'Twas My Days Before Christmas

O' holy shiiiiit, the tree is all on fiiiiiiirrrre.

'Twas two weeks before Christmas
and all through our house,
all the kids were still sleeping,
had chloroform been doused?

No, school was let out
and the fun had just started;
so get up! Go shower!
It smells like you farted.

"Were there papers to write?
Any books to be read?"
I kept thinking to myself
just up in my head.

I realized the holidays were here
and each day was great!
Lay in my underwear
and eat solely cake!

The tree glowed with light
and stockings hung up all gaily.
"Maybe" I thought at midnight,
"I should start showering daily."

C-Day approached fast, 
The eve was nigh.
"If you aren't at dinner tonight," Mom said
"I'll stab you in the eye."

Gifts were exchanged,
snow fell through the air.
All threats that night
were kept to a minimum death stare.

Deck the halls with calls to Amber Alert,
fa la la la la, la la la la.

As the stars shone in heaven
like meth labs alight,
all the kids started bidding
each other goodnight.

"I think I hear Santa" 
I thought in my bed.
"I hope he knows weight-related-diabetes
will kill you real dead."

The sun came up early
just as you'd expect.
'Cept this time some man
broke in and left us effects.

Ritual set in 
for the siblings around
"Just one at a time," Said mother
"We WILL make this a round."

All the stockings ripped down
from the chimney now sparce.
All tempted to down candy
that'll make a fat arse.

Wrappings strewn on the floor,
chocolate smeared onto faces,
small comas commenced
each respective in places.

The day had come
and it went by real fast,
like a hit and run Grandma
hitting traffic cones she passed.

Every year we see joy
and smiles spread on faces,
because it's, "'Tis the Season!"
to be in good graces.

So I'll take what I get,
even when short-lived.
If some snow on the ground
means cheer will be gived.

So thank you good fat-man
and thanks to dear Jesus,
even if we only give each other
festivus cheeses.

So a belated Christmas here
and a belated Christmas there,
It's the thought that counts, right?
Because now I don't care.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

To My Fellow Pants-Fighters

Dear Pants-Fighters that I know, don't know, kinda know, or maybe have just seen occasionally being clothed in public:

Today you all went out into your respective wards and church buildings clad in your two-legged butt coverings (or as some people call them, pants) and made a statement for you and what you believed in.

Some of you may have stepped into the doors with slight trepidation, some with a bolstering pride that shone like the thighs of a thousand red-haired men. Whatever entrance, you decided to strut your stuff through those doors and take a well deserved seat in your meetings.

A lot of you may have been given wide-eyed stares, possibly even the narrow squint of disapproval that is no easy thing to sit with.

I say to let them stare. To give them the satisfaction of you looking at yourself, doubting what you came to do in the first place, only strengthens their views of ,"I'm right, and they're wrong."

They: Those women (and men) trying to stand in solidarity with one another to promote more togetherness in a gospel that is centered around the very principle.

To those who weren't aware of the your panted oncoming, educate them. "So, why are all you young gals wearing those fancy pants to church today?" Old Widow Bates might inquire to you as you exit the sacrament hall.  Educate the wig off this woman.  Educate her so hard the tennis balls on her little walker fly off.

Not being a very religious person (but knowing general principles of Mormon doctrine), it saddens me to hear of all the hate that has been circulating over this day.  The very people speaking of love and understanding over the pulpit might very well be the person so afraid of this demonstration that they would actually use acts of aggression to preserve their views.

If they honestly believe that those putting their opinions out into the world don't deserve to be heard, they should just close their mouths as well. They should look back into history and look at all the times when their group was the underdog and the feelings that develop inside of them when they think of how if their small group of opinionators hadn't said anything, then where would they be now?

Also, if there's anything else I've learned from history, it's the small outspoken group that usually makes the most change. Often times they don't even think they've made an impact to their cause until they stand back and look at the completed project.

