-Values
Peace,
Robert
Now, the next email was sent by Robert’s soon-to-be father-in-law, named Brian. Brian sent a response email to Robert, as well as to everyone else that was on Robert’s original email distribution list. Brian had no qualms about sharing his viewpoint amongst a large amount of strangers, so I have no problem sharing his email with you:
Dear Rob,
It is with great sadness that I read your e-mail. God created marriage not the Government. Governments merely accepted it as right and legalized what God ordained. What this does is legitimizes their way of life, creating a platform to procreate through other peoples children since they cannot further their perverted lifestyle any other way...yes, they want your children, they have no other way of getting children to further their lifestyle. Surely you believe Gods word, Romans Chapter...perhaps you need to reread it. If they want a "life-partner" then let them live in their sin but to soil the sanctity of marriage so they can claim health benefits, make people recognize them, and raise children in their "wholesome ways" is just plain BS. Don't call good, evil and evil, good. I stand in opposition to your view point on this matter. I will however keep you in my prayers...may God make his will clearly known to you.
Love,
Brian
The following is my personal email response to Brian.
Dear Brian,
You do not know me, nor will you ever meet me. Long story, short: the reason that I know you is entirely due to the fact that you “responded to all” when replying to an email from your future son-in-law, Robert, that was sent to his family, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances, many of which you do not personally know. Your email was then, often in dismay, forwarded on to others, including myself. So, here I am. Since you had no issue with openly broadcasting your opinions with anonymous strangers, I have no issue with returning the favor. Here goes…
After reading your email, I could not stop thinking about what you had said. It haunted me. It nagged me. It really, really, really bothered me. When you said, “it is with great sadness that I read your e-mail,” I too encountered the same feeling, although I think my own sadness ran much deeper. Therefore I felt it completely necessary to respond to you, if only as a means to continue my life without having to think about you or your email ever again.
Robert’s email reflected a new found joy in state government: finally, expanded rights to all citizens. Legal, non-discriminatory rights now apply to a whole people, equally, and are not based on religious traditions or social norms. To him, it was a triumph worth celebrating or, at the very least, respecting (after all, Robert is heterosexual and therefore can claim little benefit from this ruling, other than it affirms what he personally believes is fair and just). Robert thoughtfully expressed his humbled gratitude toward both Iowa and Vermont for having taken proactive steps to legally incorporate marriage rights, both into and under the protection of the constitution, on behalf of all state citizens, including specific minorities, i.e. homosexual men and women. Full circle, every citizen now has the recognized right to be married under the law regardless of his or her race or sexual orientation. Finally.
This incorporation seems fitting, especially since each state is home to a plethora of races, religions, and sexual orientations. Obviously, not everyone is Caucasian, not everyone believes in the same God, or perhaps in God at all, and not everyone is heterosexual. Therefore, I can easily understand why Robert is elated that more and more state governments are choosing to protect and serve all of their citizens, not just the citizens the Constitution deemed “worthy” in 1787. The constitution is slowly being re-evaluated and adapted to consistently ensure that basic civil rights under legal law (not the law of your God) are barred from no one and that justice and opportunity are afforded to every one, equally, regardless of social prejudice or religious interpretation. That’s the real purpose of the constitution, right? To serve the people, not to serve God. God has his own constitution that you can choose to follow, or not. Let’s not get the two confused.
Concerning your open email, you are obviously a very religious man with a strong spiritual background. We have that in common––I was raised a good, Catholic boy all the way into adulthood. Even to this very day, I continue on a spiritual journey. While this journey may stray from my traditional, Catholic upbringing, my quest for spiritual enlightenment is stronger than ever. For your information, I wholeheartedly believe in God. However, my God is different from your God. Actually, my interpretation of God is extremely different than yours, the variance being that I do not fear my God and I do not live my life in hope of acceptance into heaven as an eternal reward. I also do not judge, demean, or prophesize hate against those whom are different from me or view the world differently. I do not know what religion you follow, but if your opinion on gay marriage (and gay people in general) derives from your religious studies, I can respect that. But at the same time, I can’t respect unabashed ignorance, superiority, and outright bigotry, all of which I perceived in your email.
Specifically, your condescending and dehumanizing religious perspective of homosexual men and women is absolutely horrifying and certainly not characteristic of the word of God. In fact, you carelessly refer to homosexuals as “evil.” Evil, really? A man loving another man, or a woman loving another woman…that’s evil? That’s not evil, Brian. It’s not evil at all, and I’ll explain why. You coin homosexuality as a lifestyle, as if it were a simple choice that men and women consciously decide upon at some point in their life. Let’s be real here––no one would willingly choose to be gay. If every one had the choice between being heterosexual or homosexual, no one in their right mind would choose to be homosexual or to live a “homosexual lifestyle.” No one would choose to be a minority, a second-class citizen, an outcast. No one would choose to be denounced, degraded, belittled, and shamelessly hated by an individual such as yourself, and plenty of others. Why would anyone purposely choose to torture themselves like that? In contrast, homosexuality is neither a choice nor a lifestyle--it’s a cold, hard fact of life. In all actuality, homosexuality is genetic, and we all know that you can’t pick and choose your genes, Brian. If it were possible, I’d be 6 feet tall, blond hair, blue eyes, and have the metabolism of an 18 year old. Unfortunately, I’m 5’9, brown hair, brown eyes, and I have to diet and exercise regularly in order to stay in shape. But that’s OK. I really like who I am. Back to my point, the same genetics that determine each person’s identity: sex, eye color, hair color, skin color, height, etc, also determines their sexual orientation. They’re one in the same. It’s a shame science has yet to factually prove this--our world will certainly be a much better place when it does. But in the meantime, much like the existence of God, you don’t necessarily have to see it to believe it, right Brian? You can’t prove God and I can’t prove genetic homosexuality, but that doesn’t mean neither exist. What I can guarantee you is this: no one chooses to be gay. I certainly didn’t. But that’s the way life goes, Brian. You can’t choose who you are. You are who you are. You are heterosexual, others are homosexual. It’s all a part of the world we live in and it will not just go away simply because you want it to or because you don’t believe in it. You can’t denounce the lives of millions of gay men and women just because you want to, because you choose to, Brian. Be reasonable. Honestly, religion is a choice. There are many religions to choose from as there’s no universal interpretation of God. Religion, and its teachings, is a belief system you choose to follow, or in some instances, a choice your parents made for you. And, at the other end of the spectrum, many people do not believe in a God at all. Plenty of educated and good-hearted individuals do not believe in God. Yet no one questions or denounces their motives, their existence on Earth. Weird, huh? Regardless, there are many different types of people, different ideologies, different perspectives in this country, Brian, so many that we can’t cherry pick who’s right and who’s wrong, but instead we can accept our differences and move on. Luckily, we’re all free to live our own lives as we see fit. Isn’t America great?
Yet, sadly, this country isn’t perfect. We live in a country full of greed, malice, murder, and mayhem. Considering such, it’s surprising that you compare actual evil to that of two men or two women expressing love toward one another. It’s simply ridiculous Brian. Actually, I take that back. It’s absolutely unspeakable that you would promote or suggest such blatant ignorance and bigotry. While your opinion is your own, and you have a right to it, you have no right (or reason) to project such hateful words and ideas directly into the lives of others. Our country needs less of that. Bigotry, intolerance, prejudice, hate…that’s what evil truly is--even an atheist and a Catholic can both agree on that. C’mon, Brian, you can’t be serious when you say gay people are evil. I certainly hope you were kidding. If you weren’t, you may want to reread the statements you made earlier, taking a closer look at the more-than-obvious seeds of evil you, yourself, planted into this world via email.
At any rate, gay men and women are slowly, case by case, being given the legal right to be married under the same state law that gave you the legal right to marry your wife. Your statement proclaiming “God created marriage” is only partially true. It’s only a true statement if you believe such. But what about the rest of us? What about religious people that believe in gay marriage? Is their religion wrong? What about heterosexual people who are non-religious, or even atheist, that are given the full legal right to be married, no questions asked? Is that a conflict of interest for you? It certainly should be. My belief is that God did not notarize your marriage certificate. In fact, I believe it was your local state government officials that validated your marriage. And, the last time I checked, the state notary didn’t work for God, but rather the state of Iowa. Regardless, while your version of what a marriage really is may vary from mine, one thing consistently remains true: a state government is the only entity that can officially recognize a marriage certificate. God and the church have nothing to do with it, legally. Our state governments do not have conference calls with the big man (or woman) upstairs. While I respect the fact that your God doesn’t support gay marriage, that’s fine, but we don’t all see God like you do, Brian. You can’t interject your God into my life. On the basis that I do not believe in the same God as you, that doesn’t make us (gay American citizens) less deserving, especially within a legal structure where the church is separate from the state. Therefore, people like your future son-in-law, myself, and many others across the nation can rightfully champion a state’s legal decision to no longer ignorantly discriminate against its own citizens. It’s a good thing, Brian, not evil. The sanctity of marriage can never be soiled if the marriage is based on two people loving each other. The right of marriage is about legally protecting two loving, committed individuals, and their family, regardless of their genetic makeup and regardless of outside religious perspectives that have no bearing within the marriage at hand. As the saying goes, keep your religion out of my marriage.
Hopefully, someday soon, you will learn that God is not a spiteful, vengeful Creator who would persecute homosexual men and women for expressing love toward one another. God is love, Brian, and I believe we are all created in a loving image of our maker; a God who created us with a purpose to promote goodwill and to spread love and acceptance onto others. That’s the God I believe in and that’s the life I lead.
I think that’s a respectable life worth living, don’t you?
For reasons unbeknownst to myself, your opinion reflects heaven as a place where only heterosexuals both belong and will be allowed into, is that right? If what you say is true, specifically, that according to your religious beliefs, homosexuals are nothing but greedy, child-stealing, perverted, immoral and evil demons…if that truly is your viewpoint, myself and millions of other good-hearted people on this Earth are doomed. Fortunately, I can find peace amid your hate. If what you say is true––I would rather rot in the fiery pits of hell than spend all eternity in a bigoted, self-righteous wasteland that you call heaven.
Obviously, I stand in opposition to your view point on this matter, but I will pray for your mind to be healed and your heart to be opened.
Sincerely,
Ryan
4.09.2009
I've always had this struggle with being sympathetic toward homeless people. I quickly pass them when they ask for money, I easily ignore their pleas for help. After all, no one knows their story, no one knows who they are or what their needs actually are. It's hard to associate sympathy with the unknown. I don't cry when reading the obituaries, so why should I feel obligated to give my money to a complete stranger, simply on the basis that they have a tough life? I don't know you, and I'm sorry that your life sucks but I don't owe you anything. I shouldn't feel bad about what I have versus what you do not.
Or should I?
Don't get me wrong. I'm humbled by the great life that I have. Fortunately, I have a great family, the support of friends, a great career, and what I feel is a good head on my shoulders. Does that make me better than the person on the street asking for money? No. We're all human beings. I just don't know you, I don't know your problems. But on the other hand, ignorance is not bliss. I can't just ignore a problem and assume it will resolve itself. I've come to terms with the fact that many homeless men and women have severe mental disabilities that prevent them from working, sustaining familial relationships, and being able to function within society. They're not all lazy deadbeats. Some are, but most are not. Most need actual help. And with Mayor Daley closing down several mental institutions in the Chicago metro area, many of the displaced individuals will turn to the streets. It's sad and disturbing.
