Knocked Up…Ryan Style

20 Dec

My co-worker/Publicist has brought to my attention that my readers don’t know the story behind That Girl Ryan. So I thought I would take the time and dive a little into my story…with a humorous touch of course because you just can’t take all this shit too seriously. Perhaps this will give you a better idea of why I write the nonsense that I write.

It also occurred to me that I haven’t really gone, in-depth about my husband, Boy Ryan (don’t worry, he’s well aware that his blog debut is drawing near). So I decided to make this a two-part blog, the first being a little background about me and part two about, That Boy Ryan.

We can go into an in-depth analysis on boy Ryan later…moving on…. Boy Ryan and I started hanging out-at first- on the weekends; mainly partaking in one of our favorite activities- college binge drinking (which, I’m not so sure we really gave up). Now, not to spoil too much about part two, one thing you have to understand about Boy Ryan is that he is a man of little, outward emotion. He does not openly express himself like normal human beings. This is probably why I was attracted to him the first place. He was like a pet project; it’s always a mystery to find out what the man is thinking. As you can imagine this relationship did not begin in a normal fashion.

I know, we look so normal.

I know, we look so normal.

Now as us gals know, we over-analyze everything with men. So working with little hints here and there, I started to notice that Boy Ryan was into me for more than just my impressive keg-stand record.

Like this one time we were at a party (we had no idea whose party, we just saw a party and walked in) and I of course, cut the line in beer pong. I strategically scratched out the next contender’s name on the list and inserted my own. The next contender was not enthused when she saw this. She asked her boyfriend to explain to me how a beer pong line list works. Well, the boyfriend decided to use the word SLUT to refer to me, more than a few times. I just starred blankly at him thinking quickly for a come back. But Boy Ryan stepped in before I had the chance to embarrass myself. Being the southern gentleman that he is, asked me to kindly go downstairs for a moment. I walked out of the room and went downstairs to wait for him. The next thing I know, Boy Ryan comes barreling down the stairs, his shirt ripped in half and behind him, a mob of Perry, boat shoe-frat boys. As we ran out of the house, Ryan grabbed my hand and it dawned on me that whatever happened up in that room was done to defend my honor. Even though I DID indeed cut the line, he still defended me. This little gesture continued throughout our relationship and I still, to this day think it’s adorable even if it is a tad violent.

OR another example…

One time I went to his house for a party and regrettably drank 2 cups of lethal “JMU Jungle Juice”. If you attended JMU and know about the jungle juice its probably because you encountered it at a baseball party. But like any good drinker, we always blame it on the juice. Well it was a long night, or short night, whichever perspective you choose to take, but basically it was all a blur to me. I woke up in Boy Ryan’s bed and realized I had peed his bed. No, I’m not kidding I peed the kid’s bed. I was more than mortified and quickly left his house not expecting any kind of communication to continue between us from that point on. But, can you believe that crazy idiot called me the next day? Now if someone peed my bed after only 4-5 weeks of hanging out, I would have never called them again, maybe only to ask for money to buy a new mattress. To this day I can’t comprehend why he called, maybe he just really liked the fact that my name was Ryan, or maybe he thought I was marking my territory and was flattered by that gesture.

We have had romantic moments (the kind that Hollywood defines as romantic), but for some reason, out of all the dates, flowers and jewelry, these moments are the ones that I always remember and love the best.

Fast forward about 11 months later and WAM, we found out I was pregnant. Now this is always the part that people ask me that stupid question, O-M-G, how did that happen? And I always answer…“Well I think it happened with little Birds and Bees and a wild Cinco-De-Mayo that year”.

We created a monster.

We created a monster.

A gorgeous one at that!

A gorgeous one at that!

When we found this out, I was miserable, embarrassed and just down right disappointed. Not only did this little Oopsy not fit into my five year plan, but I was still in college and I had to quit track. There is nothing more awkward than telling your track coach that you got knocked up and can’t compete anymore. “Coach, I wont be coming back to track this year. I sort of have this-let’s call it a disease, that requires me to get fat, crave ridiculous things like pickles and mayo and eventually push out a live human being out of small hole. SO…The whole track thing-yea I just don’t think its going to work out this year. Go Dukes!!”

