If you see me riding my bike

Then please hit me with your car.

No, do it, don't even hesitate.  I promise, it won't hurt that much...ok, it will probably hurt a lot, just do it.

Something in my head recently told me it was irresponsible to drive my car to the gym that is 3 blocks away when I could ride my bike/run there.  Of course this comes with the price of pain.

I like to keep in shape, but I've never really biked recreationally before and it's...difficult.

Just on my way to school

-I'm scared of getting hit by cars

-My legs burn like the 7th level of hell since the gym is downhill on the way there and (obviously) uphill on the way back

-My bike is from the late 70's/early 80's and the gears are very touchy and in the middle of the bike underneath the handlebar.  Meaning I wobble like a goon whenever I try to change gears (this is where the getting hit by cars comes into the picture).

-Cars

-I still don't know the hand signals for turning

-FLATTENED BY AN AUTOMOBILE

And running is no better you guys.  I'm going to go against my own word for a sec, bear with me:  Running is worse than getting to school and realizing you forgot to study for a test, you're in the wrong class...and you're naked.  Also a dog bit you on the way to school and then he talked smack about your mom.

Yet, I still go running.

What's wrong with me?  Maybe it's all the preservatives I've been eating this week and they're triggering something that makes me guilty about not exercising.  That or I've been infected with that hippie college virus I hear about.  I almost got out of University clean you guys, why now? I don't have money for a Prius.  Next thing you know I'll be composting all my old food and wearing Tevas with socks.

On that day, you can hit me with your car.


Sidenote:  Ok guys, I have jumped on the Lana Del Rey train many months late, but I'm a little obsessed right now.  Something about her voice is so haunting...

The grocery stores are mocking me

They really are, I can tell you guys.

Walking into the local Smith's and everything, basically any item that I would like one of is on sale for 10 for 10$

Ryan, what are you talking about that's a great deal.

No internet person, it's not.  I do not need ten of something, I don't have 20 small children living in my backyard...I sure hope I don't at least.  If I had bought ten of everything I had needed one of, I would have spent over 200$ and would have to eat the same thing FOR ETERNITY.

Grocery stores, why you make life difficult for Ryan?  Buy 10 of something?  Oh no?  Then buy one and it's as much as FIVE

*sigh*

I just thought I'd share my shopping woes with ya'll, you have to listen, right?  Let's move on to action movies though.

Recently I've seen quite a few action movies, most of which I was less than pleased with.

 *cough Snow White cough*

Well, I started noticing a regular trend in the extras in some of these action movies and sometimes just the movie set itself.  Let's start with the extras during times of distress:

Alien creatures with laser guns are taking over the earth, what do you do!?  Quick!  Run into the crumbling skyscraper and let's watch what happens behind these large GLASS, EASILY SHATTERABLE GLASS, panes.

I don't know about you, but when running from death (not that I do that often guys...), I don't stand behind an object that is:
 1) See-through
 2) Weak
 3) Will cut a bitch up if it breaks.
 I also certainly DO NOT stick around and watch what's going to happen.  Do you know what kind of people those are?  Those are people who wear Crocs and if they are vaporized by a stray alien laser, it was meant to be.

I'M GOING TO RUN FOR THE HILLS

Also, can we just talk about the villains in some of these movies?

3 out of the many movies I saw had aliens as the bad guy.  All of which were trying to destroy/take over earth for their own control.  Let us discuss why on in particular were just terrible bad guys.

-Technology advanced enough to travel millions of miles through space in addition to force fields that trap all the good guys in a certain perimeter.  Hey, let's not use the force fields on our own ships!  Also, somehow a couple shots from earth boats can destroy us! Fancy that!  (Battleship...I was not amused.  If there had been one more cliche'd staring contest between characters/lines of stating the obvious, I would have walked out.).

You know, I'm going to stop ranting and just say this:

-The only redeeming quality in Battleship was the fact that it didn't burst into flames while we watched it (Why were you in a movie Rihanna...why...)

-Prometheus was rather enjoyable.  Although, I get squeamish around blood and such so I definitely made the 'ew' noises half the time.

-Snow White, why were there SO MANY single tears down the cheek.  No one ever full on cried, just one. Single. Effing. Tear.

Avengers was great and I won't bash on the bad guys since I honestly don't know the back-story of the Avengers so I just watched it for the joy of action and explosions.  Yay, 'splosions and shit...

So basically I've been spending all my time in dark movie theaters cringing about underdeveloped story lines and bad acting.  Oh yeah, and I just finished up my second class for the summer, that happened.  I can't legally therapize* you, but I can pretend to! *wink*

Seriously, don't ask me to.  You'll end up some sort of Jack the Ripper/Ted Bundy type character and then I'll go to jail.  I can't go back there you guys.