So some of you may think to yourselves that you didn't make a dent in your cause by wearing pants today. I say to that just because someone didn't explicitly accost you, grab you by the blouse, shake you with the force of one hundred 3-year olds, and tell you with how you personally changed their life, doesn't mean you didn't. Remember that there are a lot of quiet onlookers who just need someone to show them a new example.

In closing I am proud of all you pants wearing rock-stars.  You Stay-At-Home-Mom pants wearers, you single mother pants wearers, you working mother pants wearers, and whatever other manner of pants wearers out there, I am proud of you. Thank you for saying that you stood for something and thank you for your small bravery when entering a situation of unknown outcomes.

You're all making those first steps onto Everest where you aren't acclimatized yet. You throw up everywhere, but you keep going.  You keep going with your vomit stained shirt all the way up that damn mountain.

Also, thank you to the men out there that stood with these woman (because one needs not be a woman to be a feminist).

Just keep climbing past those squinty-eyed onlookers looking down upon you.  Eventually (and hopefully) you'll all be able to stand at the top together helping each other get there.

Rock stars, each and every one of you. You survived Pants-Gate, Pant-mageddon, Pant-pocalypse, or Pant-what? (as my dad said).

Ryan Goes to Court

I know what you're thinking; I finally snapped and stabbed some poor unsuspecting freshmen with a paperclip after they played farmville on the only available computer in the library during finals week.

I obviously have some street cred now and can say things like 'swag' or 'thug' (I'm pretty new, throw me a bone to what real gangsters actually say.)

Oh that's right, occasionally I mix up traffic court with a high security prison, oops.

Yes, it's true.  The "good" boy you all know was caught by the popo breaking the laws of the road in little Overton, Nevada about a month or so ago.  I may or may not have been going 30 miles over the speed limit (it's may, otherwise this story wouldn't have happened ya derp).  So, upon receiving my ticket, the officer informed me that I wold have to attend traffic court else they put out a warrant for my arrest.

The new children's book I'm writing.

In my head after he said this, I thought to myself what the life of a fugitive would be like.  Would I be able to suddenly grow a long beard to hide my true identity? Would aviator sunglasses be permanently glued to my face? I guess we'll never know...

So instead of dodging the law, about a week ago I traversed out to small town Nevada the night before my court date*, slept a few hours, and then got up and wandered the town a bit until I found the Moapa Valley Justice Court where I went inside and took a seat.

I was about 10 minutes early for my 7:30 hearing so I sat quietly in the chair next to the court door since what else was I supposed to do.  At this time, one other criminal was sitting two chairs away from me and apparently if there are only two people in court, this means that conversation must occur.

"So are you local or were you just passing through?" Jack the Ripper asked me

"Oh, I was just passing through and they got me."

"Yeah me too...you know, there are usually people lined up outside the door at this place." as Ted Bundy continued the conversation.

"Well I guess people are just staying out of trouble then." I said with a little smile on my face.

Wait a minute--how does he know there are lots of people at this specific traffic court when he said he was just passing through?  Yes, he specifically said that he was NOT LOCAL  I know what you're thinking: Ryan, he must have said these places.  No. No he said this place. THIS place.  I was obviously dealing with some sort of maniac-repeat-offender who was going to run me over with his death-mobile first chance he got.

"Hm, you know this court room sure is small..." said Jeffrey Dahmer as he glanced through the window of the court room door

Alright now it's official.  This man has seen far too many court rooms for twice as many reasons if he is comparing their relative size.  Was this small compared to the supreme court justice room?  I decided to just keep looking at the clock to avoid any more interactions with the Zodiac Killer over there...

"Oh look, here they all come."

Sure enough, outside the door, a slew of other traffic disgracers had shown up to plead their cases in a court of law.  The clock struck 7:30 and I was ushered into the courtroom after being scanned with a metal detector (you know, in case I brought my shiv from home).

What was sure to be my future home.

