For the past nine years I've been driving by Sandwich High School, staring up at the giant brick building, thinking "One day, I'll be graduating there." Three weeks ago, I took my first step towards graduation.
When you walk into the gargantuan brick building you automatically get discombobulated. Three floors, about a hundred rooms, roughly six hundred fifty people (including teachers) walking up and down the hallways, long hallways that turn this way and that... within five minutes, you're bound to get lost.
Thankfully, there are some friendly upperclassmen that have been through this first-day anxiety, and know where everything is. I remember on my first day I got lost looking for the Algebra room, and a Senior pointed it out. Turns out I was only about ten feet away from the room.
Don't even get me started on the daily schedule. Everyone's schedule is different. All the classes get out at different times. The schedule is so complicated, there's even a separate schedule for lunch period! And to make matters worse, as soon a you get used to one schedule, it totally changes the next week, and you're brain has to recalculate a route for you to get to each class on time, and in the correct order. Your brain becomes something like those annoying little GPS systems people get for their cars. You think you know the right way to go, but the system gives you much more confusing route.
Walk fifty feet, then turn left.
"No, I'm pretty sure, I keep going straight."
Walk two feet, then turn left.
"Sorry, but I'm still not turning."
Recalculating... walk twenty feet, then make legal U-turn.
"What are you talking about? My class is right here!"
Now approaching... Girl's Bathroom.
"Crap!"
But it's actually not that bad, because I have my mental GPS's voice set to a sexy swimsuit model voice, so it's kind of soothing... Better than that nagging voice you usually get with GPS systems.
Anywho, I've adapted to life as a Freshman fairly quickly, and, I never thought I'd ever say this in my life, but I'm actually glad to be in school. It's actually pretty fun. I'm participating in some after-school clubs, such as Knights Theater Company (our school mascot is a blue knight), (We had a very interesting conversation about sleep-walking, and the never-ending expansion of the universe in that club.)
I'm also glad to say I'm scoring proficiently in all of my classes, which is a huge improvement for me. So far, high school looks like it will be quite an experience, and this is only the beginning.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Do I Know Why I Pulled You Over?
It was a typical Friday morning. We were driving up the highway towards Plymouth, heading to visit my Nana. Jack was in the front-passenger seat, while Mike and I were in the back. I was listening to Green Day on my iPod, the volume turned up just enough to block out the noise of the traffic rushing by us outside.
Then, I heard my mom say something in the driver's seat in front of me. I didn't pay much attention to it. We were in the left lane of the highway, and my mom kept driving until she saw her chance to cross over to the right lane. It was when she pulled over to the breakdown lane that I took one of my ear buds out to ask what was going on.
My Mom was silent for a minute. Had the car broken down? Were we out of gas? Did we run over something?
Then, I saw someone walk by my window, and I realized he was a cop. That's when it hit me.
My mom had gotten pulled over.
He was fairly tall, dark skin, wearing a blue button-up tee shirt, along with black trousers, a police hat, and to top off the intimidating cop-look, a pair of large, dark sunglasses.
He cautiously approached the driver's window, most likely to make sure my mom wasn't some lunatic bearing a handgun, or some other type of weapon. Yeah, I thought, Like a married lady, with three children is prepared to attack a policed officer.
"The speed limit on this highway is 60 miles per hour," he told my mother in a deep voice.
"Okay," my mom replied, "What was I going?"
"Seventy-four," he said earnestly, all this time keeping a serious, no-bull face, behind those dark shades of his.
"Oh," was all mom could say.
"You were also driving in the left lane, which is strictly a passing lane."
"Okay," my mom agreed.
"Is speeding a habit for you?" he asked.
"No," my mom said, curiously.
"Is driving in the left lane a habit for you?"
"No," mom replied again.
"May I see your license and registration?" he requested.
Oh boy, I thought. Speeding ticket.
The police officer walked back to his cruiser to look up mom's record, and do the usual legal stuff cops do when they pull someone over. I've watched episodes of "Cops" with my dad before, and I pictured the officer talking to the camera guy, narrating the current situation at hand;
"We've got a typical soccer-mom here. She's showing signs of road-rage, which could explain the speeding. She's most likely in a hurry to get one of the three kids in the car to a practice, or something. I'll check her record, and then search the car for any cocaine, alcohol, or weapons, and probably give her a sobriety test as well. Just to be safe."
I then pictured him sending a message through his radio, requesting back-up in case "things got messy."
We waited for about five minutes, until he came back, holding some papers.
"Well," he said, "You haven't had a speeding citation since the nineties, which is good. But I did follow you for two miles in the left lane. Now, a ticket for driving in the left lane amounts to around one-hundred thirty dollars, but I've knocked it down to twenty dollars for you."
He continued to explain just how important it is to avoid staying in the left lane on the highway. As he did so, I tried to count the dozens of other cars on the highway that were driving in the left lane, most likely going seventy-plus mph.
After his speech was over, he directed mom to- and I quote- "Accelerate, get up to highway-speed, then verge over to the right lane."
Emphasis on "right".
I figured this guy took his job very seriously, and hadn't seen too much action in a while. I assumed he was clocking everyone's speed on the highway. Then, out of the hundreds of drivers going seventy mph. on the highway, he picked one car (in this case, a red Toyota Camry), and pulled it over, hoping to use up some of his tickets on some innocent citizens. Once he pulled mom over, he gave her the usual "Do-you-know-how-fast-you-were-driving?" lecture. Then, to add to the seriousness of the matter, he informs you that you have committed not just one misdemeanor, but two, and sucker-punches you with a twenty-dollar ticket for driving in the left lane.
Now, I'm not criticizing this guy for being a jerk, and ticketing my mom just because she was one of the many who were in the passing-only lane, but you gotta admit, it's kinda ridiculous. Her record is almost spotless (or so she tells me), with the exception of one or two minor speeding violations. You'd think the cop would let her off easy.
Have a great weekend, everyone. Drive safely.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Then, I heard my mom say something in the driver's seat in front of me. I didn't pay much attention to it. We were in the left lane of the highway, and my mom kept driving until she saw her chance to cross over to the right lane. It was when she pulled over to the breakdown lane that I took one of my ear buds out to ask what was going on.
My Mom was silent for a minute. Had the car broken down? Were we out of gas? Did we run over something?
Then, I saw someone walk by my window, and I realized he was a cop. That's when it hit me.
My mom had gotten pulled over.
He was fairly tall, dark skin, wearing a blue button-up tee shirt, along with black trousers, a police hat, and to top off the intimidating cop-look, a pair of large, dark sunglasses.
He cautiously approached the driver's window, most likely to make sure my mom wasn't some lunatic bearing a handgun, or some other type of weapon. Yeah, I thought, Like a married lady, with three children is prepared to attack a policed officer.
"The speed limit on this highway is 60 miles per hour," he told my mother in a deep voice.
"Okay," my mom replied, "What was I going?"
"Seventy-four," he said earnestly, all this time keeping a serious, no-bull face, behind those dark shades of his.
"Oh," was all mom could say.
"You were also driving in the left lane, which is strictly a passing lane."
"Okay," my mom agreed.
"Is speeding a habit for you?" he asked.
"No," my mom said, curiously.
"Is driving in the left lane a habit for you?"
"No," mom replied again.
"May I see your license and registration?" he requested.
Oh boy, I thought. Speeding ticket.
The police officer walked back to his cruiser to look up mom's record, and do the usual legal stuff cops do when they pull someone over. I've watched episodes of "Cops" with my dad before, and I pictured the officer talking to the camera guy, narrating the current situation at hand;
"We've got a typical soccer-mom here. She's showing signs of road-rage, which could explain the speeding. She's most likely in a hurry to get one of the three kids in the car to a practice, or something. I'll check her record, and then search the car for any cocaine, alcohol, or weapons, and probably give her a sobriety test as well. Just to be safe."
