A Peek At His Cards

Like a plague on my social network, I’ve lost a lot of people I thought would always be there.  It’s been a rough summer.

I’ve experienced a lot of pain from a lot of different things going on in my life, from failed relationships to terminal grandparents.  But nothing has made me blubber to snotting more than when, in the midst of these situations, all I’ve wanted to do is talk to one of my old friends and crumbled under the weight of attempting to hold it all up on my own in their absence.

I process everything externally and, given I haven’t had the outlet to do so, I began having a lot of nightmares as my subconscious tried to deal with the issues I didn’t know how to on my own.

But I just realized that it’s been a good week or so since my last nightmare.  I can assure you it is not because my problems have disappeared.  On the contrary, they’ve only grown.  But something is different.

For starters, I’m learning to trust in some people I’m not used to trusting in.  But it isn’t just that.

I’m learning that my modus operandi is to turn to people first.  Because I process things by talking to people, I think I underestimate the value, the benefit, the NECESSITY of talking things out with God.  I assume that I can only figure things out if I hear someone talking back to me.  But something tells me I’m wrong.

He wants me to turn to Him.  FIRST.  This is not natural for me.

It’s times like these that make me feel green.

But green is good.  Green is growth.

{a brief interruption}

No worries, the adventures associated with working on a farm have not ceased.  Rather, I’ve lost my inspiration to write.  I’ll find it soon…

In the meanwhile, these are things I’m thinking about…

…

Having a cat reminds me of what a horrible person I am every time I rush out to my car in the morning and don’t spend a lot of time petting her because she feels gross and it does nothing for me.

…

People are taught humility or shame about nakedness.  Think about it.

Little kids are totally cool with people wiping their butts.

…

If I don’t break down and buy some cokes to drink at home, I’m going to inadvertently become an alcoholic.

…

I can’t be convinced of anything.

No, really.  I can’t.

…

I’m no longer going to refrigerate fruit until they are at their peak of ripeness.

Crunchy peaches benefit no one.

…

I long for companionship, yet I’m completely overwhelmed by it.

{Deactivated facebook only to exponentially increase twitter usage}

…

I’m not convinced that my hair has grown AT ALL since I pruned the budding mullet in the back over two months ago.

…

My subconscious is pih-ih-ihsssssssssssed off at me.  Just ask me some time about my nightly dreams of alligators, public transportation disasters, and the end of the world.

…

People really shouldn’t always say, “Good answer!  Good answer!” on “The Family Feud”…

Rarely is it a good answer.  It’s either an obvious one or absolutely non sequitur.

…

I think I’m going to install a foot hammock underneath my desk.

…

And that concludes tonight’s broadcast.

Tune in next time for the next, thrilling installment of  ”On the Animal Farm“.

Yes. It’s Monday.

Yesterday, September Alliance, just two days from their first ever concert at Avenue L Coffeehouse,  had their first photo shoot with award winning photographer and friend, Cio!

Note to the wise:  Do not jump from high places, barefoot, onto the asphalt while holding someone’s hand, one on either side.  You will not let go in time and you will somehow manage to not only bruise the bottom of your foot and eat the asphalt, since you do not have use of your hands to brace the impact, but you will also produce an unusable picture seeing as the shutter will capture you struck with fear as you realize you are crashing down to your doom.

In the course of artistic events, my sunglasses {at the time being worn by our newest addition Chris Nelson, the percussionaut} somehow were strewn about to the grass beside a silo outside of the feed store we were looking sexy in front of in some sort of emphatic gesture involving the words “Well, if RYAN isn’t wearing glasses then IIIIi’m not wearing glasses EITHER.”  I was too distracted to notice as I was having a flashback to the No Doubt video “Don’t Speak” as Cio asked me to move around to the front.

We searched for the glasses for ages in “the love van” that took us to the photo shoot, which, in and of itself,  is a whole other story involving musicians making sweet, sweet music on a mattress in the back of said “love van”; it was  very BlackCabSession-like.

This morning, Cio remembered Chris’s facetious diva tantrum and the final resting place of my sunglasses just as I was beginning the 4th stage of grief.

As I drove to work, I thought about stopping by the feed store, but considering it’s in the tiny yet overly stoplighted heart of downtown and I both live and work on the outskirts, I decided against it.  As I was taking the makeshift “loop” around town, I passed a different feed store.

Then, proceeded to consider stopping there to look for my sunglasses,  since, you know, they’re both feed stores…

… And this is how I know it’s Monday.

{this is the only good to come of today}

I just got the distinct feeling that the banana I was eating wanted me to know that she and peanut butter are best friends and would prefer to be together whenever possible.

{I think they LIKE like each other…}

… and then we found a roach and Cio screamed…

If you don’t have a pair of barbecue tongs to pick up a pile of dirty man clothes that have mystically congealed into a solid mass, gallon sized Ziploc bags work.

… But I’d still recommend the freezer bags if you can find them…