While I can't give every street person my money or attention, I can do something. Anything, really. I have the time, ability, and desire to help the homeless. So why wouldn't I do it? I'm on it.
I've also decided that I don't do nearly enough volunteering in general. Sure I'll donate to charity every once in awhile, but that's the easy route. That's the typical, American route--solving problems with money instead of hard work, dedication, time, and commitment.
So, I'm trying to choose a volunteer avenue. I applied at Big Brothers/Big Sisters and there's a host of other opportunities I'm interested in, as seen below. Any Chicago readers may want to take note of some these great volunteer activities:
THE CHILDREN’S ROOM, at 69 West Washington, #3300, needs volunteers every weekday morning and afternoon for reading to children, creating arts and crafts and assisting with snacks. Minimum age to volunteer: 13. Maximum group size: 15. Contact Sylvia McCullum, 312-603-1945, SmcCull@cookcountygov.com.
COMMON PANTRY, located at 3744 N. Damen Ave., is looking for English and Spanish speaking volunteers to assist with food distribution on Wednesdays. Contact Debbie at 773-327-0553 or commonpantry@hotmail.com
DEBORAH’S PLACE, 2822 West Jackson, 1530/1532 North Sedgwick, 1456 West Oakdale, 4115 West Ogden provides housing for women who are homeless. They need volunteers for food preparation, cleaning projects, tutoring, special events and more. Minimum age to volunteer is 16. Volunteers 16-18 must be accompanied by an adult. Maximum group size: 10. Contact Sarah Letson, 773-638-6579. Web site: http://www.deborahsplace.org/.
INSPIRATION CAFE, pantry and soup kitchen at 4554 North Broadway, Suite 207, needs volunteers for food preparation, manual labor, administrative, computer, education, maintenance and special events on mornings, afternoons and evenings every day of the week. Volunteer orientations are twice monthly. Maximum group size: 20. Contact 773-878-0981, ext. 231, volunteer@inspirationcorp.org.
LAKEVIEW PANTRY (EAST SITE), 3831 North Broadway, needs English, Spanish, Russian, Korean and Romanian speaking volunteers Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday mornings and afternoons. Minimum age to volunteer: 18, unless accompanied by an adult. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Erin Stephens, 773-517-4813, erin@lakeviewpantry.org,
LAKEVIEW PANTRY (WEST SITE), 1414 West Oakdale, needs English and Spanish speaking volunteers for distributing food, manual labor, driving, assisting clients, translating, computer, window display design Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday mornings. Minimum age to volunteer: 18. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Erin Stephens, 773-517-4813, erin@lakeviewpantry.org
LASALLE SENIOR CENTER, locating 1111 North Wells, Suite 500, is looking for volunteers for food preparation/serving and volunteer drivers. Volunteers can come in for 1-2 hour sessions between 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Wednesday. There is also need for those who are willing to assist in driving a 14-passenger van once for day and evening trips to local grocery and retail stores. Contact Jan Kroeschell, 312-573-8841, jkroeschell@lasallestreetchurch.org.
LESLIE’S PLACE, a shelter at 1014 North Hamlin needs volunteers for preparing meals, driving, assisting clients, Tuesday through Friday. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Leslie Brown, 773- 342-8384, LesliesPl@aol.com.
NEW MOMS, INC., a shelter at 2825 West McLean, needs English- and Spanish-speaking volunteers for distributing food, assisting clients, child care and the staff store every day. Minimum age to volunteer: 16. Maximum group size: 10. Contact Brian Genzink, 773-252-3253, x33, bgenzink@newmomsinc.org.
REST SHELTER, 941 West Lawrence, needs volunteers for food preparation, administrative, medical every day. Minimum age to volunteer: 16. Maximum group size: 15-20. Contact Kari Aosved, 773-784-0909, kaosved@restweb.org
Or should I?
Don't get me wrong. I'm humbled by the great life that I have. Fortunately, I have a great family, the support of friends, a great career, and what I feel is a good head on my shoulders. Does that make me better than the person on the street asking for money? No. We're all human beings. I just don't know you, I don't know your problems. But on the other hand, ignorance is not bliss. I can't just ignore a problem and assume it will resolve itself. I've come to terms with the fact that many homeless men and women have severe mental disabilities that prevent them from working, sustaining familial relationships, and being able to function within society. They're not all lazy deadbeats. Some are, but most are not. Most need actual help. And with Mayor Daley closing down several mental institutions in the Chicago metro area, many of the displaced individuals will turn to the streets. It's sad and disturbing.
While I can't give every street person my money or attention, I can do something. Anything, really. I have the time, ability, and desire to help the homeless. So why wouldn't I do it? I'm on it.
I've also decided that I don't do nearly enough volunteering in general. Sure I'll donate to charity every once in awhile, but that's the easy route. That's the typical, American route--solving problems with money instead of hard work, dedication, time, and commitment.
So, I'm trying to choose a volunteer avenue. I applied at Big Brothers/Big Sisters and there's a host of other opportunities I'm interested in, as seen below. Any Chicago readers may want to take note of some these great volunteer activities:
THE CHILDREN’S ROOM, at 69 West Washington, #3300, needs volunteers every weekday morning and afternoon for reading to children, creating arts and crafts and assisting with snacks. Minimum age to volunteer: 13. Maximum group size: 15. Contact Sylvia McCullum, 312-603-1945, SmcCull@cookcountygov.com.
COMMON PANTRY, located at 3744 N. Damen Ave., is looking for English and Spanish speaking volunteers to assist with food distribution on Wednesdays. Contact Debbie at 773-327-0553 or commonpantry@hotmail.com
DEBORAH’S PLACE, 2822 West Jackson, 1530/1532 North Sedgwick, 1456 West Oakdale, 4115 West Ogden provides housing for women who are homeless. They need volunteers for food preparation, cleaning projects, tutoring, special events and more. Minimum age to volunteer is 16. Volunteers 16-18 must be accompanied by an adult. Maximum group size: 10. Contact Sarah Letson, 773-638-6579. Web site: http://www.deborahsplace.org/.
INSPIRATION CAFE, pantry and soup kitchen at 4554 North Broadway, Suite 207, needs volunteers for food preparation, manual labor, administrative, computer, education, maintenance and special events on mornings, afternoons and evenings every day of the week. Volunteer orientations are twice monthly. Maximum group size: 20. Contact 773-878-0981, ext. 231, volunteer@inspirationcorp.org.
LAKEVIEW PANTRY (EAST SITE), 3831 North Broadway, needs English, Spanish, Russian, Korean and Romanian speaking volunteers Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday mornings and afternoons. Minimum age to volunteer: 18, unless accompanied by an adult. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Erin Stephens, 773-517-4813, erin@lakeviewpantry.org,
LAKEVIEW PANTRY (WEST SITE), 1414 West Oakdale, needs English and Spanish speaking volunteers for distributing food, manual labor, driving, assisting clients, translating, computer, window display design Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday mornings. Minimum age to volunteer: 18. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Erin Stephens, 773-517-4813, erin@lakeviewpantry.org
LASALLE SENIOR CENTER, locating 1111 North Wells, Suite 500, is looking for volunteers for food preparation/serving and volunteer drivers. Volunteers can come in for 1-2 hour sessions between 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Wednesday. There is also need for those who are willing to assist in driving a 14-passenger van once for day and evening trips to local grocery and retail stores. Contact Jan Kroeschell, 312-573-8841, jkroeschell@lasallestreetchurch.org.
LESLIE’S PLACE, a shelter at 1014 North Hamlin needs volunteers for preparing meals, driving, assisting clients, Tuesday through Friday. Maximum group size: 2. Contact Leslie Brown, 773- 342-8384, LesliesPl@aol.com.
NEW MOMS, INC., a shelter at 2825 West McLean, needs English- and Spanish-speaking volunteers for distributing food, assisting clients, child care and the staff store every day. Minimum age to volunteer: 16. Maximum group size: 10. Contact Brian Genzink, 773-252-3253, x33, bgenzink@newmomsinc.org.
REST SHELTER, 941 West Lawrence, needs volunteers for food preparation, administrative, medical every day. Minimum age to volunteer: 16. Maximum group size: 15-20. Contact Kari Aosved, 773-784-0909, kaosved@restweb.org
4.08.2009
OK CNN, I can't take you seriously when your latest headline is:
"Pirates hold skipper; U.S. warship races to scene"
I fully realize the seriousness of pirates taking an American citizen hostage, but do you have to refer to him as the skipper?
We all know where our mind goes when reading that. For me, I envision Don Knotts with a sword to his throat, a parrot squawking at him, and a bunch of aargh's being tossed around.
*I realize Don Knotts was not the Skipper on Gilligan's Island. It's just what I envision. Work with me here.
"Pirates hold skipper; U.S. warship races to scene"
I fully realize the seriousness of pirates taking an American citizen hostage, but do you have to refer to him as the skipper?
We all know where our mind goes when reading that. For me, I envision Don Knotts with a sword to his throat, a parrot squawking at him, and a bunch of aargh's being tossed around.
*I realize Don Knotts was not the Skipper on Gilligan's Island. It's just what I envision. Work with me here.
Geez, is everyone sick of listening me talk about love or what? I'm so sick of listening to myself, I can only imagine what it's like on the other end. I assume pretty bad? Sorryz.
I'm washing it out of my hair as we speak.
Rinsed.
Repeated.
And now for some weird reason I want to say this:
You're not fully clean unless you're Zest-fully clean!
*I realize Zest is not a shampoo.
I'm washing it out of my hair as we speak.
Rinsed.
Repeated.
And now for some weird reason I want to say this:
You're not fully clean unless you're Zest-fully clean!
*I realize Zest is not a shampoo.
Test phase of the new BlackBerry starts today. Yes.
After going back and forth with the AT&T peeps about my lack
of service with the iPhone, I'm testing out a BBerry since my work
BBerry seems to do alright at home. If it works, great. If not,
back to the drawing boards with PlanB. (PlanB details will be released
upon potential activation. Stay tuned. Or not.)
But in the meantime, all my BBerry peeps out there, email me
your pin and lets start BBM'ing til the sun comes up.
Something else might come to me or happen today, but if not, this post
will have to suffice for today.
HAPPY WEDNESDAY, PEOPLE.
I love that someone would see a moose in the lake and actually call for help. That's reassuring. For some reason, I feel like most people wouldn't. Especially males. Is that sexcist of me? I guess this stems from the fact that this morning I noticed somebody's Facebook profile picture featuring a truck bed full of dead Canadian Geese that they shot. Said individual was obviously more than proud of his personal accomplishment(s).
Deleted.
Males suck.
After going back and forth with the AT&T peeps about my lack
of service with the iPhone, I'm testing out a BBerry since my work
BBerry seems to do alright at home. If it works, great. If not,
back to the drawing boards with PlanB. (PlanB details will be released
upon potential activation. Stay tuned. Or not.)
But in the meantime, all my BBerry peeps out there, email me
your pin and lets start BBM'ing til the sun comes up.
Something else might come to me or happen today, but if not, this post
will have to suffice for today.
HAPPY WEDNESDAY, PEOPLE.
I love that someone would see a moose in the lake and actually call for help. That's reassuring. For some reason, I feel like most people wouldn't. Especially males. Is that sexcist of me? I guess this stems from the fact that this morning I noticed somebody's Facebook profile picture featuring a truck bed full of dead Canadian Geese that they shot. Said individual was obviously more than proud of his personal accomplishment(s).
Deleted.
Males suck.
