Turkey Turkey T-Day (and other goings on)

Oh, well hello there!

Yes yes, I'm still alive and I feel like I haven't talked to any of you in awhile.  How's your aunt doing with that rash thing?  Did Shirley's cake win state at the fair?  Did your brother get parole this time or stab another inmate again?  Your sister lost any of the baby weight yet?  ...Still pregnant? Yeesh, some people just need all the attention.

But really though people, I feel like it's been too long.  Would you like a quick update on my goings on?  Hm, let's start with singing and dancing to Marina and the Diamonds in the basement (namely, this song), writing papers, eating tacos (I don't think there's any way to NOT make that sound dirty), googling why cats purr.  You know, all the essential things us college kids do.  What's that you say?  They don't do that?  Well I don't know where you live but those things are all the rage here...in my mind.

I'm sure you are all thinking a few things.  First one being how amazed you are that I speak the English language with such fluency and finesse.  Well thank you kind sir/madam, one day if you wish hard enough, you can be on American Idol (since that's still relevant?) and become a washed-up and vapid reality star.

Second, I'm sure you're thinking that Thanksgiving just happened.  What aren't you telling us Ryan?!

Gosh, so needy internet, I'm going to have to get a restraining order unless you stop leaving horse heads on my back porch--I don't care if you say they're gifts from the neighborhood!

Well, like any Thanksgiving, there was food.  Yes food.  Food food food.  Was there? There was.

You know, I originally put off writing this due to the fact that school* has been a little daunting lately and I honestly had a pretty low key Thanksgiving.  Plural, I need to make that plural.

Not the country? Ohhhhhh...

Let's see, on the day the Great Turkey saved the Easter Bunny, I first had T-day with the family.  Things started out like any other Cardenas gathering: someone was late, someone was still in their pajamas, and something ended up in the freezer that was not meant to be in the freezer.  Aside from the small frozen jello situation we had a rather calm dinner.  May we discuss though, Robert Redford cake?  You see, my sister made this as an additional dessert to our dinner and I think about half the dinner conversation focused around the name of the cake.

Sibling: So why is the cake call Robert Redford?

Maker of Cake: Because if you grind up Robert Redford and make him into a cake, that's what he would taste like.

Other sibling: Wait, who's Robert Redford?

Mom: He was in a lot of Westerns.

Me: RobertRedfordRobertRedfordRobertRedfordRobertRedfordRobertRedford

Dad:...Who's Robert Redford?

Thank you Robert Redford, wherever you are.  Also, sorry about the mysterious butt-print someone made into the cake named after you.

Let's go to Thanksgiving numero two now: Enter the Nielson household due to the last minute invitation from my recently engaged friend Grace.

Ah Nielson's, how you spoiled me with another Thanksgiving while you bet on how late certain people would attend.  My second turkey, my second pie, my second family, just a whole lot of seconds.  Seconds that were well spent, I might add, since some members of the Nielson clan (and extended members) helped calm my qualms about taking the GRE in the spring.  I guess you could say I used them for their knowledge...just kidding Nielsons, you know I love attending T-day at your house, you guys are all pretty rockin'.  Your OCD and ADD and ACDC, all of it, every bit.

Black Friday: I went back to the 'crombie for 10 hours. Things were busy, we made money, enough said.

Thanksgiving #3:

We are the outliers, because the vast majority is
too mainstream.

A little later than the rest, my friends decided to get together on Sunday to celebrate a little feast of leftovers from our respective Thanksgivings.  Due to the fact that my family had already vacuumed up all our food, I made a new batch of stuffing and headed over to Max's house for the festivities.  We had stuffing, hastily made cookies, the other T-day essentials, and some very crispy rolls due to oven negligence.  But doesn't that just illustrate a group of college-aged
kids getting together for a meal?  Just burnt something.  I mean, this age group eats ramen for every meal, so I think we became outliers with our cool cooking abilities.

And I swear, in that moment, we were outliers...