I then pictured him sending a message through his radio, requesting back-up in case "things got messy."
We waited for about five minutes, until he came back, holding some papers.
"Well," he said, "You haven't had a speeding citation since the nineties, which is good. But I did follow you for two miles in the left lane. Now, a ticket for driving in the left lane amounts to around one-hundred thirty dollars, but I've knocked it down to twenty dollars for you."
He continued to explain just how important it is to avoid staying in the left lane on the highway. As he did so, I tried to count the dozens of other cars on the highway that were driving in the left lane, most likely going seventy-plus mph.
After his speech was over, he directed mom to- and I quote- "Accelerate, get up to highway-speed, then verge over to the right lane."
Emphasis on "right".
I figured this guy took his job very seriously, and hadn't seen too much action in a while. I assumed he was clocking everyone's speed on the highway. Then, out of the hundreds of drivers going seventy mph. on the highway, he picked one car (in this case, a red Toyota Camry), and pulled it over, hoping to use up some of his tickets on some innocent citizens. Once he pulled mom over, he gave her the usual "Do-you-know-how-fast-you-were-driving?" lecture. Then, to add to the seriousness of the matter, he informs you that you have committed not just one misdemeanor, but two, and sucker-punches you with a twenty-dollar ticket for driving in the left lane.
Now, I'm not criticizing this guy for being a jerk, and ticketing my mom just because she was one of the many who were in the passing-only lane, but you gotta admit, it's kinda ridiculous. Her record is almost spotless (or so she tells me), with the exception of one or two minor speeding violations. You'd think the cop would let her off easy.
Have a great weekend, everyone. Drive safely.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Extreme Makeover: Blog Edition
By now you've probably noticed some changes to the way the blog looks. How do you like it? I did it all myself, using my nerdy ability to edit HTML and CSS coding on a blogger template, which can be more complicated than a normal layout.
Did you get all that?
I just felt the blog needed a bit more "pizazz." Notice how the blog posts and sidebar move up and down when you scroll, but the "awesome" background doesn't. Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself.
Anyway, not much else to say. Just wanted to let you know about the new look on the blog. Tell me what you think in the comments if you want!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Did you get all that?
I just felt the blog needed a bit more "pizazz." Notice how the blog posts and sidebar move up and down when you scroll, but the "awesome" background doesn't. Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself.
Anyway, not much else to say. Just wanted to let you know about the new look on the blog. Tell me what you think in the comments if you want!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Care and Feeding of Little Brothers
As most of you know, I have two little brothers. They're twins, age 10. They have two very different personalities, all bundled in two separate packages that look almost exactly the same.
And if you were wondering, yes, it is hell.
Let me introduce you to Jack and Michael; the world's best, and worst, little brothers.
We'll start with the worst of the two, Mike. Mike is, as Jack and me call him, the youngest sibling, because he was born two minutes after Jack. Everyone knows the youngest sibling ends up being the most immature, and this applies with Mike. I guess being the youngest by just two minutes can still make you the most annoying.
In reality, Michael is the same age as Jack, but we call him the youngest anyway.
Mike is that one child you had in your class in school that had a bad case of ADHD. He's hyper, he's loud, he's obnoxious, and he's always looking for trouble.
Mike loves to pick fights, which can get very annoying. He's always trying to get Jack to fight with him just for the heck of it. No, he's not angry, or upset with Jack. He's usually not even upset with anyone else. He just wants to fight. Even if Jack says he doesn't want to fight, Mike will provoke him by tackling him, pushing him, and putting him in various headlocks. Eventually, Jack has no choice but to fight back, if only to defend himself from serious bruising. This usually ends up with at least one of them crying, and both of them sent up to their rooms.
As you can see, Michael is a very violent child. But when he's not picking fights, he's trying to be as loud and annoying as possible. He'll make obnoxious noises, he'll make weird faces, he'll throw things, he'll run around- he'll do absolutely anything to make you snap. It's like a game to him; pick a target, and try to get on their nerves as much as possible. Let me say this; he's obviously gotten a lot of practice at this game, because he wins every time.
Now, it may seem like Michael is a terrible kid, but he does have his upsides. He likes to play sports with me and Jack. He loves to play catch with me out in the yard, and always plays games of basketball with me out in the street. The best part of all this is after running around outside for a while, Mike is much more calm, and can be a much more enjoyable brother. Him and I always joke around, and play video games with each other. Him and I don't always get along, but when we do, he's a pretty cool brother.
So, Mike is obviously the brawn, which makes Jack the brains. Jack is much more calm than his twin. He loves to read, write, and draw. Him and I get along very well; we always joke around, play games, and just have fun.
Jack's not quite as talented in the athletics department as Michael and me, but I give him lots of pointers on his jump-shot, and his pitching.
Jack and I have a lot in common. We both enjoy reading, we both are quite humorous, and we both love to eat. In fact, Jack has earned himself the title of "The Bottomless Pit," because he never seems to stop eating. If he goes out for dinner he'll order the biggest meal he can find, and then for dessert, his favorite, cheesecake.
Jack is probably the smartest of all of the brothers. He gets straight-A's every year, and always does his homework. If Harvard has a degree in cooking, Jack's gonna go far in life.
As you can see, I have two brothers who have very different personalities. One's aggressive and hyper, while the other is calm, and funny. They can make my life miserable sometimes, but I have to admit, I don't know what I'd do without them.
(But if anyone's willing to trade for a pair of little sisters, let me know ASAP)
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
And if you were wondering, yes, it is hell.
Let me introduce you to Jack and Michael; the world's best, and worst, little brothers.
We'll start with the worst of the two, Mike. Mike is, as Jack and me call him, the youngest sibling, because he was born two minutes after Jack. Everyone knows the youngest sibling ends up being the most immature, and this applies with Mike. I guess being the youngest by just two minutes can still make you the most annoying.
In reality, Michael is the same age as Jack, but we call him the youngest anyway.
Mike is that one child you had in your class in school that had a bad case of ADHD. He's hyper, he's loud, he's obnoxious, and he's always looking for trouble.
Mike loves to pick fights, which can get very annoying. He's always trying to get Jack to fight with him just for the heck of it. No, he's not angry, or upset with Jack. He's usually not even upset with anyone else. He just wants to fight. Even if Jack says he doesn't want to fight, Mike will provoke him by tackling him, pushing him, and putting him in various headlocks. Eventually, Jack has no choice but to fight back, if only to defend himself from serious bruising. This usually ends up with at least one of them crying, and both of them sent up to their rooms.
As you can see, Michael is a very violent child. But when he's not picking fights, he's trying to be as loud and annoying as possible. He'll make obnoxious noises, he'll make weird faces, he'll throw things, he'll run around- he'll do absolutely anything to make you snap. It's like a game to him; pick a target, and try to get on their nerves as much as possible. Let me say this; he's obviously gotten a lot of practice at this game, because he wins every time.
Now, it may seem like Michael is a terrible kid, but he does have his upsides. He likes to play sports with me and Jack. He loves to play catch with me out in the yard, and always plays games of basketball with me out in the street. The best part of all this is after running around outside for a while, Mike is much more calm, and can be a much more enjoyable brother. Him and I always joke around, and play video games with each other. Him and I don't always get along, but when we do, he's a pretty cool brother.
So, Mike is obviously the brawn, which makes Jack the brains. Jack is much more calm than his twin. He loves to read, write, and draw. Him and I get along very well; we always joke around, play games, and just have fun.
Jack's not quite as talented in the athletics department as Michael and me, but I give him lots of pointers on his jump-shot, and his pitching.
Jack and I have a lot in common. We both enjoy reading, we both are quite humorous, and we both love to eat. In fact, Jack has earned himself the title of "The Bottomless Pit," because he never seems to stop eating. If he goes out for dinner he'll order the biggest meal he can find, and then for dessert, his favorite, cheesecake.