4.07.2009
Let me put it this way: if life were lived in the written word, I'd want to live in a pop-up book, not US Weekly. So begins my Facebook rant:
So, I just read a compelling article in the RedEye that appeased my "privacy" issues that I've been tackling as of late. I've mentioned a time or two thousand about how I'm leery of oversharing and overpopulation (as should the rest of the world) via Facebook. It's just too much information from too many people. In most cases, I don't need yours...you don't need mine.
A rehash of my issues being:
-Too many pictures I didn't personally take or post are flying around. That's a conflict of interest to me. GOD KNOWS WHO HAS ACCESS TO WHAT. Facebook is one, big ol' orgy. Everyone is sleeping with everyone, and we're all sharing the same bed. Virtually. The linking is unstoppable and I really don't want my mug and/or actions available for global perusal. I am a proud de-tagger.
-Too many people are accessing my info. Actually, let me be specific for a second--individuals that I do not talk to on a regular basis (or at all) somehow, and for some reason unbeknownst to myself, have full access to my shizz. The problem is, more than likely, these individuals probably have zero intention of ever calling me up to say hi, hows it going or proposing a trip to Panera for a cinnamon crunch bagel, sliced & toasted. So...then...what's the point? Let's be real for five seconds and call a spade a spade. You're not interested in me and I'm not interested in you...so let's just accept the reality of the situation, shall we?
-Too much of other people's personal information is clouding up my already overloaded brain. I don't need to know a lot/most of the stuff I learn via Facebook on a daily basis. OK...I admit I get all gossip girl whenever I read relationship status updates, but that's beside the point. Ultimately, I'd feel better off not having your dramz in my mind all day while I'm at work. I should probably be working...or at least pretending to work. Fair, right? I think so. After all, I'm always running into mental organization issues and I really think this is a proactive step in the right direction. Don't you? OK, good. Phew.
-Too many coworkers--we've all moved on to bigger and better, right? Its been 5+ years since I managed at Abercrombie...I don't work there anymore and hopefully you don't either. We could probably part ways and not really be affected by it, right? (Fear not: I do have some majorus importus friendus's from A&F and you specific peeps will never be banished. Just FYI.)
-Too many randoms. I'm partly to blame for that...I should have hit ignore in the first place...that is unless you're strikingly attractive. And if that's the case it's certainly not hurting anything for you to stick around. What's up? XO.
As such, today I cut about 100 people from my friends list. The people who were cut were either strangers, people I've had zero communication with over the last 5 years (even Facebook communication), friends of friends that really have no bearing on my life besides maybe a random party we met at but have yet to see each other since, people who I don't like but barely tolerate by having them as a supposed friend on Facebook, or just anyone else who, regardless if I friended you or vice versa...if we don't talk in the normal, 3d world we both supposedly live in, and we have yet to make any plans to do so, um...what's the point?
Let's not delay the inevitable.
Am I being insensitive? I really hope not. I'm just trying to be a real person in a very cyber-centric world.
Picture it, Sicily, 1932...what, A Golden Girls joke never hurt anybody. Plus, I thought we could all use a breather from reading. OK, better. Now let's resume!
Facebook friendships are flat. Non-tangible. Non-interesting. Who.really.cares?
Facebook has desensitized the word friend. A real friendship is not maintained via Facebook. I'm a very sensitive person and have come to realize that having 300+ friends on Facebook is doing absolutely nothing for me besides constructing a false sense of security.
Let's say something really bad happened to me...through no fault of their own (and I'm sure I'm guilty of this myself on many levels) how many of my Facebook friends would send me a card, show up on my doorstep, or make some other type of three dimensional effort? I'm assuming most would either A) not notice, B) not care enough to say anything, or C) leave an empathetic wall post in reference to said unfortunate incident.
I can go without that kind of sentiment. Lets get back to basics. Quality over quantity, yada yada. I think its important for us as human beings to once again qualify personal, sincere efforts that are derived from reality, not virtual reality.
And one more thing: I'm not a numbers guy. High, low...whatever. Who cares, really? I don't need my friend count to be some absurdly large number. It doesn't mean anything. And I'm not impressed by other people's Facebook friend-age either, in fact, it's almost the opposite effect. The higher the number, the more suspicious I am of you. What are you really after? Are you just that cool?
I'm certainly not. And no amount of Facebook delusion would make me any cooler nor would it make me feel any cooler. I'm perfectly OK with being uncool. Perfectly OK.
Anyway, like I said, I made some massive cuts and will probably continue to do so until I'm inclined to assume that everyone on my friends list has a reason to be there.
Disclaimer: If we were Facebook friends and you notice we aren't any longer...it's nothing personal. I swear. We're cool.
It's not you, it's me.
So, I just read a compelling article in the RedEye that appeased my "privacy" issues that I've been tackling as of late. I've mentioned a time or two thousand about how I'm leery of oversharing and overpopulation (as should the rest of the world) via Facebook. It's just too much information from too many people. In most cases, I don't need yours...you don't need mine.
A rehash of my issues being:
-Too many pictures I didn't personally take or post are flying around. That's a conflict of interest to me. GOD KNOWS WHO HAS ACCESS TO WHAT. Facebook is one, big ol' orgy. Everyone is sleeping with everyone, and we're all sharing the same bed. Virtually. The linking is unstoppable and I really don't want my mug and/or actions available for global perusal. I am a proud de-tagger.
-Too many people are accessing my info. Actually, let me be specific for a second--individuals that I do not talk to on a regular basis (or at all) somehow, and for some reason unbeknownst to myself, have full access to my shizz. The problem is, more than likely, these individuals probably have zero intention of ever calling me up to say hi, hows it going or proposing a trip to Panera for a cinnamon crunch bagel, sliced & toasted. So...then...what's the point? Let's be real for five seconds and call a spade a spade. You're not interested in me and I'm not interested in you...so let's just accept the reality of the situation, shall we?
-Too much of other people's personal information is clouding up my already overloaded brain. I don't need to know a lot/most of the stuff I learn via Facebook on a daily basis. OK...I admit I get all gossip girl whenever I read relationship status updates, but that's beside the point. Ultimately, I'd feel better off not having your dramz in my mind all day while I'm at work. I should probably be working...or at least pretending to work. Fair, right? I think so. After all, I'm always running into mental organization issues and I really think this is a proactive step in the right direction. Don't you? OK, good. Phew.
-Too many coworkers--we've all moved on to bigger and better, right? Its been 5+ years since I managed at Abercrombie...I don't work there anymore and hopefully you don't either. We could probably part ways and not really be affected by it, right? (Fear not: I do have some majorus importus friendus's from A&F and you specific peeps will never be banished. Just FYI.)
-Too many randoms. I'm partly to blame for that...I should have hit ignore in the first place...that is unless you're strikingly attractive. And if that's the case it's certainly not hurting anything for you to stick around. What's up? XO.
As such, today I cut about 100 people from my friends list. The people who were cut were either strangers, people I've had zero communication with over the last 5 years (even Facebook communication), friends of friends that really have no bearing on my life besides maybe a random party we met at but have yet to see each other since, people who I don't like but barely tolerate by having them as a supposed friend on Facebook, or just anyone else who, regardless if I friended you or vice versa...if we don't talk in the normal, 3d world we both supposedly live in, and we have yet to make any plans to do so, um...what's the point?
Let's not delay the inevitable.
Am I being insensitive? I really hope not. I'm just trying to be a real person in a very cyber-centric world.
Picture it, Sicily, 1932...what, A Golden Girls joke never hurt anybody. Plus, I thought we could all use a breather from reading. OK, better. Now let's resume!
Facebook friendships are flat. Non-tangible. Non-interesting. Who.really.cares?
Facebook has desensitized the word friend. A real friendship is not maintained via Facebook. I'm a very sensitive person and have come to realize that having 300+ friends on Facebook is doing absolutely nothing for me besides constructing a false sense of security.
Let's say something really bad happened to me...through no fault of their own (and I'm sure I'm guilty of this myself on many levels) how many of my Facebook friends would send me a card, show up on my doorstep, or make some other type of three dimensional effort? I'm assuming most would either A) not notice, B) not care enough to say anything, or C) leave an empathetic wall post in reference to said unfortunate incident.
I can go without that kind of sentiment. Lets get back to basics. Quality over quantity, yada yada. I think its important for us as human beings to once again qualify personal, sincere efforts that are derived from reality, not virtual reality.
And one more thing: I'm not a numbers guy. High, low...whatever. Who cares, really? I don't need my friend count to be some absurdly large number. It doesn't mean anything. And I'm not impressed by other people's Facebook friend-age either, in fact, it's almost the opposite effect. The higher the number, the more suspicious I am of you. What are you really after? Are you just that cool?
I'm certainly not. And no amount of Facebook delusion would make me any cooler nor would it make me feel any cooler. I'm perfectly OK with being uncool. Perfectly OK.
Anyway, like I said, I made some massive cuts and will probably continue to do so until I'm inclined to assume that everyone on my friends list has a reason to be there.
Disclaimer: If we were Facebook friends and you notice we aren't any longer...it's nothing personal. I swear. We're cool.
It's not you, it's me.
A bright, sunshiney morning and this wonderful iReport together have started my day on the right foot.
GOOD MORNING WORLD.
GOOD MORNING WORLD.
4.06.2009
Oh, and with much fret and fear, I made myself a protein shake for the first time in a long time. The fear of unending stomach cramping plagued my dreams but I had to experiment to prove my theory, that being I was either allergic to something in the egg-based protein powder or was just ultra-sensitive to the new protein. So, back to Designer whey and.....
I WAS RIGHT!
No stomach cramping. No impending death.
Suhweet.
I WAS RIGHT!
No stomach cramping. No impending death.
Suhweet.
I'm going to keep this short and sweet. I think. We'll see what happens.
Something that has been on my mind lately is the word unconditional. This word is becoming more and more relevant to me considering I've lived almost my entire life under a conditional mindset.
I'm speaking entirely about attraction, love, and committment. Through conversations with others, and then subsequent conversations with myself, it dawned on me the other day that I exclusively date/seek those that are my type. Yes, cliche, I know. But we all have a type, right?
After all, I know what I want, or at least I know what I'm attracted to.
Sort of.
I also know what I'm not attracted to.
Sort of.
Oh yeah...and that grey area. An area that says "Hey, wait a second. Something's different, but a good different. That person might not have the perfect nose, the best butt, or a hot sense of style...but that person makes me feel good. That person treats me right. That person cares about me. That person offers me the world. That person could be my person."
But uf, that hair? Really?
Bad Ryan, bad.
I always felt that conditions needed to be met before I could fall in love with anyone. How could I possibly fall in love with someone that doesn't take my breath away? Isn't that how love works?
Mindset: Are you my type? Body/buck check. Hm, approved. Ok, let's go on a date.
Fast-forward one month later and oh, surprise surprise, turns out you're a freak. A hot freak, but a freak. That's too bad. Next. Another month, another freak. All hot freaks, but still freaks.
Year in, year out. That's what happens. Freaks. Hot freaks. But freaks.
Am I making my point?
Last night I went back in time 10 years and realized that the people I've had the most amazing experiences with and established a close, meaningful, and lasting bond were with individuals typically not meeting my conditions.
Yet somehow, even though my standards were not appeased, something was OK about it all. No, no...something was really great about it all. About this specific, amazing person. Something beyond the physical, material world.
Something real.
I now know those relationships were unconditional. It didn't matter what they looked like or what they dressed in, or how tall, skinny, fat, loud, quiet, smart, or whatever else...there was something bigger than all of that. Something much more important. There was a bond. There was a connection. Two-sided, too--that person felt the same way about me. Our relationship was about who we were, and what we meant to each other. Not who we appear to be to the untrained eye.