After the judge had us all rise, head, shoulders, knees, and toes, and sit down, he explained the rules of this game called "traffic court."  We could plead guilty, guilty with an excuse, or not guilty where a court date would be set for us later in the year.  He then explained if we chose not guilty with an excuse that the excuse couldn't be we didn't know what the speed limit was.  Shoot judge, you just ruined my day.

Next commenced the explanations of some interesting people.  One man claimed that he spun his wheels in a parking lot for 30 seconds because he "didn't know" how strong his jacked up truck was.  One woman was there for her son who had apparently had a drinking and driving incident (repeatedly).  Our mass murderer conversationalist man had apparently just done similar to what I had done but a few miles less.  Surprising, I was expecting the charge to be "mowed down an entire school yard with a tractor."  Finally, it was my turn.

Standing before the judge, he explained to me how lucky I was to have this taken down to a non-moving traffic violation and how thankful I should be.  At this point, I was not going to argue with anyone since I really just wanted to pay my fine and be on my merry way.  I pleaded guilty and thought that I had said I knew that this was my one and only get-out-of-expensive-insurance card but then the judge started to talk about a court date in January.

What?

January.

Say what now?

I stammered quickly to explain that I did not want to contest the ticket at all and I was sorry I misunderstood whatever he had said (because in my mind I was just supposed to keep saying yes). The judge gave me a look that said "ya' dumb" and I think I actually heard someone else in the courtroom snicker.  I awkwardly stood there as the judge grudgingly crossed out some writing on his pad (I guess he really enjoys contesting speeding violations and I ruined his day) and then I sat down with the clerk to pay my fine.

I did it.  I had evaded the law and avoided jail time where I would have surely become part of a large gang that crochets on Tuesday nights and Wednesday night is jailhouse stab-a-thon.  I am a criminal no more...or ever was really but let me have some small street cred.

Ryan Cardenas:  Fighter, fugitive, gang lord, and traffic violator.  Free at last.



*You may be wondering why I didn't just pay the ticket online. See, they told me if I showed up in person, since it was my first offense I would be able to have it taken off my record and turned into a non-moving traffic violation.  So yes, I drove very far to help keep my insurance costs low.

Dying and Final are Kinda Similar...

I'm sure you guys know by now that when I get really frustrated with any assignment I'm doing, I distract myself by typing out here.  What assignment is it today you ask? Personality Theory!

But theory aside, I guess I'm just going to empty my brain a bit so I can get back to focusing. 

What's going on this week? FINALS.  Just finals everywhere.  A final for you, a final for you, two for you Glen Coco, you go Glen Coco! 

I've decided that I really need to start getting my shit together you guys.  Due to some really poor diet choices and some really poor sleep choices, my body is deciding it no longer wants to function.  I'm sure you can all see how that is a problem when this paper is due at 5pm.  Yes, two hours away.  I'm almost done but I'm really afraid that I'm going to fall asleep at this desk and just die here in a pool of my own drool. 

Want to know something else? I actually had a dream last night about how I slept for 20 million hours, woke up at 5:30pm and started crying.  Full on tears down my face about how I missed my deadline and I would have to beg and plead to turn in my paper.  Funny thing was, to get over this tragedy, I decided to go see Elf in the Main Street theatre.  I'm glad my subconscious is so easily satisfied.

Why did I tell you that story?  To illustrate that even my subconscious is getting tired of my shenanigans and is trying to scare-tactic me back into line. 


...

I think this has woken me up enough to now get back to my paper.  If none of you hear from me for a couple days, please come locate my drool soaked body.  No autopsy necessary, we all know how it went down.
 

Sunday In-My-Head Day

I'm currently getting a little stir-crazy because sometimes I get into my own head too much.  It's that weird moment where you're sitting in the shower, having a nice relaxing time and your brain decides for some strange reason to jump to an incredibly embarrassing thing you've said or done.  So you sit there, water running down your back, and you get that distinctive awful chill accompanied with the sinking feeling of OH DEAR LORD HOW COULD I HAVE EVER DONE THAT.  Then you start to relax and hope that no one else ever remembers either (because most of the time the embarrassment is just in my head, right?).