*Therapize: (Verb) The act of giving therapy to someone.  My professor decided to coin this term and it has stuck with me since saying "I'm going to give therapy" or "Let's therapize" just takes so long to say.  Doesn't "Imma therapize you!" just roll off the tongue better?

I'm going to be mighty prideful

Oh Pride...

The last weekend I spent up in good ol' Salty Lake City to celebrate the...pridefulness (?) that is pride.  Yes, gay Pride.  Because I'm gay...I hope most people get that by now.  Not enough? Gay gay gay gay gay.  Ah, I think that's enough or do I need to insert pictures or rainbows and unicorns in here?  Here you go.

Golly that's majestic

All jokes aside, I really did enjoy all the shenanigans that my friends did get me involved in which included:

-Making shirts that said, "Baby, I was Born This GAY"  Where the gay was in big glitter letters.  Mine were pink.  I didn't pick the color although I have nothing against pink, just not my first choice.

-A plethora of pool parties which resulted in my shoulders being gnarily (like gnarly, but more so) sunburned and me wanting to die.

-Hearing WAY too much club music for a good year or so.  Oh Regina Spektor, you're going to be playing while my ears recover...

-Attending the pride parade and receiving a whole bag of things thrown at me (including the bag), most of which were condoms and candy.  Of course, my friends stole all the candy so now I just have a big bag of plastic *ba dum tss* Any takers?

-Attending pride festival after said parade which resulted in more sunburns, more strangers I had to meet, more free stuff, pictures taken with different booths (such as the Trevor Project cause they're awesome), and listening to even more club music.

I'm going to relate this to Christmas for a sec guys, k?  Christmas you say...what?

Yeah, I'm confusing myself too but I'm going to attribute it to all the terrible action movies I've seen lately.  I DON'T HAVE TO MAKE SENSE EVER.

A lot of the time people get caught up with the festivities and start to forget what the whole point of the festivities are (there, do you get the Christmas connection now? No?  Well keep reading and if you don't you can call me and complain.  Of course, I'm going to ignore your call because I know why you're calling...*sigh* You know what?  Just...just go away).  Anyways, the point of it all, what is it?

Look, it's Ryan. (Literally what came
 up when I google'd 'rainbow')

A whole bunch of the crowd gets caught up in the parties and takes for granted something that is pretty special.

Here we have a weekend where a bunch of people get to get together and celebrate togetherness.

Equality.

Pride in all that we were born into.

Whatever it is you are, you're special and appreciated.

Acceptance.

I honestly haven't ever been to such an event where I can be proud of who I am and celebrate that fact with other people who are proud to be who they are.  Gays, Bisexuals, Transgender, Drag Queens, Cyber Sluts (don't google that), people with fetishes, people without fetishes, people who like glitter, people who don't, people who are religious*, people who aren't, and straight people.  Literally, a celebration of differences about being together--if that makes any sense.

Our culture already has such a hard time with accepting itself with things like weight and appearance so I see only good things come from people who are able to accept themselves and happy to share it with others.

I'm going to get all sappy with you guys for a second if you guys can take that.

When I first came out as a gay teenager in suburbian Utah, I wasn't ok with myself.  I had put so much weight on myself on something that I had deemed wrong and not ok that it started getting to me.  Many a late night were devoted to self-loathing and wishing I was different.  Of course, here I am now.

I've been asked before if I ever regretted coming out.  I'm sure if you had asked me that right after I had, I would have said yes.  Yes, this is scary and I would rather going back to being unnoticed and "normal."  Of course, now I've seen what it has done for me.  It's made me a stronger person, more aware of who I am and who I want to be, brave, and more willing to accept others.  I took all the differences that brought me down and used them to build me into something better.

So no, no I do not regret coming out at all, I'm very proud I did it and now don't regret it for a second.

I'm sincerely glad I was able to participate in something so centered around with truly being who you are.  That it is okay to be "different" than the masses.  That it is okay to stand out and speak out.

 That it is okay to shout at people passing by as your glitter shirt sparkles in the sun.

Happy Pride.



Sidenote: I have a friend who put this experience into words quite more eloquently than I have and it's by far something that is worth reading.  A tad nerdy with some Matrix references, but I like it.  With his permission, here you go kiddos: http://kylecranney.blogspot.com/2012/06/glitch-in-matrix-pride_04.html

*On the note of religious people, seeing the group 'Mormons Building Bridges' march in the parade made my day.  It's always great to see those reaching out to try and make better a community.