And for once
I felt happy.
I felt comfortable.
I felt safe.
I felt beautiful.
I felt alive.
I felt loved.
I felt real.
And at some point, that all clicked in my head. I stepped back and said to myself "Ryan...this person is amazing, inside and out. Value them."
And to this day I still value most of those people and I think about them often.
Their conditional offerings are still on the backburner. Maybe the years haven't been good to them. Maybe they look different now. But it doesn't matter. I miss how they made me feel. I miss how close we were. I miss them. Sometimes, so much.
These relationships certainly trump any of the encounters I've had in the recent past with my conditional checklist sizzling on the frontburner.
Forget that.
Keep an unconditional mindset, Ryan. It's so, so extremely important.
Value someone for who they actually are, and what they actually offer you. Long term. Today, tomorrow, and maybe...just maybe, forever.
It's the only way you'll pair your soul.
Something that has been on my mind lately is the word unconditional. This word is becoming more and more relevant to me considering I've lived almost my entire life under a conditional mindset.
I'm speaking entirely about attraction, love, and committment. Through conversations with others, and then subsequent conversations with myself, it dawned on me the other day that I exclusively date/seek those that are my type. Yes, cliche, I know. But we all have a type, right?
After all, I know what I want, or at least I know what I'm attracted to.
Sort of.
I also know what I'm not attracted to.
Sort of.
Oh yeah...and that grey area. An area that says "Hey, wait a second. Something's different, but a good different. That person might not have the perfect nose, the best butt, or a hot sense of style...but that person makes me feel good. That person treats me right. That person cares about me. That person offers me the world. That person could be my person."
But uf, that hair? Really?
Bad Ryan, bad.
I always felt that conditions needed to be met before I could fall in love with anyone. How could I possibly fall in love with someone that doesn't take my breath away? Isn't that how love works?
Mindset: Are you my type? Body/buck check. Hm, approved. Ok, let's go on a date.
Fast-forward one month later and oh, surprise surprise, turns out you're a freak. A hot freak, but a freak. That's too bad. Next. Another month, another freak. All hot freaks, but still freaks.
Year in, year out. That's what happens. Freaks. Hot freaks. But freaks.
Am I making my point?
Last night I went back in time 10 years and realized that the people I've had the most amazing experiences with and established a close, meaningful, and lasting bond were with individuals typically not meeting my conditions.
Yet somehow, even though my standards were not appeased, something was OK about it all. No, no...something was really great about it all. About this specific, amazing person. Something beyond the physical, material world.
Something real.
I now know those relationships were unconditional. It didn't matter what they looked like or what they dressed in, or how tall, skinny, fat, loud, quiet, smart, or whatever else...there was something bigger than all of that. Something much more important. There was a bond. There was a connection. Two-sided, too--that person felt the same way about me. Our relationship was about who we were, and what we meant to each other. Not who we appear to be to the untrained eye.
And for once
I felt happy.
I felt comfortable.
I felt safe.
I felt beautiful.
I felt alive.
I felt loved.
I felt real.
And at some point, that all clicked in my head. I stepped back and said to myself "Ryan...this person is amazing, inside and out. Value them."
And to this day I still value most of those people and I think about them often.
Their conditional offerings are still on the backburner. Maybe the years haven't been good to them. Maybe they look different now. But it doesn't matter. I miss how they made me feel. I miss how close we were. I miss them. Sometimes, so much.
These relationships certainly trump any of the encounters I've had in the recent past with my conditional checklist sizzling on the frontburner.
Forget that.
Keep an unconditional mindset, Ryan. It's so, so extremely important.
Value someone for who they actually are, and what they actually offer you. Long term. Today, tomorrow, and maybe...just maybe, forever.
It's the only way you'll pair your soul.
4.02.2009
So...today I protested Chicago's bid for the 2016 Olympic Games. I've already explained the reasoning behind my anti-position in another post, so I won't go into that.
But I will say this:
I took a bus from work to the Federal Plaza, expecting to arrive at something cool, compelling, and powerful. Well, when I stepped off the bus, I noticed plenty of protesters, heard plenty of protest rants, and was happy to observe plenty of news publicity...
but I couldn't help but notice something else:
EVERY, SINGLE OLYMPICS PROTESTER WAS A COMPLETE WEIRDO.
And when I say complete weirdo I mean WEIRDUS MAXIMUS SUPREMUS.
I'm not thinking I'm some slick, cool-ass mf'er that's better than everyone else. I'm not saying that at all. I have a very average approach to life. But I couldn't help but make a physical judgment that everyone protesting was, like...different. There weren't any average Joes. No average Janes. There wasn't one average, everyday-looking person there. Whether it be some weird, unexplainable outfit, or an eccentric hairdo, or just a weirdo personality saying weird things and acting all weird-like. Everyone was weird.
Weird was the word for EVERY aspect of the entire protest. No protester came across as being a sane individual with a strong opinion.
So I'm standing amid all of these weirdos holding signs and shouting things...and I kind of got really embarrassed...like, okay am I TOO a weirdo? I'm here after all...but not at the same time. I almost felt like I didn't belong...not because they didn't fit in with me, but because I didn't fit in with them.
And wait, we're all here for the same reason, so am I just as weird as all of these other people? Is our anti-Olympic opinion SO out of the ordinary? What is going on, where are normal looking people...where is one normal looking person?
Nowhere. Not one. All the normal people were on the outside looking in.
I couldn't understand what was going on.
So I stood around for 10 more minutes, signed some petitions...and slowly crept out of the scene. Got on the El...and went home. To the comfort of my living room where I could watch the weirdos protest on TV.
Is that bad?
Am I bad?
At least I voiced my opinion...allbeit a weird one. Apparently.
But I will say this:
I took a bus from work to the Federal Plaza, expecting to arrive at something cool, compelling, and powerful. Well, when I stepped off the bus, I noticed plenty of protesters, heard plenty of protest rants, and was happy to observe plenty of news publicity...
but I couldn't help but notice something else:
EVERY, SINGLE OLYMPICS PROTESTER WAS A COMPLETE WEIRDO.
And when I say complete weirdo I mean WEIRDUS MAXIMUS SUPREMUS.
I'm not thinking I'm some slick, cool-ass mf'er that's better than everyone else. I'm not saying that at all. I have a very average approach to life. But I couldn't help but make a physical judgment that everyone protesting was, like...different. There weren't any average Joes. No average Janes. There wasn't one average, everyday-looking person there. Whether it be some weird, unexplainable outfit, or an eccentric hairdo, or just a weirdo personality saying weird things and acting all weird-like. Everyone was weird.
Weird was the word for EVERY aspect of the entire protest. No protester came across as being a sane individual with a strong opinion.
So I'm standing amid all of these weirdos holding signs and shouting things...and I kind of got really embarrassed...like, okay am I TOO a weirdo? I'm here after all...but not at the same time. I almost felt like I didn't belong...not because they didn't fit in with me, but because I didn't fit in with them.
And wait, we're all here for the same reason, so am I just as weird as all of these other people? Is our anti-Olympic opinion SO out of the ordinary? What is going on, where are normal looking people...where is one normal looking person?
Nowhere. Not one. All the normal people were on the outside looking in.
I couldn't understand what was going on.
So I stood around for 10 more minutes, signed some petitions...and slowly crept out of the scene. Got on the El...and went home. To the comfort of my living room where I could watch the weirdos protest on TV.
Is that bad?
Am I bad?
At least I voiced my opinion...allbeit a weird one. Apparently.
4.01.2009
Today's post is about my intestines and stomach. Yay!
So, I've been having issues lately.
I know, right? This post is amazing. Anyway, my stomach has been cramping something serious for the last week. Like, completely debilitating: can't move, can't think, the world stops spinning, agonizing, fetal position only-type debilitation.
At first I thought I was pregnant. Remember me talking about feeling nauseous every single morning? It was really weird. But, as it turns out, I'm not pregnant.
So later I thought I had the flu. After all, my Mom just had the flu and I was indeed home for quite some time with her, so I thought for sure she inadvertently planted that nasty bug right into my unsuspecting blood stream, which was just minding its own business, flowing and sustaining life as normal, which fully explains why my stomach was being so ultra-sensitive. I needed to just rest and it would eventually go away.
But it didn't go away. This stomach thing would come and go like a prostitute. Most times I would feel completely normal, other times I'd be on my knees.
In pain, though.
So then I blamed it on some Jewel-Osco chicken breasts I had bought earlier in the week. Upon opening the slimey chicken meat, I noticed it smelled kind of funky in its raw state. But, to no surprise of my own, I easily threw caution into the wind by cooking and eating it despite the questionable funk.
So, for sure, I was experiencing a mild form of food poisoning.
Wrong again. The pain persisted again the next morning, went away, then again at night. It was a daily basis, regularly scheduled event of painstaking proportions.
So, last night, after my latest bout of internal "vice grip" stomach cramps, I did some research: stomach ulcers. It made perfect sense (just like all of my other suspicions): I had been under a tremendous amount of stress and I'm sure an increase in stomach acid had dissolved an area of stomach lining and that my stomach pains came from the sizzling fry of each acid droplet dripping onto my pink, sensitive stomach flesh. I imagined it to be the same as when the mean weasels on Who Framed Roger Rabbit dipped that poor, innocent shoe creature into a vat of green acid.
But throughout the night, whilst in the fetal position, I thought some more: the symptoms I was experiencing weren't exactly in line with that of a stomach ulcer. Even I, Mr. I-can-turn-fiction-into-fact, couldn't stretch my real symptoms into that of something as serious as an ulcer or gastrointestinal failure. So then I got to thinking...OK Ryan, you've made every prediction under the sun about why and how you are having stomach failure on a daily basis. Put the pieces together for the love of GOD. Plus, you don't want to go to a specialty doctor and have him shove a cold, metal camera up your yoohoo, especially considering you've never even met him before.
Think, Ryan, think...
Hmm.
Thinking...
Wait a tic...there's a common thread here, somewhere, I know it. OK, so what's the last thing you eat before you experience stomach cramps? What's something you eat both in the morning (pregnancy ruled out for various reasons), after you came back from being at home (because you weren't feeling sick when you were there), after the chicken breasts, and at night before you go to bed?
HMMMMMM.........
DING DING DING.
Protein Shakes.
Here's the story: I have two protein shakes every day. One in the morning for breakfast and one after I work out at night. I usually use Designer Whey, Strawberry flavor. But, upon running out of it when I was in Wisconsin, I found a cheapo version of strawberry protein whey at Wal-Mart and bought it on the spot! I was loving Wal-Mart at the time, sorry. Anyway, so that protein turned out to be absolutely disgusting (gritty and foul tasting) but I kept drinking it anyway because I had a Sam's Club-sized vat of it to use up. That's when I started noticing the stomach issues but never associated it with the whey because I've been taking whey for quite awhile. However, when I was at my parents' house for a little R&R, I didn't take any protein whey and felt perfectly fine the whole time I was there. THEN, upon my return to Chicago, my roommate bought some egg-based protein and recommended I try it because it was supposedly a better alternative to whey. Well I tried that and sure enough, back come the stomach pains but times 1,000,000. Smartly, I then went and bought some of my own egg-based protein and drank it every morning and night...with each gulp inducing a rage against the machine that is my stomach/entire body.