Jack is probably the smartest of all of the brothers. He gets straight-A's every year, and always does his homework. If Harvard has a degree in cooking, Jack's gonna go far in life.
As you can see, I have two brothers who have very different personalities. One's aggressive and hyper, while the other is calm, and funny. They can make my life miserable sometimes, but I have to admit, I don't know what I'd do without them.
(But if anyone's willing to trade for a pair of little sisters, let me know ASAP)
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Update
Just wanted to let you all know I've changed the URL address for this blog to shorten it. The new address for this blog is http://yoursinawesomeness.blogspot.com
Please update your favorites lists accordingly (because I just know all of you guys have this blog on your favorites list on your browsers! It's just too awesome to not have it there!)
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Please update your favorites lists accordingly (because I just know all of you guys have this blog on your favorites list on your browsers! It's just too awesome to not have it there!)
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
July Appreciation
As a teenager, I spend a good chunk of my time on the internet, whether it be on Facebook, another blog, or one of the many video game-related sites I visit. (I am such a geek) Sometimes I'll find some very unusual things while clicking around, and one of those things was a search related to "National Month of...". I was just curious to see what our current month celebrates, and you may be surprised by the list I found.
July is the national month of...
Then, there are the unusual holidays celebrated during the individual weeks, and days in the month of July.
I guess there's more to celebrate during July than just Independence Day. Mark your calendars, and have a happy National Strawberry Sundae Day!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
***Information on these holidays was found here.
July is the national month of...
- Anti-boredom
- Hot dogs
- Ice cream
- Cell phone courtesy
- Unlucky month for weddings
- Blueberries
Then, there are the unusual holidays celebrated during the individual weeks, and days in the month of July.
- Second week of July- Nude Recreation Week
- July 2- I Forgot Day
- July 3- Compliment Your Mirror Day
- July 10- Teddy Bear Picnic Day
- July 13- Barber Shop Music Appreciation Day
- July 15- Tapioca Pudding Day
- July 15- Cow Appreciation Day
- July 17- Yellow Pig Day
- July 27- Take Your Pants For a Walk Day
I guess there's more to celebrate during July than just Independence Day. Mark your calendars, and have a happy National Strawberry Sundae Day!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
***Information on these holidays was found here.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Men & Sports- a Theorized Story of How Sports Came to Be
Yesterday while attending my little brothers' basketball game, I began to think about what makes sports so fun. What keeps us practicing to get better at these sports? What keeps half of the country in front of their television sets for two hours straight watching baseball.
I also noticed that guys tend to get worked up a little more over sports than girls. But, then again, I have seen Sarena Williams (or was it Venus?) flip out over a game of tennis before, so I could be wrong. Either way, it's just an opinion. You tend to understand where I'm coming from when you've lived with a guy for fourteen years who talks to the players on TV about their performance even though they can't hear him. (I must admit, this habit of my father's has begun to rub off on me) It doesn't help that my mom barely knows the first thing about sports either. No matter how many times I have to correct her, she'll always say "The score was 5-8," instead of "The score was 8-5."
After thinking about all this, I theorized this story about men and sports.
***
Since the beginning of time, male types of all species of creatures on Earth- whether it be animals, or humans- have been attempting to become the more dominant man of their kind. Birds have different songs they chirp, and different colored feathers; lions, tigers, and other "big cats" try to become the strongest hunter in the pack. The list goes on. But, when you think about it, the main reason all male creatures try to become more dominant than the rest is to attract the females. Male birds try to make themselves more attractive with colorful feathers, and beautiful songs to attract the females. "Big cats", specifically lions, try to become king of the jungle to make themselves look more dominant than the rest. (My facts may be a bit off, but feel free to search this topic online if you please)
But what about humans. Obviously, humans have evolved much more than animals have. Compared to our chimp ancestors, our brains have grown and become smarter, our posture has improved greatly, our muscles have developed much more, and we've developed our own languages unique to each of our races. With all that said, it's obvious that humans are much more complex than animals.
This means that females are looking for more than just pretty colors, cheery songs, and strong hunters. Not only do women want us to prove to them that we are more dominant than the rest, but we want to prove this to ourselves as well. So, back when we were cavemen, us men invented "contests" if you will, that would prove who was better than the other. Some contests were to see who could make a fire the quickest. But most were to prove who carried the bigger stick, or who hauled the biggest rocks. These contests carried through generations, and around the late 1800's were named "sports."
You can probably see how the "bigger-rocks" contest carried on to today. Almost every sport you see on TV today involves a ball of some sort. Basketball, football, golf, tennis, lacrosse- you name it. These sports are contests to see which person handles the ball the best. The "bigger-stick" version eventually evolved into what we call "baseball."
When sports were first being invented, males decided to form "packs" that would compete together against other "packs". The winners of each sport would become the more dominant "pack". Again, evolution took place, and the word "pack" tuned into "team".
Long story short, sports were invented for two main reasons;
- Impress the ladies
- Decide who is more dominant
That's when things like running, swimming, weight-lifting, and boxing became sports. And then, someone else (most likely a woman) wised up even more, and thought, "Hey, women can be dominant too!" So woman's versions of all these sports were invented. (I have also theorized that after men were criticized for not thinking girls could be dominant too, the "wife" was invented, to keep men in there place, and not get carried away trying to outdo one another.)
But what about those who aren't as athletic as others? Well, thanks to the "team" concept I covered earlier, fans of any sport can cheer on their favorite teams, and hope they win. They could even gamble on who will win a competition. This led to bragging rights for the fans of the winning team, thus making them somewhat more dominant than the opposing team's fans.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find some big rocks.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Summer '10
At last, the best time of the year has come; Summer! I have officially left the school I've spent my life in since kindergarten, and I'm now ready to finally move on to the next chapter in my life:
High school.
In my years at Forestdale School, I've made my first friends, learned my first math problem, and how to read, write, spell my own name, draw, etc. I've had great times, and not-so-great times. I never thought I'd say this, but I'll miss the good ol` days at Forestdale. Some of my friends will be venturing off to other schools, but most will be coming with me to Sandwich High. Go class of 2014!!!
I had a Foresdale eighth grade graduation ceremony last week, and the whole eighth grade, along with family, and friends, saw pictures of all of us from back in the good-old-days, including some of me in my early years at Forestdale. It's amazing how much we've all changed!
I'll never forget my days as a "Fodalien", but as they say, the show must go on. High school is going to be a big leap for me, but the folks at Sandwich High have set up a great program to help us freshmen get prepared for it. Near the end of the summer, all three elementary schools in Sandwich will go to a nearby camp, called Camp Burgess, and we'll spend a day there, meeting each other, playing games, etc. Hopefully I'll be able to make some friends before high school, that way I won't feel too alone when the first day comes. Not that I was particularly nervous anyway, I'm actually pretty pumped to be getting to high school. It's going to be like a new start for me, a chance to start over.
So, I realize it's been a while since I wrote here, and I've got so much I could tell you about. Like the day I spent with my "long-lost" uncle, Ted, from Colorado. We decided we'd spend the day, just my brothers, dad, Ted, his girlfriend, Kelly, and me, playing a game of mini golf. When we got to the course, it was still closed, seeing as it was only around eleven A.M., so we went down the street to get some ice cream. We quickly realized that Jack likes to wear his ice cream, and eat it off his face, rather than eat it straight from the cone. He had chocolate all over his face, and much to my disappointment, Jack wouldn't let dad get a picture of him, otherwise I'd put it up here.
Another somewhat exciting thing that happened to me was that my baseball team made it to the finals this season, after struggling to get a win for most of the regular season. We managed to get a few wins near the end of the season, and by the time playoffs came, it seemed like we were unstoppable. We were winning every playoff game, and even beat the first-place team in the league! We were feeling on top of the world!