Friendship is Weird

Preface:  A conversation over text between my good friend and I.  He had blood poisoning which gave him high fevers, fever dreams (hallucinations), and caused the blood vessels in his eyes to burst along with him laying in bed and not shaving for several days.  We both agreed that he really was just turning into the demon we know he is.

R:  Damnit!

T: Lol What?

R:  J. Crew called...I had to turn it down

T: Damn, I'm sorry! :(

At least you don't look like this!

R: Ah! Demon! *hissss*

T:

R: I just hate you

T: I just took those for you :)

R: I know, I hate you

T: Did I get you to smile?

R: Yes, you're the worst

T: Yes, Yes I am. Will you marry me?

R: Omg, the ring better give me back problems.

T: Oh, honey! That's not the only thang. K, peaches?

R: Oh yes muffin scruffin!

T:  Eww you win. I hated that one...

R:  Bahaha, yessssss

Let's celebrate the weird bond that is friendship since some people just get you.  This summarizes mine.  Miss you friend.

We Always Have Good Intentions, Our Brains Are Just Idiots

The night: Sunday
The time: 10pm
The place: my bathroom
My sanity: gone

"Nick, I think I'm going to give myself a haircut."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"...well, I have the guards for my clippers now, so I'll be fine."

"Whatever"

*Much time buzzing and giggling like a tweenage girl when a clump of hair falls out later...*

"AH!"

"Did you mess up?"

"No! A lot just fell out, it looks...decent" as I take off the clipper guard

*Bzzzzzzzz*

Under my breath, "Shit..." as I carve stripes into my sides, "Come look at this, I need to know what the back looks like."

Enter Nick, commence staring, commence a wide smile, commence laughing

"That bad, huh?"

"Actually, the front looks fine, the back's all crooked though. Take a picture with your phone."

*Click*

"AHHH!"

"Told you, I think you're going to have to go all the way."

"No, I can fix this..."

"I don't think you can."

"Nick...I don't want to be bald..."

*5 minutes of giggling, crying and debating later*

"I'm going to do it, I'm going all the way."

*Bzzzzzz*

"AH!...I didn't realize I had so much hair.'

"It looks like a hair monster."

"You're going to wake up in the middle of the night with that in your bed."

"That's why I'm sleeping on the couch."

So...I shaved my head you guys, Britney style.  That same night, I went out and beat cars with an umbrella, it was pretty fun (10 points if you actually get that reference).

For some reason, I think it's usually a good idea to try and cut my own hair.  This has happened before but I stopped myself before things became irreversible.  This time, my crazy got the best of me.

First, let me start with the things I dislike about this:
-My head is eternally cold, I was not aware how much my hair did in terms of being a hat
-One of my friends described me as, "a bald elf...who has no friends"
-I've realized that my hairline is rather funky, but I'M NOT GOING BALD
-When I sweat, it goes straight to my eyes
-My hair can no longer cover up my blemishes
-I've become all eyebrows
-My head has become infinitely smaller, or more noticeably so
- I can no longer twiddle with my locks/grab it in frustration for shaving my head

I do have to say there are upsides though.  What? Upsides to being bald?  There can be no such thing.  Well disbelieving computer nerd, I'm going to blow your mind.  Or at least make you read something.  I really can't even force you to read it, you just can...please read it:
-I never have to do my hair
-I'm a lot cooler when it's hot outside
-I can lay down without worrying that my hair will get matted/crazy
-I don't have to do my hair
-Washing hair? So 5 days ago
-Hat all the time? Yes, please
-I think this gives me more street cred
-I can't stop feeling the fuzz on my cranium
-If anyone ever needs a good laugh, they need just to glance upon my scalp
-Did I mention how I don't have to do my hair?


See? Good things and bad things to losing all the fluff on top.  Not to mention there's really nothing I can do about it now other than get used to it and not sunburn my head.  Lord knows it hasn't ever seen the sunlight. Here's to first time baldness.

 Hi, my name's Ryan.  I'm bald...yeah that's it.

Well, I'm Not Dead Yet: Part 3

Hey Ryan, I'm getting really sick of reading your story, when are you going to write something not pre-written?

 Really?  Well that's too bad and probably not for a little while.  I'll be honest and say that currently I'm a little stressed from over-reflecting on my mind (a rather scary place similar to Mordor/Dante's Inferno/7th level of hell) so at least I'm giving you something.

 The least I can say is it proves that I'm not just wasting away on my couch watching Star Trek and spooning peanut butter from the jar.  I'm doing all that WITH my laptop typing this.  Eventually I'll go to the store as well, NOT in sweatpants.  Wow Ryan, you're setting such high goals for yourself.  I know guys, next thing you know I'll be curing cancer/saving whales/learning to longboard.

Ugh, that all made my fingers exhausted.  If only I can reach ctrl+v....

