Due to the fact that I feel guilty about not putting anything up recently informing about my current goings-on (which things have been happening and stuff and things and blah), I decided to share this story that I wrote with you today. I will preface this with that I wrote this under a mindset that would best be described as...disturbed. I think that's enough detail.
I was responding to a friend's e-mail where the subject line she sent me was: "Who'd have thought it was possible to miss sheep?"
Here was my response:
You know, I think that it is possible to miss sheep. Once when I was a very small child, I had a small sheep; I named him Reginald McFluffypants of Yorkshire the III (or Reg, for short). Well, Reg and I would do all sorts of activities together to pass the time: boggle, running, crocheting, shuffleboard; we were the best of friends. Then one day while I was at school, Reginald decided that he needed more stimulation in life. "Life isn't just about shuffleboard! I need something more. MORE I SAY!" With that, he slammed the door and I didn't hear from him for a long time. That was until one day when I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize.
Upon answering, I could tell that it was Reginald. He had sold his fur to buy carrots and had nothing left to sell (oh, he was also heavily addicted to crack). I searched the dank city far and wide until I found the small hovel he was staying in. "No, don't look at me!" he said as I walked in the door. He was on a stained mattress with a bottle of coke and a loaf of bread surrounding him; it was bleak. "Ryan...I don't have long..." he whispered in my ear, "But I just wanted to say...I always hated shuffleboard." With that out of the way, Reginald died in my arms, leaving me nothing but a cold husk and shoddy lambskin.
Happy first week of school.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Pie
I'm late. I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late. This thought occurred over and over as I drove towards the Marie Calendar's on the other side of town. The plan had been to meet at eight o'clock, order a couple pies to share, and go from there. Despite the fact that I'm perpetually late for most things, it still gives me more stress than if I were to open my freezer and find decapitated baby dolls in there with a note in scrawled letters that read, "I like eating your toenail clippings."
Driving up to the Marie Calendar's, I saw the time was 8:15. It wasn't the worst; I figured that everyone would be sitting down and just beginning to order so I would definitely wouldn't be the last person there. Opening the door, I was greeted by two familiar faces; Russell and Spencer. They were sitting by the fireplace looking...early.
"No one else is here yet?" I asked.
"What did you expect going to dinner with a bunch of Mormons?" said Spencer, a punctual Mormon.
It was true.
Over the past few years, my high school friends have organized small gatherings here and there to bring the whole gang back together. Sometimes these occasions are brought on by a marriage of one of our cohorts, or simply because everyone is in the same town at the same time--they usually happen is the point that I'm trying to get across. Since we have gone our different ways in life and a lot of us might not have much in common anymore, these meetings have become somewhat of a "catch-me-up" event. Who's dating who, who's knocked up, who's getting married, who got arrested--just stuff like that; not to mention there's always the question of, "If we had met now in life, would we be friends?," But I try and disregard that as we have the "high-school bond" and that I do enjoy these people's company.
About five minutes after getting our table the rest of the gang showed up. By that point, a few of us had ordered individual slices of pie and our original plan had gone out the window. But screw the plan and onto the gossip!
We brought up new jobs, graduate programs, undergraduate programs; basically all those things in life where we just cry a little bit inside when we think about our futuredebt lives. It was nice to focus on our dearest Angelee for a while as we prodded her about her dating life until it came time to question me about my recent trip. Oh, by the way, I just went to China*. I was slightly obligated to fill my friends in.
Friend 1: Wait, where did you go?
Ryan: China. I got back last Saturday.
Friend 1: Really? That's crazy. How long were you there?
Ryan: Seven months.
Friend 2: I always know what you're doing because I read your blog.
Ryan: Yeah...I really gotta keep that thing up better. Weird story: people in my city found out about my blog.
Friend 2: How did that happen?
Ryan: I was at a birthday dinner when one of the Chinese guys there heard my name and said, "Wait...do you have a blog?" My friends told me there was only one other Ryan in the entire city and they assumed he didn't have a blog. I was a little afraid because things I wrote about my city might not be considered the...nicest.
Friend 4: That's so crazy. Small world, I guess.
Ryan: Yeah, so I guess I'm slightly internet famous! (I think it's right above the daily arrests and below the obituary)
Friend 2: I really do think your blog is funny. Though, if someone reading it didn't know you very well, they might think you're always about to kill yourself.