Then we fell to the bottom, quite abruptly. It came down to the final championship game, and we ended up losing 14-9. We made a great comeback, shortening the opposing team's lead to two points, but couldn't come back. But, there was an upside to this loss; we ended up being the second-best team in the whole league. We even got runner-up trophies, but I think it was just a way of the Babe Ruth league's attempt to stick to their "everyone's a winner" motto, because the winner trophies were huge compared to our dinky little ones. I'm pretty sure those winner trophies had real gold engraved in there, too, while our runner-up ones had plastic that was spray-painted gold. Either way, we truly were the underdogs this year!
One more thing I'd like to add that one of you in particular might get a kick out of; I'm sure most of you who read this (seeing as this blog hasn't yet reached "famous" status, and the majority of my visitors are relatives, and friends) know about my cousin, Derek's new book, Here Comes Your Man (now available on Amazon.com, and Barnes & Noble.com). After reading a recent blog post on Derek's blog, I bought the iBooks app on my iPod Touch, and took the liberty of adding his book to my iBooks library.
That's a picture of what my iBooks library looks like now. Although it's quite a small collection so far, I'd say Derek's book fits in pretty well, right in between my digital copies of I Love You, Beth Cooper, and Winnie the Pooh. (which, I'll add, I did NOT purchase willingly. Every download of the iBooks app comes with a complimentary copy of the book, but you'd still respect me as a young man even if I had purchased the book myself, right?) I'm on chapter two of his book so far, and I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it. You're welcome, Derek!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
High school.
In my years at Forestdale School, I've made my first friends, learned my first math problem, and how to read, write, spell my own name, draw, etc. I've had great times, and not-so-great times. I never thought I'd say this, but I'll miss the good ol` days at Forestdale. Some of my friends will be venturing off to other schools, but most will be coming with me to Sandwich High. Go class of 2014!!!
I had a Foresdale eighth grade graduation ceremony last week, and the whole eighth grade, along with family, and friends, saw pictures of all of us from back in the good-old-days, including some of me in my early years at Forestdale. It's amazing how much we've all changed!
I'll never forget my days as a "Fodalien", but as they say, the show must go on. High school is going to be a big leap for me, but the folks at Sandwich High have set up a great program to help us freshmen get prepared for it. Near the end of the summer, all three elementary schools in Sandwich will go to a nearby camp, called Camp Burgess, and we'll spend a day there, meeting each other, playing games, etc. Hopefully I'll be able to make some friends before high school, that way I won't feel too alone when the first day comes. Not that I was particularly nervous anyway, I'm actually pretty pumped to be getting to high school. It's going to be like a new start for me, a chance to start over.
So, I realize it's been a while since I wrote here, and I've got so much I could tell you about. Like the day I spent with my "long-lost" uncle, Ted, from Colorado. We decided we'd spend the day, just my brothers, dad, Ted, his girlfriend, Kelly, and me, playing a game of mini golf. When we got to the course, it was still closed, seeing as it was only around eleven A.M., so we went down the street to get some ice cream. We quickly realized that Jack likes to wear his ice cream, and eat it off his face, rather than eat it straight from the cone. He had chocolate all over his face, and much to my disappointment, Jack wouldn't let dad get a picture of him, otherwise I'd put it up here.
Another somewhat exciting thing that happened to me was that my baseball team made it to the finals this season, after struggling to get a win for most of the regular season. We managed to get a few wins near the end of the season, and by the time playoffs came, it seemed like we were unstoppable. We were winning every playoff game, and even beat the first-place team in the league! We were feeling on top of the world!
Then we fell to the bottom, quite abruptly. It came down to the final championship game, and we ended up losing 14-9. We made a great comeback, shortening the opposing team's lead to two points, but couldn't come back. But, there was an upside to this loss; we ended up being the second-best team in the whole league. We even got runner-up trophies, but I think it was just a way of the Babe Ruth league's attempt to stick to their "everyone's a winner" motto, because the winner trophies were huge compared to our dinky little ones. I'm pretty sure those winner trophies had real gold engraved in there, too, while our runner-up ones had plastic that was spray-painted gold. Either way, we truly were the underdogs this year!
One more thing I'd like to add that one of you in particular might get a kick out of; I'm sure most of you who read this (seeing as this blog hasn't yet reached "famous" status, and the majority of my visitors are relatives, and friends) know about my cousin, Derek's new book, Here Comes Your Man (now available on Amazon.com, and Barnes & Noble.com). After reading a recent blog post on Derek's blog, I bought the iBooks app on my iPod Touch, and took the liberty of adding his book to my iBooks library.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day
Sorry for the long break of no posts. I figured if there were ever a day to lessen the sad feeling my last blog post caused, today would be it.
First of all, Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. And a big thank you to my mom for putting up with me for a full 14 years without ripping your hair out. I realize I'm a pain in your ass, but hey, that's what teenagers are here for! Life ain't perfect. Love ya!
This weekend was quite an exciting one. Pa took me and my brothers out on a shopping-spree out of the goodness of his heart. He bought us brand-new baseball bats, got Jack and Mike sports bags to hold all their sporting supplies. He got me new guitar picks, and a guitar tuner (I'll explain this in a moment), and the new AC/DC album. He later told us we wouldn't be receiving any birthday presents from him when that time came around.
But before all of this, we had a quick lunch break at good-old McDonald's. After ordering our burgers, we found a table, and unpacked everything. Not even five minutes later, the cashier walked over and said she had given us an extra order that wasn't ours. So she checked the receipt, and took back what wasn't ours (we had no knowledge of this, just to let you know. Who do you think we are, the Hamburgerler's assistants?)
Then, Mike looked for his order out of all the bags we had, and couldn't find his double-cheese burger, with no mustard, or ketchup. All he could find was regular double-cheese burgers. So, Pa gave him some money to buy another one. Well, Mike came back with his second burger, and that one had mustard and ketchup too, even thought the receipt on it said "No mustard, no ketchup". If I had a dollar for every time I've gone to McDonald's, and had my order screwed up, I'd be filthy-stinking rich. (well, almost filthy-stinking rich.)
Well, Mike ended up wiping the unwanted condiments off his burger with a napkin, and we finally finished our meals.
Now, about that guitar stuff I got. I recently decided I wanted to learn how to play guitar, and since my dad has an old acoustic, I pulled that out of the basement a couple days ago, and started fooling around with it. Within a day or two, I had taught my self how to play "Happy Birthday to You," and some simple little tunes. My mom said she'd sign me up for lessons after my baseball season ended this summer, so by the time I reach High School, I'll be able to actually play some chords. I found a neat little web site that gives me some beginner lessons, like basic chords, and finger positioning on the frets, so I'll be prepared when my real lessons start.
I know, my life is pretty exciting to read about. "Ooh, lucky you, Ryan. Tell me more about your exciting experiences at fast-food joints, and your obsession with AC/DC."
Anyway, that's what I've been up to lately. I'll be sure to post again next weekend.
Have a good week!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
First of all, Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. And a big thank you to my mom for putting up with me for a full 14 years without ripping your hair out. I realize I'm a pain in your ass, but hey, that's what teenagers are here for! Life ain't perfect. Love ya!
This weekend was quite an exciting one. Pa took me and my brothers out on a shopping-spree out of the goodness of his heart. He bought us brand-new baseball bats, got Jack and Mike sports bags to hold all their sporting supplies. He got me new guitar picks, and a guitar tuner (I'll explain this in a moment), and the new AC/DC album. He later told us we wouldn't be receiving any birthday presents from him when that time came around.
But before all of this, we had a quick lunch break at good-old McDonald's. After ordering our burgers, we found a table, and unpacked everything. Not even five minutes later, the cashier walked over and said she had given us an extra order that wasn't ours. So she checked the receipt, and took back what wasn't ours (we had no knowledge of this, just to let you know. Who do you think we are, the Hamburgerler's assistants?)