I'm making a come back when I turn 40.

I’m making a come back when I turn 40.

The only thing that got me through this tough time was the award winning show, 16 and pregnant. Watching that train wreck made me feel better about myself. As I watched faithfully every week, I found that things could be a lot worse. My personal favorite life lesson came from Amber. Amber taught me that beating up your baby-daddy is NOT a good idea. Thank you MTV for that televised inspiration.

During this time I also reflected on why I was so embarrassed to be in this situation. I always wanted to be popular and liked by everyone. I wanted my story to be a successful one, the golden, all American girl themed story, similar to Carrie from Sex in the City. I wanted to be that girl at the party that was just enough fun but never over the top (however, coming from a family with a long history of alcoholism, just enough is really never enough, so that plan went to shit.)

My life took an unconventional path and going through this event, I soon realized that I’m more comfortable with being a tad different than I am with being normal. Like for instance, I had always imagined when it was time for my marriage proposal, it would be this magical thing. Fireworks would sparkle and these guys with guitars would sing and I would look so beautiful because I would have a killer outfit on that night. But remember, I married Boy Ryan and my proposal was anything BUT.

Boy Ryan is the worst at planning things out-Like throws a party and doesn’t remember to pick up the beer-worst. For my proposal, he took me out to go geo-caching. Geo-caching is like a scavenger hunts for adults but way, way nerdy-er. I was about 5 months pregnant at the time and he thought it would be such a great idea to hike up a hilly trail to get to the right spot. Well, after 45 minutes of hiking and a nasty case of swamp ass, we were at the “perfect” spot. He pulled out his GPS Geo-caching app on his phone and told me to follow him down a rocky ledge. This ledge was covered in rocks, steep and slippery. It lead right to the edge of a waterfall-Again, not a good idea to make the woman carrying your child to climb down a ledge.

Actually, thinking about it now, he may have been trying to kill me and thought “if this pregnant girl makes it down this ledge, I’ll propose to her” Well, lucky man that he is, I made it down the hill with my fat self and there he was kneeling, face red and grinning from ear to ear. At that moment, all my fantasies of being proposed to with fireworks and guys with guitars seemed so…blah. This proposal was not the picture I had created in my mind. But you know what, it was so Boy Ryan to do something like that. He wouldn’t think ahead of time that pregnant women couldn’t hike up hills or climb down steep ledges. He wouldn’t think to make sure I wore proper shoes or dressed in pants that wouldn’t show my sweaty ass marks. The whole thing was so funny and backwards that it will always be memorable.

This whole backwards thing has been a hell of a fun ride and I have no idea where it will take us. From this epiphany, I’ve unlocked a great secret that perfection is boring. Because nobody is perfect. If you watch enough 20/20 episodes, you’ll see relationships are not always what they seem.

Such an awkward photo, I had to share it.

Such an awkward photo, I had to share it. Of course Boy Ryan looks out of his ring like it’s a telescope.

So with that being said, I write what others are too afraid to admit. I also write because my therapist thinks it’s the best thing for my Adult ADD. But now that you know a little about me, you might understand the perspective I choose to take.

I strongly suggest you stay tuned for part 2 because I am going to have a blast telling you about my husband.

 

WHO IS THAT BOY RYAN…coming soon.

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4 Responses to “Knocked Up…Ryan Style”

  1. Rob December 22, 2012 at 3:29 am #

    Great blog!

  2. Deb Chown January 17, 2013 at 1:58 pm #

    Hey, you left out the part about rolling down the hill! It is my favorite part as the hill seemed particularly long in your memory and you were rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling (I think you get the idea now) down the hill! Love you!

    • Ryan January 17, 2013 at 2:05 pm #

      Rolling down the hill just doesn’t have the same effect in writing. No one would truly understand how we kept rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling…you know what i mean? It’s a roll that indescribable. 🙂

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Southern Boy Living In a Northern World | That Girl Ryan - January 24, 2014

    […] I told myself I would never do, I married a southern boy. I also told myself I’d never get knocked up before marriage, but I did that too…by a southern boy who I said I would never marry. Go […]

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