So, long story short, I think my stomach is sensitive to the switching and types of protein I've been guzzling. So, the social experiment is to clear out my system of protein supplements for 2 days, monitor my stomach conditions, after that buy some Designer whey, eat as normal, and then monitor conditions after that.
I'll be sure to let you know how things turn out. I know you'll be here, patiently waiting.
So, I've been having issues lately.
I know, right? This post is amazing. Anyway, my stomach has been cramping something serious for the last week. Like, completely debilitating: can't move, can't think, the world stops spinning, agonizing, fetal position only-type debilitation.
At first I thought I was pregnant. Remember me talking about feeling nauseous every single morning? It was really weird. But, as it turns out, I'm not pregnant.
So later I thought I had the flu. After all, my Mom just had the flu and I was indeed home for quite some time with her, so I thought for sure she inadvertently planted that nasty bug right into my unsuspecting blood stream, which was just minding its own business, flowing and sustaining life as normal, which fully explains why my stomach was being so ultra-sensitive. I needed to just rest and it would eventually go away.
But it didn't go away. This stomach thing would come and go like a prostitute. Most times I would feel completely normal, other times I'd be on my knees.
In pain, though.
So then I blamed it on some Jewel-Osco chicken breasts I had bought earlier in the week. Upon opening the slimey chicken meat, I noticed it smelled kind of funky in its raw state. But, to no surprise of my own, I easily threw caution into the wind by cooking and eating it despite the questionable funk.
So, for sure, I was experiencing a mild form of food poisoning.
Wrong again. The pain persisted again the next morning, went away, then again at night. It was a daily basis, regularly scheduled event of painstaking proportions.
So, last night, after my latest bout of internal "vice grip" stomach cramps, I did some research: stomach ulcers. It made perfect sense (just like all of my other suspicions): I had been under a tremendous amount of stress and I'm sure an increase in stomach acid had dissolved an area of stomach lining and that my stomach pains came from the sizzling fry of each acid droplet dripping onto my pink, sensitive stomach flesh. I imagined it to be the same as when the mean weasels on Who Framed Roger Rabbit dipped that poor, innocent shoe creature into a vat of green acid.
But throughout the night, whilst in the fetal position, I thought some more: the symptoms I was experiencing weren't exactly in line with that of a stomach ulcer. Even I, Mr. I-can-turn-fiction-into-fact, couldn't stretch my real symptoms into that of something as serious as an ulcer or gastrointestinal failure. So then I got to thinking...OK Ryan, you've made every prediction under the sun about why and how you are having stomach failure on a daily basis. Put the pieces together for the love of GOD. Plus, you don't want to go to a specialty doctor and have him shove a cold, metal camera up your yoohoo, especially considering you've never even met him before.
Think, Ryan, think...
Hmm.
Thinking...
Wait a tic...there's a common thread here, somewhere, I know it. OK, so what's the last thing you eat before you experience stomach cramps? What's something you eat both in the morning (pregnancy ruled out for various reasons), after you came back from being at home (because you weren't feeling sick when you were there), after the chicken breasts, and at night before you go to bed?
HMMMMMM.........
DING DING DING.
Protein Shakes.
Here's the story: I have two protein shakes every day. One in the morning for breakfast and one after I work out at night. I usually use Designer Whey, Strawberry flavor. But, upon running out of it when I was in Wisconsin, I found a cheapo version of strawberry protein whey at Wal-Mart and bought it on the spot! I was loving Wal-Mart at the time, sorry. Anyway, so that protein turned out to be absolutely disgusting (gritty and foul tasting) but I kept drinking it anyway because I had a Sam's Club-sized vat of it to use up. That's when I started noticing the stomach issues but never associated it with the whey because I've been taking whey for quite awhile. However, when I was at my parents' house for a little R&R, I didn't take any protein whey and felt perfectly fine the whole time I was there. THEN, upon my return to Chicago, my roommate bought some egg-based protein and recommended I try it because it was supposedly a better alternative to whey. Well I tried that and sure enough, back come the stomach pains but times 1,000,000. Smartly, I then went and bought some of my own egg-based protein and drank it every morning and night...with each gulp inducing a rage against the machine that is my stomach/entire body.
So, long story short, I think my stomach is sensitive to the switching and types of protein I've been guzzling. So, the social experiment is to clear out my system of protein supplements for 2 days, monitor my stomach conditions, after that buy some Designer whey, eat as normal, and then monitor conditions after that.
I'll be sure to let you know how things turn out. I know you'll be here, patiently waiting.
3.31.2009
Things I want for my golden 27th birthday, thanks:
-iPod Nano, (long story) I'm separating from my iPhone in mere days and therefore have to succumb to having both a phone and an MP3 device once again. Life is hard.
-Bose Headphones, because its sound clarity is infinitely more amazing than mere earbuds even though its style, storage, and convenience factors are infinitely worse. But whatever, good sound is good sound. And I like to bop.
-Paper shredder, because I'm a sensitive person with sensitive information.
-iTunes, because I like to bop and rock.
-iPod Nano, (long story) I'm separating from my iPhone in mere days and therefore have to succumb to having both a phone and an MP3 device once again. Life is hard.
-Bose Headphones, because its sound clarity is infinitely more amazing than mere earbuds even though its style, storage, and convenience factors are infinitely worse. But whatever, good sound is good sound. And I like to bop.
-Paper shredder, because I'm a sensitive person with sensitive information.
-iTunes, because I like to bop and rock.
The Daily Word:
-I might be a light switch on this one, but I really do regard Facebook as being dead. Yes, I still have a profile but every time I log-on I get this much closer to having an anger-induced heart attack.
-I'm lazier than normal.
-I probably didn't call you back because I would rather not talk than talk.
-I don't visibly sweat and I enjoy that in others.
-Something big is going to happen to me. I can feel it.
-My personality is 75% bad attitude. I've come to terms with it.
-If one more person describes me as short only because said individual is taller than me, I may cut them. I'm 5'10. It's an average height. It's not short. I feel tall in many, many circumstances outside of standing next to someone who is 6'0. And sorry, but it's true: tall men do not age gracefully. Sorry 'bout it.
-Bourgeois is not fancy, Tregg.
-The onset of Spring/Summer means one thing, and one thing only: I will now start feeling guilty about sleeping past 11 AM on weekends.
-I might be a light switch on this one, but I really do regard Facebook as being dead. Yes, I still have a profile but every time I log-on I get this much closer to having an anger-induced heart attack.
-I'm lazier than normal.
-I probably didn't call you back because I would rather not talk than talk.
-I don't visibly sweat and I enjoy that in others.
-Something big is going to happen to me. I can feel it.
-My personality is 75% bad attitude. I've come to terms with it.
-If one more person describes me as short only because said individual is taller than me, I may cut them. I'm 5'10. It's an average height. It's not short. I feel tall in many, many circumstances outside of standing next to someone who is 6'0. And sorry, but it's true: tall men do not age gracefully. Sorry 'bout it.
-Bourgeois is not fancy, Tregg.
-The onset of Spring/Summer means one thing, and one thing only: I will now start feeling guilty about sleeping past 11 AM on weekends.
3.30.2009
Just for verification purposes: I am not anti-Obama.
Get off my back.
Friends, it's OK. I can make statements that do not = OMGIHEARTOBAMA and, at the same time, not fear consequential persecution or crucifixion.
It's OK. It's an opinion. And a non-extreme one at that.
It doesn't mean I'm a hater. First and foremost I'm a lover. Not a hater.
But that doesn't stop peeps from leering at me like I'm a terrorist or a Republican or something similar in nature.
What I am though is observant. What I am though is "a holder." You say something, I hold you to it (which is 50/50 because my memory is shrinking at an incredible rate).
And what I am though is a leader of my own life. Not a follower. Unless we're talking about Twitter, and even then I reserve the right to disseminate NTF and NNF (need to follow and need not follow).
Point is: I lead my opinions, they don't lead me.
I'm amazed at how many people are absolutely enthralled with Obama. I will never EVER be that enthralled by any politician, ever. Politicians are politicians, and you can never fully trust one, even Obama. But I still respect Obama and I still have faith that he will do his very best to fix a very complex situation(s).
Obama is a great leader and I'm so excited that he and his amazing team are tackling this nation's obstacles head on. I anticipate the results, both good and bad.
But I will not be sold to as some idiot who will (literally) buy into the extravaganza that is Obama = savior.
He's our President. And he has a very important job to do. America: quit celebritizing him. He's not a celebrity. He's a public servant who has a lot of crucial work to do, which doesn't include posing for GQ and/or being on the Tonight Show. Or subliminally selling orange juice or any other orange drink.
Let him do his thing. His real thing. His President of the free world thing.
The end.
Get off my back.
Friends, it's OK. I can make statements that do not = OMGIHEARTOBAMA and, at the same time, not fear consequential persecution or crucifixion.
It's OK. It's an opinion. And a non-extreme one at that.
It doesn't mean I'm a hater. First and foremost I'm a lover. Not a hater.
But that doesn't stop peeps from leering at me like I'm a terrorist or a Republican or something similar in nature.
What I am though is observant. What I am though is "a holder." You say something, I hold you to it (which is 50/50 because my memory is shrinking at an incredible rate).
And what I am though is a leader of my own life. Not a follower. Unless we're talking about Twitter, and even then I reserve the right to disseminate NTF and NNF (need to follow and need not follow).
Point is: I lead my opinions, they don't lead me.
I'm amazed at how many people are absolutely enthralled with Obama. I will never EVER be that enthralled by any politician, ever. Politicians are politicians, and you can never fully trust one, even Obama. But I still respect Obama and I still have faith that he will do his very best to fix a very complex situation(s).
Obama is a great leader and I'm so excited that he and his amazing team are tackling this nation's obstacles head on. I anticipate the results, both good and bad.
But I will not be sold to as some idiot who will (literally) buy into the extravaganza that is Obama = savior.
He's our President. And he has a very important job to do. America: quit celebritizing him. He's not a celebrity. He's a public servant who has a lot of crucial work to do, which doesn't include posing for GQ and/or being on the Tonight Show. Or subliminally selling orange juice or any other orange drink.
Let him do his thing. His real thing. His President of the free world thing.
The end.
3.29.2009
Smart Tropicana...very smart.
Walking down the street you can't help but NOTICE this ginormous ad outside the local Jewel-Osco:
Do you think the guy in the ad, and I'm just going out on a limb here, MORE THAN OBVIOUSLY resembles/is a carbon copy of someone? I don't know, someone you've perhaps seen maybe once or twice before...a person who's kind of a big deal these days?
Yeah, him.
Well, you now know which kind of OJ to buy, if you were ever questioning it before.
Smart Tropicana...very smart.
Walking down the street you can't help but NOTICE this ginormous ad outside the local Jewel-Osco:
Do you think the guy in the ad, and I'm just going out on a limb here, MORE THAN OBVIOUSLY resembles/is a carbon copy of someone? I don't know, someone you've perhaps seen maybe once or twice before...a person who's kind of a big deal these days?
Yeah, him.
Well, you now know which kind of OJ to buy, if you were ever questioning it before.
Smart Tropicana...very smart.
3.26.2009
I know I'm going to catch some flack about the following statement, but it's just what I think:
I think the Olympics are completely unnecessary.
I just don't get the Olympics. I don't get the source for sheer spectator craziness over the Olympics. Personally, I couldn't tell you the last time I purposely watched the Olympics. It doesn't do anything for me. At all. Regardless, I don't get the hoopla, I don't get the sense of awe or fascination, I just don't get it. Yes, you run fast. Yes, you swim fast. Wow, you can do a backflip. Cool.