With all that widespread turkey murder day passed, I returned to the Ceeds where I would lie face-down on my floor while my body tried to digest and recover from the past week of serious binge eating.  Whoop-di-doo.

So let's all collectively take a deep breath...deeper, deeper I say! Now exhale as we bring in the new month with all the new things that we can commercialize!

Thanks for the Thanks.


*I promise that I'm not going to vague drama-blog about how hard school is.  Yes, I'm aware it is stressful sometimes and there's no shame in acknowledging that.  Is there shame in bitching about it to strangers on the internet who aren't in your exact situation?  Yes, SHAME.  Feel no guilt for me since I'm the one giving this prostitute of a school my money and then they're slapping me in the face with the equivalent of...a brick? I think that works.  Us college kids can gripe with each other because we understand that sometimes things aren't ideal.  When the griping is excessive, it's like crying to the prostitute.  ...You know, I think I'm getting lost in my own example so I'm gonna stop now.  Although, pity in the form of edible goods will not go unappreciated *nudge wink*

Nodding Off

*sigh*

You know what? I'm a little tired right now. Sitting on my bed in my uncircumcised penis sweater*, listening to Lana Del Rey's most recent songs, and I'm TIRED. I actually fell asleep in class yesterday. Not just the kind of fall asleep where you start to nod (trust me, there were a lot of those nods), but the kind where you have absolutely no clue what is happening when your eyes open.

Wait, we're learning about me being a ninja and fighting Yoda who throws pizzas of death in my Psychology of Culture class? Oh right, that's my dream, calm down Ryan.

You know what else is happening right now? Or happened I guess--but the signing up for class war that happens near the end of every semester.  Midnight approaches on the fateful day that the freakin' internet will allow you to sign up for classes and I'm sitting there at my kitchen table, paper with CRN numbers in hand, and a twitching hand on my keyboard.
Midnight strikes (or 12:01 really).

No class for you.

I'm frantically typing numbers into little boxes and pressing buttons like a madman. Why have they made this a virtual hunger games? Students fighting each other virtually getting into classes and cheering; tears of joy leaving trails down some faces as they know that they are safe while others are doomed to death (or just their second choice class; either or).

 Hm, well this class got full really quick, what do I do now? Well I just switch these two clas--NO! How could it be full already I didn't even--WHY AM I NO LONGER ENROLLED IN SCHOOL. (Slight exaggeration)

So after I stopped beating my head against the table, I went to bed, woke up, banged my head into the table for another 24 hours and then fixed my schedule. It isn't exactly what I wanted it to be, but it will do.  That'll do schedule, that'll do...

The really odd thing is that this is my last semester at the good ol' SUU. Last. Semester. You know, I don't wanna get into that now, let's talk about something. Let's segue like when your 10 year old asks what a dildo is! (Can I say that here? Oh wait, THIS IS THE INTERNET, MUAHAHA)

Hey, do you guys want to know an excellent self-esteem boost? Well, after working at the school today (I talked about what I do here), I went and chatted with the receptionist who sets my schedule and do you know what she told me? Of course you don't, I'm telling you right now.  She told me that I looked like I had put on more muscle over the summer and that it LOOKED REEEEEAAALLY GOOD ON ME.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.  If there is anything better than having an older receptionist tell you that you look rather muscly, I don't know what it is.  It might not fix my jacked up sleeping schedule, but I'll take it.



*Ugh, fine I'll explain why it's called the uncircumcised penis sweater. You know, do I really have to? I mean, it's sort of self-explanatory. It looks like an uncircumcised penis around my neck basically or so one of my friends said one day and it stuck. Will I continue to wear it and call it that? Of course.

Tis The Season For Excuses

Fa la la la laaaa, la la. la. LA.

(In case you didn't get it, you were supposed to sing that to yourself. Getting in the holiday spirit is so FUN.)