Then, Mike looked for his order out of all the bags we had, and couldn't find his double-cheese burger, with no mustard, or ketchup. All he could find was regular double-cheese burgers. So, Pa gave him some money to buy another one. Well, Mike came back with his second burger, and that one had mustard and ketchup too, even thought the receipt on it said "No mustard, no ketchup". If I had a dollar for every time I've gone to McDonald's, and had my order screwed up, I'd be filthy-stinking rich. (well, almost filthy-stinking rich.)
Well, Mike ended up wiping the unwanted condiments off his burger with a napkin, and we finally finished our meals.
Now, about that guitar stuff I got. I recently decided I wanted to learn how to play guitar, and since my dad has an old acoustic, I pulled that out of the basement a couple days ago, and started fooling around with it. Within a day or two, I had taught my self how to play "Happy Birthday to You," and some simple little tunes. My mom said she'd sign me up for lessons after my baseball season ended this summer, so by the time I reach High School, I'll be able to actually play some chords. I found a neat little web site that gives me some beginner lessons, like basic chords, and finger positioning on the frets, so I'll be prepared when my real lessons start.
I know, my life is pretty exciting to read about. "Ooh, lucky you, Ryan. Tell me more about your exciting experiences at fast-food joints, and your obsession with AC/DC."
Anyway, that's what I've been up to lately. I'll be sure to post again next weekend.
Have a good week!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Dear Gramma...
By this point, you won't be able to read this in person. I wish I had written this earlier so you could've seen it. But, maybe once you've unpacked all your belongings in your new apartment up in heaven, your spirit will be able to take one last trip down here to read this good-bye letter.
I really don't know where to start with this. There's so much I want to say, but nowhere to begin. My mom has told me so many stories about the day I was born, and how happy you and Pa were to finally have your first grandchild. And then you were blessed with seven more! You got to watch us grow up, teach us new things, tell us stories, play with us... so many good memories.
One thing I'll always remember is all the sleep-overs we had at your house. We would always go out for dinner, watch a movie, play games, and we always had so much fun! Then, when we woke up, you'd make us breakfast; I always asked for your home-made pancakes, or waffles. (That's another thing I'll never forget; your cooking!)
Spending holidays with you was always so much fun, especially Christmas! After Mike, jack, and I had opened all our presents from Santa, we could hardly wait to get in the car, and head up to your house. We had a little breakfast there, talked for a bit, and then (drum-roll please) PRESENT TIME! The presents you got us were always the best ones. (besides the ones from Santa, of course) You were such a generous person. I used to always think to myself "Man, if she has enough money to get me this, how come she doesn't just buy herself a mansion?"
You somehow always managed to stay in a great mood. Every time we came up to visit, you'd always have a big smile on your face. It's almost as if it was hard-wired into your brain that you couldn't ever be in a bad mood! You made jokes (that reminds me; I'll miss your home-made, moldy lemonade too!), and laughed at mine. You spoiled me and my cousins like crazy!!! You just always knew how to make us smile.
But, as they say, all good things come to an end. I can't begin to describe how much I'll miss you, and love you, and I know you love me too. I could see it on your face when I came to visit you for the last time a couple days ago. I walked in, you were sleeping, and Aunt Joan gently woke you up, and said, "Ryan, Jack, and Michael are here to see you." You're face seemed to brighten up so much, and so quickly! I held your hand for a while, feeling how warm it was. That assured me that you were still here with us... at least for the moment.
When Dad gave me the news I was speechless. I didn't cry, but only because I had prepared myself for this. I would have cried if I could, but I just didn't have the urge. I just knew you were finally in a better place, not struggling, or suffering. It'll take a while for all of us to adjust to this huge change, but we'll eventually adapt to it, and never forget how it used to be. You were the only grandmother I ever had, and I'm glad you were willing to take the job. I couldn't ask for a better Gramma.
Someday, we'll all tell Ava and Mia about you, and how much you loved them, and all the things you did for them. Obviously, they're too young right now to comprehend what's going on, but I just know that they know that you love them so much, just like you loved all of your other grandchildren.
You were so strong, fighting off this cancer. Five whole years you were able to last! Your nurses said they've never seen anyone live that long with the disease you had. But, it finally got the best of you, and no one can blame you. You put up quite a fight, and you just got a little too tired out. But, hey, we've all gotta go sometime, right?
They say that one day your life will flash before your eyes, and that you should make it worth watching. I'm willing to bet that whatever flashed before your eyes could have made an academy-award winning movie. I'm glad that I got to be part of it.
I love you, Gramma. We all do, and we always will. Someday, we'll all be together again. Save some room in your heaven-apartment for us, okay? We'll all think of you every day, and know that you're looking down on us, smiling, thinking "Wow, look what I've started!"
One, big, happy family.
And do you know why I know all this?
Because I love you.
Your first, oldest, loving grandson,
~Ryan.
I really don't know where to start with this. There's so much I want to say, but nowhere to begin. My mom has told me so many stories about the day I was born, and how happy you and Pa were to finally have your first grandchild. And then you were blessed with seven more! You got to watch us grow up, teach us new things, tell us stories, play with us... so many good memories.
One thing I'll always remember is all the sleep-overs we had at your house. We would always go out for dinner, watch a movie, play games, and we always had so much fun! Then, when we woke up, you'd make us breakfast; I always asked for your home-made pancakes, or waffles. (That's another thing I'll never forget; your cooking!)
Spending holidays with you was always so much fun, especially Christmas! After Mike, jack, and I had opened all our presents from Santa, we could hardly wait to get in the car, and head up to your house. We had a little breakfast there, talked for a bit, and then (drum-roll please) PRESENT TIME! The presents you got us were always the best ones. (besides the ones from Santa, of course) You were such a generous person. I used to always think to myself "Man, if she has enough money to get me this, how come she doesn't just buy herself a mansion?"
You somehow always managed to stay in a great mood. Every time we came up to visit, you'd always have a big smile on your face. It's almost as if it was hard-wired into your brain that you couldn't ever be in a bad mood! You made jokes (that reminds me; I'll miss your home-made, moldy lemonade too!), and laughed at mine. You spoiled me and my cousins like crazy!!! You just always knew how to make us smile.
But, as they say, all good things come to an end. I can't begin to describe how much I'll miss you, and love you, and I know you love me too. I could see it on your face when I came to visit you for the last time a couple days ago. I walked in, you were sleeping, and Aunt Joan gently woke you up, and said, "Ryan, Jack, and Michael are here to see you." You're face seemed to brighten up so much, and so quickly! I held your hand for a while, feeling how warm it was. That assured me that you were still here with us... at least for the moment.
When Dad gave me the news I was speechless. I didn't cry, but only because I had prepared myself for this. I would have cried if I could, but I just didn't have the urge. I just knew you were finally in a better place, not struggling, or suffering. It'll take a while for all of us to adjust to this huge change, but we'll eventually adapt to it, and never forget how it used to be. You were the only grandmother I ever had, and I'm glad you were willing to take the job. I couldn't ask for a better Gramma.
Someday, we'll all tell Ava and Mia about you, and how much you loved them, and all the things you did for them. Obviously, they're too young right now to comprehend what's going on, but I just know that they know that you love them so much, just like you loved all of your other grandchildren.
You were so strong, fighting off this cancer. Five whole years you were able to last! Your nurses said they've never seen anyone live that long with the disease you had. But, it finally got the best of you, and no one can blame you. You put up quite a fight, and you just got a little too tired out. But, hey, we've all gotta go sometime, right?
They say that one day your life will flash before your eyes, and that you should make it worth watching. I'm willing to bet that whatever flashed before your eyes could have made an academy-award winning movie. I'm glad that I got to be part of it.
I love you, Gramma. We all do, and we always will. Someday, we'll all be together again. Save some room in your heaven-apartment for us, okay? We'll all think of you every day, and know that you're looking down on us, smiling, thinking "Wow, look what I've started!"
One, big, happy family.
And do you know why I know all this?
Because I love you.