Part 3:

Chapter 7: Coming to Terms with Coming Out

            Not that my sexuality is a secret by now, but why wouldn’t I want to explain how it happened?

            Picture this, a green Subaru speeding along a freeway with two passengers.  It’s probably about 5 o’clock and the sky is slowly starting to turn orange.  One passenger is severely stressed.

            Yes, that passenger is me.  You see, a couple days prior I had agreed with my friends Sara and Austin that I’d tell my mother I was gay while we traveled to Cedar City.  The thoughts that entered my mind were something like these:

·         We’re going to crash when I tell her, she’ll swerve the car and we’re going to die

·         I think I’m going to pee my pants

·         Shit, then I’m going to be stuck in the car in awkward silence, I know it

·         I could always just open the door and roll out, that’s a better alternative

·         What if I just stayed quiet, she’ll figure it out eventually

·         We’re going to crash, I know it

·         Death, I’m dead, I’m dead.

·         She has to know, I played with My Little Pony’s

·         What’s the worst that could happen? Oh right, car crash.

·         Pull it together

Fortunately for me, I opened my big mouth and some words came out.  Namely three words that took about a half hour to say.

            “Mom…I’m gay…”

Well, I'm Not Dead Yet: Part 2

Just a quick note about my "book."  I wrote it really incoherently and acted like there were chapters before some chapters so that's why it might sound strange.*  So here we go ya'll, on to part 2.

Chapter 1: You Have to Start Somewhere

            We’d all like to say that we grew up as the kid down the street.  You know, the one who was good at sports, attractive, good in school, and volunteered at the animal shelter in their spare time.  You obviously must think that this fine description of a human being must have been me.  No?  Yeah, I don’t either. 

            Instead of Adonis child picture a gangly, lanky, glasses-wearing, recluse who was rather good at Pokémon in his basement, who also enjoyed sewing and cooking.  Now we’re getting somewhere in the ballpark.

            Try as my father did, I never excelled in sports (soccer mainly due to my Bolivian heritage) and was that nerdy quiet kid in school who the teachers loved and other kids associated with.  It definitely wasn’t much to start from, but at least it was something.

            Despite my obvious street cred, there were others who didn’t express joy in my general company which takes us to a warm spring day in 5^th grade.

            Even though I had had my best friend move at least a state away from my city consecutively for the past five years (yes, five friends moved away from me in elementary school, can you say popular?) I had started to break out my hermit-like shell and try and make a new friend.  Like me, Joe** was gangly and awkward and generally speaking, it doesn’t take much to constitute friendship for 11 year olds.  We spent many a day looking at clouds or him playing basketball while I did the best I could to fake it.  What more could I ask for?  A trust fund, but at this time I wasn’t concerned with such things.  What I got instead was the baggage that came along with my new friend. 

            Since I was now at a New Elementary school (the previous had been closed and turned into a deaf and blind school) I was easy prey for those with low self-esteem.  Joseph had been attending this school from the beginning of his education meaning he the other kids and had previous friends.  One in particular was Sam.  Maybe it was my large Harry Potter-like glasses or my obvious disinterest and lack of talent at sports that enticed him to choose me as his personal entertainment, I’ll really never know.  What I did know was that Sam did not like me and due to some cosmic joke, he and Joe were rather good friends.

            Well one day as I usually did on a lot of school days, I invited Joe over to my house to “hang-out” since cool kids “hung-out,” they didn’t “play.” 

“Hey is it all right if Sam comes with me?” He said on the phone when I called.

“Oh…yeah sure, why not?” I replied, probably some small twinge of terror/death in my voice.

How could my best friend be bringing my worst enemy to my house?  I’d just have to deal with it I figured. 

Some minutes passed as I awaited their arrival until I finally heard the doorbell ring.  I turned the door, saw both their faces, pushed the screen door open and was then suddenly pelted in the face.  I sat there confused as I saw a little piece of my paper fall to the ground and my friend and nemesis running away laughing.  “What just happened?” I thought to myself and then decided to open the paper on the ground.  In crude 11 year old writing was one word scribbled hastily:

LOSER

*To clarify: I jump around with the chapter numbers since I felt like that's where they'd be in the book if I actually wrote a book.  This is chapter 1.  I felt like it should have been first, so it is.  One thing that frustrated one reader of my story was also how it abruptly ended a lot.  Explanation for that: It's more like a preview of a book than an actual book.  I couldn't just keep writing forever people, loosen your choker necklaces.  What?  No one wears those anymore?  Oh, that was the 90's you say... *rolls into the street*

**I've changed the names from my original story just in case you might actually know these people.  I think it's a common courtesy.