Nice job. You are all very athletically-inclined. Congrats.
Let's move on with life.
Would anyone really care (besides the athletes) if the Olympics didn't exist? I wouldn't.
Chicago is competing in the last rounds for a bid to host the Olympic games in 2016. I, on the other hand, am seriously thinking about joining the sizable protest against the Olympics. And my reasons for protest aren't specifically due to the fact that "I don't get the hoopla." Here's the reality: Chicago has a crumbling education system, a completely flawed and bankrupt public transit system, the highest sales tax in the country, a potential increase in income tax, a corrupt political system, the streets are crumbling, crime is at an all-time high, taxes are rising, and many Chicago peeps are broke, jobless, and/or in need of public aid. Does Chicago have it sights on fixing any of these issues? No, we don't have the money. Does Chicago care about the Olympics? Yes, and it will invest money it doesn't have to eventually turn a profit in the year 2017.
It's 2009. What about NOW?
Don't you think it would be wiser to spend public tax dollars and the city budget on ACTUAL issues rather than bragging rights and (eventual) increased tourism? Plus, where would anyone park in this city when downtown meters cost almost $3 an hour (a strategic effort by the city to make more money)?
This city is a joke. Lets spend all of our time and energy in investing over 4.8 billion dollars into fixing up Chicago as an Olympic host city just to make an (eventual i.e. accounted for in the year 2020) seven billion dollar return. Let's overlook the needs of Chicago citizens now and instead accommodate the needs of Chicago tourists in the future.
It's like painting a turd and charging people to look at it.
Give me a break. Down with Daley.
Down with Games Protest. Next week in Chicago. Google it for more info and join if you agree.
I think the Olympics are completely unnecessary.
I just don't get the Olympics. I don't get the source for sheer spectator craziness over the Olympics. Personally, I couldn't tell you the last time I purposely watched the Olympics. It doesn't do anything for me. At all. Regardless, I don't get the hoopla, I don't get the sense of awe or fascination, I just don't get it. Yes, you run fast. Yes, you swim fast. Wow, you can do a backflip. Cool.
Nice job. You are all very athletically-inclined. Congrats.
Let's move on with life.
Would anyone really care (besides the athletes) if the Olympics didn't exist? I wouldn't.
Chicago is competing in the last rounds for a bid to host the Olympic games in 2016. I, on the other hand, am seriously thinking about joining the sizable protest against the Olympics. And my reasons for protest aren't specifically due to the fact that "I don't get the hoopla." Here's the reality: Chicago has a crumbling education system, a completely flawed and bankrupt public transit system, the highest sales tax in the country, a potential increase in income tax, a corrupt political system, the streets are crumbling, crime is at an all-time high, taxes are rising, and many Chicago peeps are broke, jobless, and/or in need of public aid. Does Chicago have it sights on fixing any of these issues? No, we don't have the money. Does Chicago care about the Olympics? Yes, and it will invest money it doesn't have to eventually turn a profit in the year 2017.
It's 2009. What about NOW?
Don't you think it would be wiser to spend public tax dollars and the city budget on ACTUAL issues rather than bragging rights and (eventual) increased tourism? Plus, where would anyone park in this city when downtown meters cost almost $3 an hour (a strategic effort by the city to make more money)?
This city is a joke. Lets spend all of our time and energy in investing over 4.8 billion dollars into fixing up Chicago as an Olympic host city just to make an (eventual i.e. accounted for in the year 2020) seven billion dollar return. Let's overlook the needs of Chicago citizens now and instead accommodate the needs of Chicago tourists in the future.
It's like painting a turd and charging people to look at it.
Give me a break. Down with Daley.
Down with Games Protest. Next week in Chicago. Google it for more info and join if you agree.
3.23.2009
3.22.2009
omg, look how precious you are...
just sitting there, all pretty-like, with your sloppy chocolate frosting and variously-sized sprinkles.
so sloppy. so pretty.
just the way i like it.
now i don't know what happened to the one before you...or the one after you.
and i probably never will.
but it matters not;
for some reason, you are still here.
and it's you that i like.
you.
you are perfection.
you.complete.me.
xoxo
nom nom nom
3.21.2009
3.19.2009
I love GQ. It's a great magazine, although sometimes their articles (or should I say their writers) irk me a little. The voice of every article is always written in that all-knowing, entitled, cool-as-shit especially because my-shit-don't-stink, douchey male voice that gets under my skin at times. Despite that, I came across an article that I thought was hilarious and all-too-true for us city folk:
Why Brunch Blows
Fake-farmy restaurants! Hangovers with strangers! Long lines! Watery mimosas! Seventeen-dollar French toast! Sickly orange slices sadly dying next to overwrought infantilizing pancake concoctions on chipped china! Half your waking weekend day spent in a hollandaise haze!
“Can I top off your shitty coffee?” Yes, please! Because it’s brunch. And everyone must love brunch. Because if you do not love brunch, you have a serious problem with joie de vivre and America and the whole point of living with all our best friends in the city and being alive.
But you know what? Brunch sucks. It’s a ritual— not a meal— and an annoying, unsatisfying, badly conceived one at that. Eat breakfast alone. Leave the house when you are ready to do something real at a normal time like an adult. Actually, it doesn’t matter what you eat or when. Just stop saying “brunch.” Stop. GQ declares brunch is over. We bury brunch. Huevos rancheros estan muertos. Enough. Long live the real drinking lunch: drunkch.
My best friend John and I have a similar situation, except we're waaaay not as cool as the brunch crowd. He'll call me Sunday morning around 1 or 2 PM, ask me if I'm still drunk or if I've slept it off enough. I'm usually 50/50. Are you starving? I'm starving. You wanna go to Melrose for food? Yeah give me a sec so I can shower and I'll meet you there in a half hour.
Melrose is completely unassuming, unpretentious, serves decent food, and does not have brunch. Nope, no brunch. Just regular menu food. No one goes there because it's the cool, brunchy thing to do. You go there to eat and chill and stare out the windows that line the street. That's it. We read magazine and newspaper ads, we discuss last evening's events (at least what we can recall), reminisce a little, and go forward with our lives. No gaggles of peeps. No lines. No getting out of bed while still drunk just to eat overpriced food.
Drunkch. Perfect.
And don't even get me started on the sushi crowd...
...omg, let's go get sushi!
OMG get out of my face.
Why Brunch Blows
Fake-farmy restaurants! Hangovers with strangers! Long lines! Watery mimosas! Seventeen-dollar French toast! Sickly orange slices sadly dying next to overwrought infantilizing pancake concoctions on chipped china! Half your waking weekend day spent in a hollandaise haze!
“Can I top off your shitty coffee?” Yes, please! Because it’s brunch. And everyone must love brunch. Because if you do not love brunch, you have a serious problem with joie de vivre and America and the whole point of living with all our best friends in the city and being alive.
But you know what? Brunch sucks. It’s a ritual— not a meal— and an annoying, unsatisfying, badly conceived one at that. Eat breakfast alone. Leave the house when you are ready to do something real at a normal time like an adult. Actually, it doesn’t matter what you eat or when. Just stop saying “brunch.” Stop. GQ declares brunch is over. We bury brunch. Huevos rancheros estan muertos. Enough. Long live the real drinking lunch: drunkch.
My best friend John and I have a similar situation, except we're waaaay not as cool as the brunch crowd. He'll call me Sunday morning around 1 or 2 PM, ask me if I'm still drunk or if I've slept it off enough. I'm usually 50/50. Are you starving? I'm starving. You wanna go to Melrose for food? Yeah give me a sec so I can shower and I'll meet you there in a half hour.
Melrose is completely unassuming, unpretentious, serves decent food, and does not have brunch. Nope, no brunch. Just regular menu food. No one goes there because it's the cool, brunchy thing to do. You go there to eat and chill and stare out the windows that line the street. That's it. We read magazine and newspaper ads, we discuss last evening's events (at least what we can recall), reminisce a little, and go forward with our lives. No gaggles of peeps. No lines. No getting out of bed while still drunk just to eat overpriced food.
Drunkch. Perfect.
And don't even get me started on the sushi crowd...
...omg, let's go get sushi!
OMG get out of my face.
3.18.2009
Disposition.
Funny little word. What's your disposition?
I was walking down the sidewalk on a grey, cloudy day, en route to get a haircut. It was way too long, too uninspired. As I was walking, quietly humming to the melody of Eric Bib's "Shine on," minding my own business. I passed this young, black kid. Probably 12. He was carrying an instrument case of some sort. I guessed a saxophone.
I noticed his face. He was looking straight ahead, head held high, mouthing a song, a smile stretched across his face. His teeth were so white. He didn't even see me somehow, he was so caught up in his own world.
Or, should I say, his metallic blue Shuffle was rocking his world.
I loved what happened next. He looked up to the sky and sang "heyyyyy ya"...bounced the next few steps. His free hand was banging the beats out on an air drum.
Great song. Great disposition.
It was such a sight: unabashed happiness. Completely unabashed. It was a beautiful thing. And I loved every second of it.
I couldn't help but smile as I passed him by. Envied him a little. I wish I was that happy. Maybe I will be? Or maybe I won't care so much about the things that make me less than happy. Maybe from now on I'll walk down the streets singing a song. Whatever song I wanted, too. Bouncing every step. Sure, people will notice. And perhaps they'll change their disposition to that of something better. Just like that kid changed mine.
Thanks for that, kid.
My new disposition: shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Shake it.
Music:
Eric Bib: Shine On
Outkast: Hey Ya!
Funny little word. What's your disposition?
I was walking down the sidewalk on a grey, cloudy day, en route to get a haircut. It was way too long, too uninspired. As I was walking, quietly humming to the melody of Eric Bib's "Shine on," minding my own business. I passed this young, black kid. Probably 12. He was carrying an instrument case of some sort. I guessed a saxophone.
I noticed his face. He was looking straight ahead, head held high, mouthing a song, a smile stretched across his face. His teeth were so white. He didn't even see me somehow, he was so caught up in his own world.
Or, should I say, his metallic blue Shuffle was rocking his world.
I loved what happened next. He looked up to the sky and sang "heyyyyy ya"...bounced the next few steps. His free hand was banging the beats out on an air drum.
Great song. Great disposition.
It was such a sight: unabashed happiness. Completely unabashed. It was a beautiful thing. And I loved every second of it.
I couldn't help but smile as I passed him by. Envied him a little. I wish I was that happy. Maybe I will be? Or maybe I won't care so much about the things that make me less than happy. Maybe from now on I'll walk down the streets singing a song. Whatever song I wanted, too. Bouncing every step. Sure, people will notice. And perhaps they'll change their disposition to that of something better. Just like that kid changed mine.
Thanks for that, kid.
My new disposition: shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Shake it.
Music:
Eric Bib: Shine On
Outkast: Hey Ya!
3.17.2009
I'm back. Hey.
I'm back from the depths. It's a long, non-interesting story of where I started and where I ended up, so I'll make it quick: I basically took, head-on, my biggest professional proposal project ever. It required a river of blood, sweat, and tears in addition to countless hours of my life that I'll never get back to actually enjoy...but it's over. And the end result was damn good.
It came down to the very last minute, too. I'm a department of 1 person, so everything was on my shoulders to get it done. After having 80-hour work weeks (and weekends) for the last month, it all came down to today: I had until 8 am this morning to finish my business proposal (all 24 proposals, 800 pages each) as they were to be shipped off to the Department of Transportation at 8 am, no questions asked. I literally finished at 7:59, literally 7:59 this morning--an absolutely beautiful morning at that, as shown below.