Your first, oldest, loving grandson,
~Ryan.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Sweet Georgia Brown
Last Sunday the family and I went to see the Harlem Globetrotters at the TD Garden.
Calling it exciting would be an understatement.
The trip to Boston started off on a high note; we saw a dead black cat on the side of the highway, which either meant that the day wasn't going to have any bad luck, or there are some pretty reckless drivers out there. (I'm guessing it was the first one; that day was pretty awesome, as you'll soon see) Then, I noticed a "Student-Driver" car ahead of us, and as we drove by it, I saw an old man (no younger than sixty-five) driving it. I guess he just couldn't stand sitting at home any longer, watching Bonanza re-runs. Either that, or he was embarrassed to realize his wife knew that he didn't have a driver's license.
So, after about an hour of listening to Green Day on my iPod in the car, the TD Garden came into view. Finally, I could escape the clutches of that red Toyota Camry, that had me stuck next to my little brats- er, brothers, for all that time.
Inside the Garden was pretty cool; big pictures of Celtics, and Bruins pictures all around us. (including one of John Cena, from when the WWE came to preform here) We traveled up two sets of escalators, walked past some souvenir stands (where my brothers and I each bought our own Harlem Globetrotters basketballs), and then came to the entrance to the court.
Looking down on it, it seemed just like it did on TV; big, shiny, the big, green Celtics logo painted in the middle. But, as we moved farther down towards our seats, the court began to seem smaller than I'd recalled from the games I'd watched back at home. I guess television makes things seem bigger than they appear. (much like the side-mirrors on cars... except those show things "closer than they appear". You know what I meant)
As for our seats: only two rows away from the court! I could have literally taken one step from where my seat was, and would've been standing on the court. Everything was in better-than-perfect view! (a HUGE thank-you to Gramma and Pa for those tickets. Love you, guys!)
Almost as soon as we took our seats, a guy in a Globetrotters tee-shirt came over, and asked my little brothers if they'd like to be part of a Slam-Dunk Contest, for the pre-game show. I couldn't take part because of my immense, 14-year-old-boy height, and the fact that they would be using a kiddie-hoop. The winners of the contest would receive an official Harlem Globetrotters wristband (it turned out all of the contestants got one, because at the Globetrotters, "everyone's a winner"), but the guy tossed me one anyway. (another big thank-you to that random Globetrotters dude, wherever he is!)
My brothers ended up getting to go out on the court for that, but I could care less; I was close enough to the court to smell it. (figuratively, of course. The last thing I need is to catch a whiff of all the basketball-player sweat on that floor. Although, maybe if I had smelled it, I would've been blessed with the almighty slam-dunk powers that Kevin Garnett has) (below; You can just see the excitement on jack's face)
So, then the game began. The Globetrotters took the stage, showing off their ball-handling skills, and warming up for the game with some trick-shots, and alley-oops, and dunks, and spins, and passes- I'd explain it all in detail, but it'd end up looking like a jumble here on this blog, because it all happened so quickly, so effortlessly, describing it would be almost impossible.
They were just as hilarious as they were good at basketball. One of the players on the opposing team was making a jump-shot, and as he jumped up, one of the 'Trotters tore the clothes right off the guy- pants, jersey, and all (except for the underwear), and the guy ran off court in his boxers, humiliated.
It was hilarious.
After all the puns were said, and the dunks were made, the game came to an end, and we headed out to the parking garage, to our car. It was the best show I've ever seen in my life, and something I'll never forget.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Gone Fishing
Yes, that's my excuse, what of it?
Sorry I haven't written in so long. I've been piled up to my eyeballs with school work, homework, and other work-related activities. (such as going to GameStop...)
I finally found a weekend that's homework-free, so I took this opportunity to blog to you guys.... but with nothing to write about. So, instead, I thought I'd tell you a story.
How I thought up this story is a bit humorous, I think. Today, in science class, we were doing a "mini-quiz" thing, where we had to write everything we knew about substances, and mixtures, and colloids, and all that jazz. Unsurprisingly, I had very little written on my paper, unlike Amanda, the girl who sits next to me in that class, who was writing quite diligently, and even adding some illustrations to her work.
Mr. Trimble, the teacher, walked over, saw my paper, and looked puzzled. He knows about my talent in writing (I once made him an awesome extra-credit assignment on how people catch colds), and was probably expecting something similar to that of an original script by Shakespeare.
"What is this, 'Mr. Writer'?" he asked me, sarcastically.
"I don't know what to write!" I replied.
"Write me a story!" he exclaimed.
I knew writing about science wasn't my best subject, so I finally decided to do what I was told, and write him a story.
Here's the final product:
Once upon a time, there was an angry jellyfish named Bob. Bob was angry every day, for no reason whatsoever. But, on this particular day, Bob had a reason to be angry.
Mr. Guppyfish swam up to Bob, and asked, "Bob, why are you so angry today?"
"Well," Bob said, "my teacher, Mr. Starfish, told me I had to write a story about sciencey-stuff, but I don't know a lot of sciencey-stuff, so now I'm angry!"
"Oh," replied Mr. Guppyfish. "That's too bad. Is there any way I could cheer you up?"
"Yeah," said Bob, "Write the story for me."
"Ok," said Mr. Guppy.
And they lived happily ever after.
I have to say, I got a bit teary-eyed reading this. Quite a work of art, is it not?
Have a stupendous weekend!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sorry I haven't written in so long. I've been piled up to my eyeballs with school work, homework, and other work-related activities. (such as going to GameStop...)
I finally found a weekend that's homework-free, so I took this opportunity to blog to you guys.... but with nothing to write about. So, instead, I thought I'd tell you a story.
How I thought up this story is a bit humorous, I think. Today, in science class, we were doing a "mini-quiz" thing, where we had to write everything we knew about substances, and mixtures, and colloids, and all that jazz. Unsurprisingly, I had very little written on my paper, unlike Amanda, the girl who sits next to me in that class, who was writing quite diligently, and even adding some illustrations to her work.
Mr. Trimble, the teacher, walked over, saw my paper, and looked puzzled. He knows about my talent in writing (I once made him an awesome extra-credit assignment on how people catch colds), and was probably expecting something similar to that of an original script by Shakespeare.
"What is this, 'Mr. Writer'?" he asked me, sarcastically.
"I don't know what to write!" I replied.
"Write me a story!" he exclaimed.
I knew writing about science wasn't my best subject, so I finally decided to do what I was told, and write him a story.
Here's the final product:
Once upon a time, there was an angry jellyfish named Bob. Bob was angry every day, for no reason whatsoever. But, on this particular day, Bob had a reason to be angry.
Mr. Guppyfish swam up to Bob, and asked, "Bob, why are you so angry today?"
"Well," Bob said, "my teacher, Mr. Starfish, told me I had to write a story about sciencey-stuff, but I don't know a lot of sciencey-stuff, so now I'm angry!"
"Oh," replied Mr. Guppyfish. "That's too bad. Is there any way I could cheer you up?"
"Yeah," said Bob, "Write the story for me."
"Ok," said Mr. Guppy.
And they lived happily ever after.
I have to say, I got a bit teary-eyed reading this. Quite a work of art, is it not?
Have a stupendous weekend!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Hardest Part of a Zombie Apocalypse Will be Pretending I'm Not Excited
I'm assuming you have a Facebook account, no? Most of us do. I've had mine for about half a year, and I already have more friends than my parents (not combined), who have had Facebook longer than I have! Anyway, you Facebook users have probably heard of "Groups," right? Virtual fan clubs about random things, like, "Joey Chestnut is the greatest athlete of my generation," "Legalize Man-Tree Marriage," and, "The good people of the U.S. against Angelica Pickles."