Anyways guys, so the external hard-drive that I hook up to my lappy and contains every episode of How I Met Your Mother has decided to go on the fritz and not work. So you know what that means?! Yup, I'm totally eating in bed and crying. But you know, it's probably for the better. Kind of like the hard-drive is having a small intervention with me: "Ryan, you need to stop watching all these episodes of HIMYM and read a book, or at least wash your hair today." "No hard-drive! You can't make me!"

Seriously guys, I think I saw him filling out forms for rehab. Shit is getting real.

But do you know what I purchased at the grocery store two days ago? EGG NOG. That's right; the creamy, eggy, yellowy, fatty goodness that is egg nog has been delivered by the Nog Gods to once again grace the fridges of our grocery stores.

THE NOG

So of course you guys know what this means.

Yes, it's already empty and I'm licking the inside of the carton.

Oh, and that and the holidays are fast approaching.

I always found that instead of listening for Christmas music on the radio, I could just start to look for the Holiday food that starts to appear. The pumpkin flavored everything, packages beginning to adorn holiday themed decorations, hams as big as your crushed dreams, and of course, the egg nog.

This time always signals that time when I can start to wear all the sweaters I crave to wear all year since the temperature drops to below the love of your in-laws. Sweaters obviously carry the other holidays in with them as well.

An essential for all
holiday parties.

Let's see, we have Halloween (check), Thanksgiving, and Christmas. And for all you other people, Christmahanaquanzaka. All of which are filled with sweaters food! Oh, and social interaction*.

Honestly, I'm a little excited. This time of the year is usually my favorite since I find that the city seems to quiet down a little and that "holiday season bug" bites everyone and they force themselves to be nicer. I mean, even I crawl out of my cave, don a sweater, and attend a holiday party or two. But so help me if there is no food, I will light your house on fire. Only because I'm warning everyone not to come.

But you know what else these cold holidays remind me of? All the damn excuses I make for myself for everything I do.

Oh you don't have school today? Let's get out of bed at...NOON

You know, you only had three doughnuts yesterday, so two is an improvement. For lunch anyways.

Well, since all your other clothes are dirty, you obviously can't go out...NETFLIX!

As the snow starts to fall, so does my activity level and we all know that in Utah it's usually everywhere by now. I guess for some reason mother nature wants me to keep focusing on getting out of bed and making it to class instead of being a blanket burrito with my cat.

Which reminds me of all the resolutions I made that fell through. Technically I still have two months to try and get my shit together, but we all know that after the first week, we're all done for. Honestly, I wonder how many people actually follow through on all their resolutions. Guess what? Through the magic of the internet, a few clicks, and some typing, I discovered that over 80% of all people fall through on their resolutions. Guys, I got this from the internet, it must be true.

You know, what is it about this turkey season and wreath door hanging-ness make us all want to try and change ourselves and put ourselves in positions we usually can't follow through with? I don't see anyone on President's day peeing on the floor with excitement about how they are going to change their life. So of course we then justify our actions with, say it with me kids, wonderful wonderful excuses.

It's coming you guys...it's coming...

Big excuses! Small excuses! On sale excuses! Excuses that don't even make sense! Get them on SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY...

Ok, I think I might have gotten a little carried away, but I know that I do the same thing.

"Eh, I didn't have time to read a book, my cat looked really hungry today and needed attention."

"You know, I would have gone running more if the temperature had been between 69 degrees and 74 degress. Any more or less and I just can't make it."

"The internet."

Hm, well maybe the last one is real...

So I'm excited you guys. Excited for whatever excuses I give myself this year. Excited for the pumpkin nog and ham goodness flowing out your doors. Excited for the extremely nightmare-invoking inflatable snowmen in your yard (no one thinks they're adorable, give it up Cindy from accounting).

Even excited for the social interac--asd;lkfja;lkfds g;lkjfssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

...ugh, sorry guys, I had a small seizure and passed out. We'll work on that one.

Bring it on winter.




*Did any of you hear the audible twitch from me as I wrote that. Social Interaction. There it is again. I promise it's not your cat throwing up, listen closer. Closer. There it is, you got it.