Ryan: What?
Friend 3: Yeah, if [the reader] didn't know you, you can seem a little moody.
*Nods from around the table in agreement.*
Ryan: Oh. Well, I guess I'll try and sound less...suicidal.
Friend 1: Don't worry, we still think you're funny.
Friend 3: You're probably going to blog about this, huh?
Ryan: No...
*Yes, now I can use this as one of those conversational ice-breakers FOR EVERY CONVERSATION EVER. "Oh, you look tired." "Yeah, well I just went to CHINA."; "Would you like a little more cheese on your pasta, sir?" "Cheese on your CHINA?!"; "I'm going into lab--" "CHINA. DID YOU KNOW I WENT THERE." (I really promise that I'm not going to be that guy, (You know, the one who has to tell you about that one thing he did every time he finds an opportunity to insert it into conversation.) but I might bring it up from time to time. I call it playing the "China Card." Haven't seen me in awhile and I demand time for you to see me? China card. I demand cheesecake for lunch and macaroni for dinner? China card.)
Driving up to the Marie Calendar's, I saw the time was 8:15. It wasn't the worst; I figured that everyone would be sitting down and just beginning to order so I would definitely wouldn't be the last person there. Opening the door, I was greeted by two familiar faces; Russell and Spencer. They were sitting by the fireplace looking...early.
"No one else is here yet?" I asked.
"What did you expect going to dinner with a bunch of Mormons?" said Spencer, a punctual Mormon.
It was true.
Over the past few years, my high school friends have organized small gatherings here and there to bring the whole gang back together. Sometimes these occasions are brought on by a marriage of one of our cohorts, or simply because everyone is in the same town at the same time--they usually happen is the point that I'm trying to get across. Since we have gone our different ways in life and a lot of us might not have much in common anymore, these meetings have become somewhat of a "catch-me-up" event. Who's dating who, who's knocked up, who's getting married, who got arrested--just stuff like that; not to mention there's always the question of, "If we had met now in life, would we be friends?," But I try and disregard that as we have the "high-school bond" and that I do enjoy these people's company.
About five minutes after getting our table the rest of the gang showed up. By that point, a few of us had ordered individual slices of pie and our original plan had gone out the window. But screw the plan and onto the gossip!
We brought up new jobs, graduate programs, undergraduate programs; basically all those things in life where we just cry a little bit inside when we think about our future
Friend 1: Wait, where did you go?
Ryan: China. I got back last Saturday.
Friend 1: Really? That's crazy. How long were you there?
Ryan: Seven months.
Friend 2: I always know what you're doing because I read your blog.
Ryan: Yeah...I really gotta keep that thing up better. Weird story: people in my city found out about my blog.
Friend 2: How did that happen?
Ryan: I was at a birthday dinner when one of the Chinese guys there heard my name and said, "Wait...do you have a blog?" My friends told me there was only one other Ryan in the entire city and they assumed he didn't have a blog. I was a little afraid because things I wrote about my city might not be considered the...nicest.
Friend 4: That's so crazy. Small world, I guess.
Ryan: Yeah, so I guess I'm slightly internet famous! (I think it's right above the daily arrests and below the obituary)
Friend 2: I really do think your blog is funny. Though, if someone reading it didn't know you very well, they might think you're always about to kill yourself.
Ryan: What?
Friend 3: Yeah, if [the reader] didn't know you, you can seem a little moody.
*Nods from around the table in agreement.*
Ryan: Oh. Well, I guess I'll try and sound less...suicidal.
Friend 1: Don't worry, we still think you're funny.
Friend 3: You're probably going to blog about this, huh?
Ryan: No...
*Yes, now I can use this as one of those conversational ice-breakers FOR EVERY CONVERSATION EVER. "Oh, you look tired." "Yeah, well I just went to CHINA."; "Would you like a little more cheese on your pasta, sir?" "Cheese on your CHINA?!"; "I'm going into lab--" "CHINA. DID YOU KNOW I WENT THERE." (I really promise that I'm not going to be that guy, (You know, the one who has to tell you about that one thing he did every time he finds an opportunity to insert it into conversation.) but I might bring it up from time to time. I call it playing the "China Card." Haven't seen me in awhile and I demand time for you to see me? China card. I demand cheesecake for lunch and macaroni for dinner? China card.)
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