Of course, that's only a small portion of the hundreds of thousands of groups that hardly make sense at all. I thought it'd be kind of fun to share some of these humorous group titles with you. Feel free to search these groups on Facebook, and even join them if you deem necessary!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Of course, that's only a small portion of the hundreds of thousands of groups that hardly make sense at all. I thought it'd be kind of fun to share some of these humorous group titles with you. Feel free to search these groups on Facebook, and even join them if you deem necessary!
- Who is hotter? Miley Cyrus or Larry King?
- If you don't speed up, I'm going to slash your tires and kill your family.
- Official Petition to Facebook for an "Enemies List
- Cry more about Facebook being opened up, please. Your anguish sustains me.
- Appreciation Center for Cats that look like Hitler
- 2/3 of the world is covered by water, the other 1/3 is covered by Asante Samuel
- If 1,000,000 people join this group, nothing will happen
- I will go out of my way to step on a leaf that looks particularly crunchy
- No, I don't care if I die at 12AM, I refuse to pass on your chain letter
- I believe the word "studying" was derived from the words "students dying"
- After Monday & Tuesday even the calendar says W T F
- Yeah. Ok, Yes. Yeah. Yeah. Ok, Yes. Ok. I know. Ok. Yes. BYE MOM.
- Because I read Twilight I have unrealistic expectations in Men
- I was gonna post a status, then I remembered I have family on Facebook
- Another Farmville invite and I will kill your animals and burn your crops
- 1 friend request. 0 mutual friends. Yeah right.
- I HAVE ALREADY PLACED MY ITEMS IN THE BAGGING AREA!
- "You're here to learn." "No, I'm here because it's the law."
- Well that was awkward.
- That Waldo is a tricky son of a *****
- I don't believe in Nevada
- When I was your age, we solved Blue's Clues with Steve, not Joe.
- I was blown away when I realized OK is a sideways person.
- The smallest group on Facebook. Nobody join!!!!!
- FOR NARNIA!!!
- "That girl has such a pretty voice." "Mom, that's Justin Bieber."
- "Let's eat Grandma," or, "Let's eat, Grandma." PUNCTUATION SAVES LIVES
- Dora, you're Multilingual at age 4, you should be able to find the banana tree
- When I was your age, shoes didn't have wheels
- If 50,000 people join this group, LeBron will make his free throws
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Birthday Presents
Yesterday, my dad and I went shopping for a late birthday present for my mom, up at the mall. The reason we were getting her "late" birthday presents is because we hadn't been able to buy for her on her real birthday (February 12), due to the fact that we had to spend Thursday night at my grandparents' house, because we had no heat, or hot water at our house. (This was due to a snow storm we had) Plus, with school, and all, we really wouldn't have found the time to go shopping anyway.
I'm getting a little off track here. As I was saying, we were at the mall. Mom had really only listed two things she wanted for her birthday. Now, I'm not going to list what we ended up getting her, for obvious reasons, but I will list something we almost got her.
It was when we were in Borders, looking to see if there were any books we could get her. We were also looking for other things we could get her, since getting her just the two things she listed would have made for one crappy birthday (we'd probably be singing that at her party as well; "Crappy Birthday to You!....").
We had some things to get her, (along with an AC/DC album I bought for myself, which mom is still complaining about, since I was buying for myself, instead of for her. Quit nagging, Mom, we got you something too!) and after checking out, I noticed another book on a nearby shelf.
"Hey, Dad," I called, "Maybe we should get her this!"
It was a book on "How to Belly Dance."
Dad got a grin out of this. He knew I was only joking, but then he said, "Should we?"
"No way!" I replied. I knew watching Mom try to belly-dance would be just as catastrophic as another Hurricane Katrina. Dad thought it'd be a good gag-gift for her, but something tells me he was hoping Mom would end up using the book. I knew she wouldn't, though, so it would end up being a waste of money.
So, Mom, I hope I didn't ruin your birthday by not buying you a belly-dancing book. Why don't you just stick to Wii Fit?
Speaking of holidays, I wanted to wish all of you a Happy Valentines Day! Give that special someone a hug for me!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
I'm getting a little off track here. As I was saying, we were at the mall. Mom had really only listed two things she wanted for her birthday. Now, I'm not going to list what we ended up getting her, for obvious reasons, but I will list something we almost got her.
It was when we were in Borders, looking to see if there were any books we could get her. We were also looking for other things we could get her, since getting her just the two things she listed would have made for one crappy birthday (we'd probably be singing that at her party as well; "Crappy Birthday to You!....").
We had some things to get her, (along with an AC/DC album I bought for myself, which mom is still complaining about, since I was buying for myself, instead of for her. Quit nagging, Mom, we got you something too!) and after checking out, I noticed another book on a nearby shelf.
"Hey, Dad," I called, "Maybe we should get her this!"
It was a book on "How to Belly Dance."
Dad got a grin out of this. He knew I was only joking, but then he said, "Should we?"
"No way!" I replied. I knew watching Mom try to belly-dance would be just as catastrophic as another Hurricane Katrina. Dad thought it'd be a good gag-gift for her, but something tells me he was hoping Mom would end up using the book. I knew she wouldn't, though, so it would end up being a waste of money.
So, Mom, I hope I didn't ruin your birthday by not buying you a belly-dancing book. Why don't you just stick to Wii Fit?
Speaking of holidays, I wanted to wish all of you a Happy Valentines Day! Give that special someone a hug for me!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Why I'll Never Be a Country Boy
Every time I get into my mom's car, I go through the same thing;
Listen to country music.
Sure, you may like country music, but I am getting annoyed by it (with the exception of The Zac Brown Band). To further explain what I find disturbing about country music, I have compiled a list of reasons as to why I'll never go country.
First of all, absolutely every song you hear on Cat Country 98.1 is about one of the following things:
First off, bars. Country people can't get enough of them "honky tonks". The bar is a country boy's home-away-from-home, where they can laugh with their friends, get drunk, start a fight, meet a girl, kiss a girl, go to "third base" with a girl, break up with a girl, and get drunk again, all in one night. I basically covered everything on the previously-mentioned list, except for fishing. Honestly, that's just a bit much for me. I look forward to being a responsible driver, not a drunk one.
Then, there's women. God, country boys just can't get enough of them "badonkadonks". (Just ask Trace Adkins). Of course, as a teenage boy, I can't really say I disagree, but enough of that. Truth is, when you're a country boy, and you want to hook up with a girl, it leads to something of a "Cycle of Girlfriends". It works something like this; You meet a girl, get her drunk, take her home that night, get married the next day, and break up a week later. It's sad, really, which is just another reason why I don't want to be a country boy.
So, we've covered bars/beer, and girls. How's about fishing. I will admit, I've been fishing a couple times, and I have ti say, I'm not that bad at it. Thing is, Brad Paisley is obsessed with fishing.
And I don't like Brad Paisley.
He annoys me.
A lot.
I don't know why, but there's just something about him that annoys me. He tries to get all "rock-and-roll-y" in his songs. I say he either sticks to country, or sticks to rock-and-roll. Not both.
Guns are just a given in a country boy's life. Every country boy has a shot-gun in their closet upstairs, just waiting to take a shot at a deer, only to mount it's antlers above the fireplace. I like animals. `Nuff said.
That's about everything there is on that list. If you were wondering about what country girls are like, don't even get me started. You listen to at least five country songs sung by females, and you get to understand just how complicated women can be.
As you can see, country boys are very similar to gangster, rap boys, with the exception of bars, and fishing. Either way, you're bound to end up in jail, which is not the place for me.
Hence the reason why I'll never be a country boy.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Listen to country music.
Sure, you may like country music, but I am getting annoyed by it (with the exception of The Zac Brown Band). To further explain what I find disturbing about country music, I have compiled a list of reasons as to why I'll never go country.