So, to distract myself, I turned the handle to increase water temperature and decided to dive head first into my head.  You know, that sounded much better inside my head then right now.  Kind of like how when you read a book set in a country with a foreign accent and the narrator voice in your head talks in that accent.  Prime example being when I read Crime and Punishment was how everything said sounded like a gruff Russian man.  Occasionally if I read for too many hours and then actually talked, a little bit of Russian accent would sneak out.

"Teach that cat to shit in my garden..."

Let's veer back into what I was actually trying to get into.

My mind starts to get really off track, prime example above, so to distract myself from diving into a pool of self-loathing, I started to think of all the weird talents that I have.  Not things like "I can run marathons" or "I can hold a note for twelve and a half years" or "I can fit my fist into my mouth," but the weird things I think I have proficient skill in.  So here is my list (and no list would be complete without a picture of a 50's housewife cooking something).



Ryan's Completely Irrelevant Obscure Talents That Only Apply To Him and Are Only Being Used To Clear His Head As To Delay The Oncoming Insanity Down The Road List:

1. Ability to quickly memorize (and remember) the tune and lyrics to songs. Yes, I'm going to sing along in the car and I don't care if you like it or not.
2. Remembering people's names I meet once, only once, and never again.  The name stays forever.  People I meet multiple times?  Nope, out the window (mostly because I'm afraid I know it but I'm actually wrong, like Colton and Colter.)
3. A quick learner.  Not just quick as in I learn it in a week, I get that shit ingrained in a couple days.  Except math because math positively correlates with Satan.
4. Knowledge on how to properly launder different fabrics.
5. Only able to nap face-down and sleep face-up.
6. Liking animals.
7. I can fold better than you.
8. And your mom
9. Being over-prepared with clothing choices when I go on vacation.
10. Keeping shoes in a decent condition for long periods of time (I still have shoes from 7th grade).
11. Little fear of public bathrooms
12. Opening things with my teeth
13. Enjoying seeing movies (in a theatre) alone.
14. Remembering faces FOREVER. Run into you in random setting and don't know you? This explains why I'm staring at you. Sorry stranger.
15. Remembering how to spell the word vinaigrette since it was my losing word in a Jr. high spelling bee.
16. I will remember exactly how to get to somewhere if I've been there before. Don't be scared I know how to get to your house when you pointed it out that single time.
17. Making lists of more than 10 things but below 20


I think I now am contractually obligated to do the polar opposite now...

Things Ryan Lacks In Skill. Like Great Amounts Of Skill Since They Are Things Most People And Chimps Can Do...List:

1. Basketball
2. When asked what my "Strengths and weaknesses are"=mind blackout
3. Forgetting how to correctly form a speaking sentence during conversation.
4. Having "bitch-face" as my resting face--and I will NOT slap some painful smile on eternally to please you thin-skinned whiners who ask me why I'm "angry" all of the time. *throws chair through window*
5. Playing Call of Duty
6. Super Procrastination!
7. I will forget your birthday
8. I will forget your name
9. I will forget my name
10. Forever misspelling occasionally
11. When writing, putting the letters of the word in the sentence three words away in the word I'm writing.  If the sentence was "I'm going to go see a movie." I might write, "I'm going to gm." and then I writhe on the floor in shame.
12. Appreciating snow
13. Liking your ugly baby
14. Burning whatever I'm making just a little bit. This includes cereal.
15. Never being able to come up with a really good comeback until hours after the conversation had occurred.
16. Never making a To-do list.
17. Making a To-list once and losing it.
18. Having small meltdowns when I lose something completely replaceable and not really lost (e.g. wallet, phone, headphones, baby, etc.)
19. Tripping on the least trippable objects like miniscule pebbles and straw.
20. Spilling a dark sauce onto light colored clothing with no option to change for hours.

Mind distraction complete!