What a Monday/Tuesday, what a conclusion...I worked non-stop, and I mean NON-STOP from 7 am Monday morning til 8 am Tuesday morning. 24 hours of too-busy-to-eat-or-pee, panicky, frenzied HOLY-CRAP-I-have-no-time Jessie Spano-like-anxiety during the final production moments. I wish there was some type of surveillance camera footage that showed the billions of things I did in a very small window of time. I bet I looked similar to ants building an ant hill. Anyway I documented the end via iPhone since I budgeted the extra minute to allot for picture documentation. Click the pics to make them bigger:
7:59 am Tuesday, March 17th
You can see a few samples of those bitches/the proposals that I wrote in less than two months (constructed and produced in less than one LONG 24 hour shift). While it was my biggest undertaking EVER [ate away at my sanity and forced me to have a hunchback and crossed eyes from sitting endlessly in front of a glowing computer all day, every day]...I must say that I love those proposals. They proved something to me. I now know for a fact that I'm capable of anything I put my mind to. I can so do it. And I did it.
And that feels real good. I'm in charge of my career. Finally.
Anyway. I've been listening to some new music in an effort to ease (or atleast numb) work-related stress and self-doubt (work-related and otherwise).
I've come up with some winners you might enjoy:
Anyway You Choose to Give It - The Black Ghosts
Georgia - Jaguar Love
The Tape Song - The Kills
Shh - Donora
Section 8 City - Andrew Bird
Come As You Were - The Bird and the Bee
The Park (Feist cover) - Bon Iver
Okay...I'm going to sleep. For a long time. Rumplestiltskin-style.
I'll be back to normal soon. I won't be going back into the office anytime soon.
I'm back from the depths. It's a long, non-interesting story of where I started and where I ended up, so I'll make it quick: I basically took, head-on, my biggest professional proposal project ever. It required a river of blood, sweat, and tears in addition to countless hours of my life that I'll never get back to actually enjoy...but it's over. And the end result was damn good.
It came down to the very last minute, too. I'm a department of 1 person, so everything was on my shoulders to get it done. After having 80-hour work weeks (and weekends) for the last month, it all came down to today: I had until 8 am this morning to finish my business proposal (all 24 proposals, 800 pages each) as they were to be shipped off to the Department of Transportation at 8 am, no questions asked. I literally finished at 7:59, literally 7:59 this morning--an absolutely beautiful morning at that, as shown below.
What a Monday/Tuesday, what a conclusion...I worked non-stop, and I mean NON-STOP from 7 am Monday morning til 8 am Tuesday morning. 24 hours of too-busy-to-eat-or-pee, panicky, frenzied HOLY-CRAP-I-have-no-time Jessie Spano-like-anxiety during the final production moments. I wish there was some type of surveillance camera footage that showed the billions of things I did in a very small window of time. I bet I looked similar to ants building an ant hill. Anyway I documented the end via iPhone since I budgeted the extra minute to allot for picture documentation. Click the pics to make them bigger:
7:59 am Tuesday, March 17th
You can see a few samples of those bitches/the proposals that I wrote in less than two months (constructed and produced in less than one LONG 24 hour shift). While it was my biggest undertaking EVER [ate away at my sanity and forced me to have a hunchback and crossed eyes from sitting endlessly in front of a glowing computer all day, every day]...I must say that I love those proposals. They proved something to me. I now know for a fact that I'm capable of anything I put my mind to. I can so do it. And I did it.
And that feels real good. I'm in charge of my career. Finally.
Anyway. I've been listening to some new music in an effort to ease (or atleast numb) work-related stress and self-doubt (work-related and otherwise).
I've come up with some winners you might enjoy:
Anyway You Choose to Give It - The Black Ghosts
Georgia - Jaguar Love
The Tape Song - The Kills
Shh - Donora
Section 8 City - Andrew Bird
Come As You Were - The Bird and the Bee
The Park (Feist cover) - Bon Iver
Okay...I'm going to sleep. For a long time. Rumplestiltskin-style.
I'll be back to normal soon. I won't be going back into the office anytime soon.
3.12.2009
Weird. I've received three emails from three different people whom pondered, why do you write (!) all the time and what does it mean?
Well, readers, I will explain myself. I'm pretty sure this is an original idea. T-shirts and copyrights are pending, so don't even:
(!) to me, means "freaking out on the inside"
...like, you know, when a "holy crap I'm freaking the F out" event happens in my life or an "Oh, snap!" idea or thought suddenly occurs, I like to extensively freak out on the inside, while playing it super cool on the outside. And I always play it real cool. I'm quite possibly the coolest person you will or will never meet.
But, to externally express my internal freak outs via my blog, I denote such freakings as
(!)
while in my mind I'm thinking
ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit...omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg
and on the outside i'm just like hohumhohumhohumhohumhohum
get the pic?
Well, readers, I will explain myself. I'm pretty sure this is an original idea. T-shirts and copyrights are pending, so don't even:
(!) to me, means "freaking out on the inside"
...like, you know, when a "holy crap I'm freaking the F out" event happens in my life or an "Oh, snap!" idea or thought suddenly occurs, I like to extensively freak out on the inside, while playing it super cool on the outside. And I always play it real cool. I'm quite possibly the coolest person you will or will never meet.
But, to externally express my internal freak outs via my blog, I denote such freakings as
(!)
while in my mind I'm thinking
ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit...omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg
and on the outside i'm just like hohumhohumhohumhohumhohum
get the pic?
Facebook=information overload. I so don't get it's constant fear of complacency i.e. all of these massive face lifts. Something must be up. (?)
At any rate, yes Hilary, you were right all along. It's so yesterday.
Over it.
(I don't need to know 95% of the stuff on Facebook! It actually scares me at this point that I have access to the motherload of all motherloads of personal information for hundreds of people, some of whom I could care less what they're doing or when they did it.)
Therefore, I think I'm going to put all good pictures on a cool site, then with Twitter utilization, this thing I like to call a blog, and 3D interaction with actual human beings, my life may be complete in some regard minus Fbook. Otherwise...nope. Done. Cya. Basic profile, nothing fancy from now on. Facebook = online rolodex. That's it. Peace out.
I'm not hatin' on the club I'm hatin on the 'Book! - Rihanna (through the eyes of ryansumer)
Plus, I could go on for hours about how Facebook turns ordinary individuals into cyber-stalkers with ever-decreasing attention spans, but I have way too much work to do and I'm apparently not doing it because, well, here I am. Anyway...
TOO MUCH!
At any rate, yes Hilary, you were right all along. It's so yesterday.
Over it.
(I don't need to know 95% of the stuff on Facebook! It actually scares me at this point that I have access to the motherload of all motherloads of personal information for hundreds of people, some of whom I could care less what they're doing or when they did it.)
Therefore, I think I'm going to put all good pictures on a cool site, then with Twitter utilization, this thing I like to call a blog, and 3D interaction with actual human beings, my life may be complete in some regard minus Fbook. Otherwise...nope. Done. Cya. Basic profile, nothing fancy from now on. Facebook = online rolodex. That's it. Peace out.
I'm not hatin' on the club I'm hatin on the 'Book! - Rihanna (through the eyes of ryansumer)
Plus, I could go on for hours about how Facebook turns ordinary individuals into cyber-stalkers with ever-decreasing attention spans, but I have way too much work to do and I'm apparently not doing it because, well, here I am. Anyway...
TOO MUCH!
I just had my first psycho Twitter moment where I came to an overly bitter and drama-filled conclusion:
"Oh, you don't wanna follow me? Then I don't wanna follow YOU."
*selects "remove" with a fast, HARD click*
*pouts*
I don't get it.
...what, you're apparently too good to follow me but yet you think I'm going to follow you around like some lost PUPPY!? Get over yourself, you're not worth a tweet, you're stupid, you suck, you're boring anyway, who cares about you, no one, that's who, see ya later you no good such and such...blah blah blah...fire, rage, spit, boom, bah
Note: this internal rant went on for hours. And by hours I mean HOURS.
somebody stop me (!)
"Oh, you don't wanna follow me? Then I don't wanna follow YOU."
*selects "remove" with a fast, HARD click*
*pouts*
I don't get it.
...what, you're apparently too good to follow me but yet you think I'm going to follow you around like some lost PUPPY!? Get over yourself, you're not worth a tweet, you're stupid, you suck, you're boring anyway, who cares about you, no one, that's who, see ya later you no good such and such...blah blah blah...fire, rage, spit, boom, bah
Note: this internal rant went on for hours. And by hours I mean HOURS.
somebody stop me (!)
3.11.2009
I'm getting so far off track with this eating regimen, it's not even funny. And I haven't worked out for three days. OMGWTF?
And, it happened again. I went to breakfast. Grabbed a banana. Grabbed some peanut butter. Grabbed some OJ.
And grabbed a donut.
Oops...
(sorry these blogs are entirely inadequate. I've been working 80+ hour work weeks, working weekends, living in hotels, driving way too fast everywhere I go. I just need some time to regather. I need my life.
And my normal gym schedule.
And less donuts.)
And, it happened again. I went to breakfast. Grabbed a banana. Grabbed some peanut butter. Grabbed some OJ.
And grabbed a donut.
Oops...
(sorry these blogs are entirely inadequate. I've been working 80+ hour work weeks, working weekends, living in hotels, driving way too fast everywhere I go. I just need some time to regather. I need my life.
And my normal gym schedule.
And less donuts.)
3.10.2009
I win:
Hi Ryan,
I recently received your concern about your order arriving at 50 mins to your door. We as a company make it our goal to serve fast, delicious, and hot food to our customers. Unfortunately there are times when we can not always be as fast as we would like. I do apologize for your late order and I would like to offer you a free medium pizza of your choice for your next order. We look forward to serving you again. When you place your next order please call the store and give them the following information for your credit XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
Thank you,
Your Dominos Team
Always write a nicely-worded letter of dissatisfaction when merited. You never know when good customer service will happen.
Hi Ryan,
I recently received your concern about your order arriving at 50 mins to your door. We as a company make it our goal to serve fast, delicious, and hot food to our customers. Unfortunately there are times when we can not always be as fast as we would like. I do apologize for your late order and I would like to offer you a free medium pizza of your choice for your next order. We look forward to serving you again. When you place your next order please call the store and give them the following information for your credit XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
Thank you,
Your Dominos Team
Always write a nicely-worded letter of dissatisfaction when merited. You never know when good customer service will happen.
3.09.2009
Uh, what the bleep is going on? Every day it's like this. I wake up, go to work, and right around that 8:45 a.m. stretch I start to feel SICK. Morning sickness-sick: my body temperature will start to fluctuate drastically, I'll get BURNING hot...then I'll look around the office and ask is it hot in hurr or is it just me?
It's always just me.
Meanwhile my stomach feels like a volcano. I have to literally talk myself out of erupting. I realized long ago that puking is 50% physical, 50% mental. All you have to do is put mind over stomach: Ryan, you're just fine, you don't want to throw up, you hate throwing up, you're not going to throw up. Just breathe in and out, in and out, you're fine, you're strong, this will pass...breathe one, two, three, four...