First of all, absolutely every song you hear on Cat Country 98.1 is about one of the following things:
- Going to a bar
- Getting drunk at a bar
- Getting drunk
- Going out with a woman (or man, depending on gender of singer)
- Breaking up with a woman (or man, depending on gender of singer)
- Fishing
- Guns
- Making love
- Fighting
- Being "Young `n Reckless"
First off, bars. Country people can't get enough of them "honky tonks". The bar is a country boy's home-away-from-home, where they can laugh with their friends, get drunk, start a fight, meet a girl, kiss a girl, go to "third base" with a girl, break up with a girl, and get drunk again, all in one night. I basically covered everything on the previously-mentioned list, except for fishing. Honestly, that's just a bit much for me. I look forward to being a responsible driver, not a drunk one.
Then, there's women. God, country boys just can't get enough of them "badonkadonks". (Just ask Trace Adkins). Of course, as a teenage boy, I can't really say I disagree, but enough of that. Truth is, when you're a country boy, and you want to hook up with a girl, it leads to something of a "Cycle of Girlfriends". It works something like this; You meet a girl, get her drunk, take her home that night, get married the next day, and break up a week later. It's sad, really, which is just another reason why I don't want to be a country boy.
So, we've covered bars/beer, and girls. How's about fishing. I will admit, I've been fishing a couple times, and I have ti say, I'm not that bad at it. Thing is, Brad Paisley is obsessed with fishing.
And I don't like Brad Paisley.
He annoys me.
A lot.
I don't know why, but there's just something about him that annoys me. He tries to get all "rock-and-roll-y" in his songs. I say he either sticks to country, or sticks to rock-and-roll. Not both.
Guns are just a given in a country boy's life. Every country boy has a shot-gun in their closet upstairs, just waiting to take a shot at a deer, only to mount it's antlers above the fireplace. I like animals. `Nuff said.
That's about everything there is on that list. If you were wondering about what country girls are like, don't even get me started. You listen to at least five country songs sung by females, and you get to understand just how complicated women can be.
As you can see, country boys are very similar to gangster, rap boys, with the exception of bars, and fishing. Either way, you're bound to end up in jail, which is not the place for me.
Hence the reason why I'll never be a country boy.
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
A Look back at "Thirteen"
As most of you know, I'll be celebrating my fourteenth year living on this home planet we call Earth. The years I've spent here have been quite enjoyable, and I can only imagine what the years to come hold in store for me. As for my first year as a teenager, I've been greeted by more responsibility, and privileges, which is good, and bad in some ways. Allow me to go over some of these things that have happened over the past year:
And I'm sure Mom just can't wait the two years until I'll be driving!
Talk to you all next weekend!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
- I got my very first cell phone on my thirteenth birthday, only to have it be accidentally put through a cycle in the washing machine, and dryer, while it was still in one of my pants-pockets. I now use my dad's old cell phone, while he uses the new one he got for Christmas.
- I was given the privilege to be able to walk along the main road near my neighborhood, to walk to friends' houses. This may not sound like much, but when you've watched all your other friends do it for the past two years, you learn to want to be able to do it too.
- I was finally allowed to have a Facebook profile (funny story how I got it. Mom and dad know what I'm talking about. Heh-heh....), and was able to friend more people than my parents had (individually, that is) in about a month.
- And, of course, I started this blog.
And I'm sure Mom just can't wait the two years until I'll be driving!
Talk to you all next weekend!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Test-Drive
It's amazing what technology can accomplish these days.
You can take pictures, browse the Internet, talk on the phone, get directions to your mother-in-law's house, and order Thai food, all at the same time in the palm of your hand. (Results may vary)
Just one example of what I'm saying is this blog post, which I typed, and posted straight from my iTouch. I'm telling ya, these things are like little mechanical GODS! They can do almost anything! (unlike the iPhone, which does absolutely everything)
Anyway, I just wanted to test out this new app I got on my iTouch. This should prove to be quite convenient when I want to blog on-the-spot.
Hopefully I'll have more to talk about tomorrow. (and hopefully something interesting as well)
Happy Sunday!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
You can take pictures, browse the Internet, talk on the phone, get directions to your mother-in-law's house, and order Thai food, all at the same time in the palm of your hand. (Results may vary)
Just one example of what I'm saying is this blog post, which I typed, and posted straight from my iTouch. I'm telling ya, these things are like little mechanical GODS! They can do almost anything! (unlike the iPhone, which does absolutely everything)
Anyway, I just wanted to test out this new app I got on my iTouch. This should prove to be quite convenient when I want to blog on-the-spot.
Hopefully I'll have more to talk about tomorrow. (and hopefully something interesting as well)
Happy Sunday!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Friday, January 15, 2010
New Year's Resolutions
I probably should have mentioned this in today's earlier post, but I'm just gonna do it here.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know New Year's was weeks ago, but I wasn't available online during that time. So, I decided I should post some New Year's Resolutions.
Now, before anyone goes off, screaming "COPYRIGHT" in my face, I'll go ahead and say YES; I did get this idea from Badass Geek's blog. I don't mean to steal it, but I thought it'd be neat...
Not even sure if anyone from that blog is even reading this right now. If so, shhhhhh......
Anyway, here goes nothing:
So, if you have any resolutions, I'd be glad to hear them! Hope you enjoyed my list, and Happy Friday!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know New Year's was weeks ago, but I wasn't available online during that time. So, I decided I should post some New Year's Resolutions.
Now, before anyone goes off, screaming "COPYRIGHT" in my face, I'll go ahead and say YES; I did get this idea from Badass Geek's blog. I don't mean to steal it, but I thought it'd be neat...
Not even sure if anyone from that blog is even reading this right now. If so, shhhhhh......
Anyway, here goes nothing:
- Save up to 100$ in cash, without spending any until I do so
- Pick my nose with my left hand.
- Go to Canobie Lake Park
- Perform a magic trick to a complete stranger
- Place at least fifty (50) "Kick-Me" signs on my brothers (not individually) (must be unnoticed)
- Get two hundred (200) friends on Facebook
- Buy my Christmas presents with my own money
- Meet someone famous
- Watch an entire infomercial
- Play an entire game of Monopoly in one sitting
- Scam ten dollars out of a family member (legally, of course)
- Speak only in pig-latin for one day
- Teach Cooper to "Play Dead"
- Learn to do a tail-whip on a scooter
- Destroy Justin Bieber
- Learn to force a burp
- Learn how to say "The evil monkey in my closet stole my lucky underwear, and fed an angry parrot some Cheetos" in Spanish
- Post a photo of myself making a kissy-face on Facebook, just like every other girl on my Friends list has
- Walk around school with a sock-puppet on my hand.
- Win the championship game on my school/Recreational basketball team
- Build a Lego model of the Empire State Building, just like Buddy did in "Elf"
- Drink a two-liter bottle of soda all by myself
- Beat a video game in one day
- Make a collage of people wearing banana costumes
So, if you have any resolutions, I'd be glad to hear them! Hope you enjoyed my list, and Happy Friday!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
350 Days to Go...
My, oh my. I seems as though I haven't posted since last year! Happy (belated) New Year, everyone! These first fifteen days of 2010 have been pretty satisfying, if I do say so myself. I managed to blow all my Christmas cash in one and a half trips to GameStop (and I plan to make at least one more over vacation), I celebrated Noah's birthday with everyone (Happy belated birthday, Noah!), accidentally put my cell phone through the washing machine and dryer, and.... that's about it.
I'm also counting the days to my fourteenth birthday, which is just a week from this Tuesday. It's amazing to think that in only two years I'll be getting my driver's license (Hey, Mom, can you spell "heart-attack"?). Man, that's gonna be the day...
Anyway, not much else to say. Just wanted to check in on you guys, and I'll talk to you soon!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
I'm also counting the days to my fourteenth birthday, which is just a week from this Tuesday. It's amazing to think that in only two years I'll be getting my driver's license (Hey, Mom, can you spell "heart-attack"?). Man, that's gonna be the day...
Anyway, not much else to say. Just wanted to check in on you guys, and I'll talk to you soon!
Yours in awesomeness,
~Ry.
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