By the time 10 a.m. rolls around...all has passed, I'm fine, everything is A-OK, and my internal "keep it cool" coaching can finally be shut off. My frenzied anxieties of throwing up in public have also subsided, I can once again look at my computer screen without going cross-eyed, and I can also walk throughout the office without swerving and bumping into people's desks: Oh, whoops! Sorry Patty, I know that's the 3rd time I've ran into your cube wall this morning. My bad. This floor has dips everywhere...did I ever tell you how much I adore that Chicago Cubs troll doll? So cute! Mind if I have a green M&M? I'll send you that expense report in 5.
But seriously, for an hour or so something was UP. Something was definitely up.
Could it be? It may just be.
Which is fine because I could totally use the tax write-off.
It's always just me.
Meanwhile my stomach feels like a volcano. I have to literally talk myself out of erupting. I realized long ago that puking is 50% physical, 50% mental. All you have to do is put mind over stomach: Ryan, you're just fine, you don't want to throw up, you hate throwing up, you're not going to throw up. Just breathe in and out, in and out, you're fine, you're strong, this will pass...breathe one, two, three, four...
By the time 10 a.m. rolls around...all has passed, I'm fine, everything is A-OK, and my internal "keep it cool" coaching can finally be shut off. My frenzied anxieties of throwing up in public have also subsided, I can once again look at my computer screen without going cross-eyed, and I can also walk throughout the office without swerving and bumping into people's desks: Oh, whoops! Sorry Patty, I know that's the 3rd time I've ran into your cube wall this morning. My bad. This floor has dips everywhere...did I ever tell you how much I adore that Chicago Cubs troll doll? So cute! Mind if I have a green M&M? I'll send you that expense report in 5.
But seriously, for an hour or so something was UP. Something was definitely up.
Could it be? It may just be.
Which is fine because I could totally use the tax write-off.
3.08.2009
3.07.2009
3.06.2009
3.05.2009
...god only knows what's out there...
Just FYI, I'm completely alone, sitting in a conference room, at 9 pm at night. You may or may not already know this if you're stalking me on Facebook or Twitter (MySpace died 3 years ago, so gross), or perhaps you're stalking me from 10 feet away on the outside (or inside!) of the building. Regardless, I'm hearing stuff.
Noises are everywhere.
Some of them are believable (water cooler gurgling), some are 50/50 (wind, tree scrapes), and some are down right unacceptable (feet skidding quickly on carpet).
I really don't know what to do. A part of me wants to scream and surrender and beg for mercy or a quick death. A part of me went in survival mode hours ago and is already planning my exit strategy/adrenaline-fueled, self-defense counter attack, and a VERY small, completely unstable part of me is mildly intrigued to wander around, face whatever's out there, pray to god that some stray cat jumps out of a trash can or something.
Uttering the words in a sigh of relief "Phew, it was just a stray cat in a trash can" would be pretty ideal right about now.
OKAY PEOPLE, you know when sometimes an empty water bottle has little indents in it and then randomly they "POP" out, making that "POP" noise? A water bottle just did that while I was typing the paragraph above, making my heart literally stop. And it HURT. I think it could have even been considered a heart attack. Okay, a mild heart attack. I mean, I'd atleast call it an F1 heart attack, pretty non-serious in nature, but still, a heart attack nonetheless since, afterall, my heart did, in fact, stop receiving blood for a couple millies.
Anyway, if I hear another unacceptable noise I think I'm going turn on every light in the building, walk cautiously to the door in a 360 motion, then run to my car, look in the backseat first, lock the doors second, peel out 3rd, crank BPM on XM 4th, drive at the speed of light to my hotel 5th, and then have my work peeps bill me the electric bill in the morning.
The predicaments I get myself into. Ugh.
Just FYI, I'm completely alone, sitting in a conference room, at 9 pm at night. You may or may not already know this if you're stalking me on Facebook or Twitter (MySpace died 3 years ago, so gross), or perhaps you're stalking me from 10 feet away on the outside (or inside!) of the building. Regardless, I'm hearing stuff.
Noises are everywhere.
Some of them are believable (water cooler gurgling), some are 50/50 (wind, tree scrapes), and some are down right unacceptable (feet skidding quickly on carpet).
I really don't know what to do. A part of me wants to scream and surrender and beg for mercy or a quick death. A part of me went in survival mode hours ago and is already planning my exit strategy/adrenaline-fueled, self-defense counter attack, and a VERY small, completely unstable part of me is mildly intrigued to wander around, face whatever's out there, pray to god that some stray cat jumps out of a trash can or something.
Uttering the words in a sigh of relief "Phew, it was just a stray cat in a trash can" would be pretty ideal right about now.
OKAY PEOPLE, you know when sometimes an empty water bottle has little indents in it and then randomly they "POP" out, making that "POP" noise? A water bottle just did that while I was typing the paragraph above, making my heart literally stop. And it HURT. I think it could have even been considered a heart attack. Okay, a mild heart attack. I mean, I'd atleast call it an F1 heart attack, pretty non-serious in nature, but still, a heart attack nonetheless since, afterall, my heart did, in fact, stop receiving blood for a couple millies.
Anyway, if I hear another unacceptable noise I think I'm going turn on every light in the building, walk cautiously to the door in a 360 motion, then run to my car, look in the backseat first, lock the doors second, peel out 3rd, crank BPM on XM 4th, drive at the speed of light to my hotel 5th, and then have my work peeps bill me the electric bill in the morning.
The predicaments I get myself into. Ugh.
So, I had yet another revelation last night. Well, it wasn't so much a revelation as it was a conclusion...
I think my V-Logs are on their way out the door. Here's my reasoning:
V-Logs are typically fun. I've had fun making them, I've had fun watching other people's v-logs, it's just a fun idea altogether.
BUT, and boy is it a big but, YouTube is such a buzzkill. You know why? People are ruthless on YouTube. Just down right mean and nasty. I can't tell you how many weird emails I've received via YouTube that are completely uncalled for and unnecessary and I hate to admit it but sometimes even scary. I received an email last night that really was an end-all of all end-alls. That one email (and trust me, there have been a few of similar nature but nothing like this) took all of the fun out of what I was trying to accomplish and extracted every last ounce of interest I had in continuing on. Like I said, for some reason, YouTube harbors undeniable hate. People love to be hateful on YouTube, and it's gone just a little too far. And by a little I mean a lot. Even more, I really can't keep putting myself out there only to be demeaned and threatened. It's totally not worth it.
Coincidentally, I recently watched someone else's reaction video to their own YouTube hate, and it got me thinking...he's absolutely right: inside somewhere deep and dark, YouTube enthusiasts are just a bunch of haters who don't even blink before leaving a nasty, unjust comment or sending a nasty, hate-filled email. Would these lurking YouTube haters ever verbalize such a thing, or do they talk to people in real life with such misery-filled, hate speech? Probably not.
But on YouTube, that's just the lay of the land. And I'm over it.
YouTube kills my self-esteem and for a soon-to-be 27 year old man, that's just not necessary. This isn't grade school.
Peace out, YouTube.
Blogspot is my baby anyway.
I think my V-Logs are on their way out the door. Here's my reasoning:
V-Logs are typically fun. I've had fun making them, I've had fun watching other people's v-logs, it's just a fun idea altogether.
BUT, and boy is it a big but, YouTube is such a buzzkill. You know why? People are ruthless on YouTube. Just down right mean and nasty. I can't tell you how many weird emails I've received via YouTube that are completely uncalled for and unnecessary and I hate to admit it but sometimes even scary. I received an email last night that really was an end-all of all end-alls. That one email (and trust me, there have been a few of similar nature but nothing like this) took all of the fun out of what I was trying to accomplish and extracted every last ounce of interest I had in continuing on. Like I said, for some reason, YouTube harbors undeniable hate. People love to be hateful on YouTube, and it's gone just a little too far. And by a little I mean a lot. Even more, I really can't keep putting myself out there only to be demeaned and threatened. It's totally not worth it.
Coincidentally, I recently watched someone else's reaction video to their own YouTube hate, and it got me thinking...he's absolutely right: inside somewhere deep and dark, YouTube enthusiasts are just a bunch of haters who don't even blink before leaving a nasty, unjust comment or sending a nasty, hate-filled email. Would these lurking YouTube haters ever verbalize such a thing, or do they talk to people in real life with such misery-filled, hate speech? Probably not.
But on YouTube, that's just the lay of the land. And I'm over it.
YouTube kills my self-esteem and for a soon-to-be 27 year old man, that's just not necessary. This isn't grade school.
Peace out, YouTube.
Blogspot is my baby anyway.
3.04.2009
3.03.2009
From One Fine Day
Melanie (Mom): Sammy, I swear, you'll be just fine here, there are lots of nice kids to play with.
Sammy: I don't want to play with them, they always make fun of me.
Melanie: Honey, don't worry about it, you'll be just fine, I promise. Hey, look it's superhero day! Oh wow, look at Spiderman.
Spiderman Kid: Hey, look, he doesn't have a costume! (points at Sammy)
Melanie: Sure he does, he's a superhero too, you know.
Spiderman Kid: He doesn't look like a superhero, he looks like a whiney baby poo poo face.
Sammy: Stares at his Mom
Melanie (Mom): Sammy, I swear, you'll be just fine here, there are lots of nice kids to play with.
Sammy: I don't want to play with them, they always make fun of me.
Melanie: Honey, don't worry about it, you'll be just fine, I promise. Hey, look it's superhero day! Oh wow, look at Spiderman.
Spiderman Kid: Hey, look, he doesn't have a costume! (points at Sammy)
Melanie: Sure he does, he's a superhero too, you know.
Spiderman Kid: He doesn't look like a superhero, he looks like a whiney baby poo poo face.
Sammy: Stares at his Mom
3.02.2009
This is going to be a week gifted from Hell. I'm in Milwaukee all week wrapping up a major state proposal. Crunch time...but, speaking of which (and more importantly) I could really go for an oversized bowl of Captain Crunch right about now. Although I must say that I can only handle so many crunchberries. In my mind, a perfect bowl would only contain about 8 or 9 crunchberries...and only the red kind, no blue. If you get too many of them, the cereal gets a little toxic--my teeth feel slime-coated while my stomach files claims of domestic abuse.
Much like the perfect chocolate chip cookie would only have about 4 or 5 chocolate chips.
However, it's been a good 10+ years since I've had a bowl of CC. Since then I've ventured in and out of my Fruit Loop days, generic fruit loop days, Lucky Charms days, generic Lucky Charms days (one bag only, SICK, and I swear the marshmallows shrivel into nothingness upon 5 milliseconds of milk submergence), Oh's days, and most recently, Apple Cinnamon Cheerios days, but in the spirit of embracing the ever-so-close-I-can-almost-feel-it arrival of Spring...it's all about the protein shake. That's it.
Although I went to the continental breakfast in the hotel lobby and snagged a donut on my way to work. It had sprinkles and I could not resist.
Yes, my life is disconnected. This post is merely one example.
Much like the perfect chocolate chip cookie would only have about 4 or 5 chocolate chips.
However, it's been a good 10+ years since I've had a bowl of CC. Since then I've ventured in and out of my Fruit Loop days, generic fruit loop days, Lucky Charms days, generic Lucky Charms days (one bag only, SICK, and I swear the marshmallows shrivel into nothingness upon 5 milliseconds of milk submergence), Oh's days, and most recently, Apple Cinnamon Cheerios days, but in the spirit of embracing the ever-so-close-I-can-almost-feel-it arrival of Spring...it's all about the protein shake. That's it.
Although I went to the continental breakfast in the hotel lobby and snagged a donut on my way to work. It had sprinkles and I could not resist.
Yes, my life is disconnected. This post is merely one example.
3.01.2009
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