Tag Archives: Live

The Most Interesting Man In The World

19 Feb

This topic was inspired by a writing challenge that was posted on WordPress.com last Friday.

The Prompt:

This week’s writing challenge: Tell us about a character in your life. It could be your best friend, your partner, your child, or even your third grade teacher. With as much detail as possible, make this person real for us. Tell us more than what they look like or how you met. Let us know what their laugh sounds like, or that oddball quirk that makes this person so unique.

After reading this, one person in my life immediately came to mind….

The Man of the Hour

The Man of the Hour

Coming into this world, you don’t get choose much. Your parents, your home, your siblings…they usually just come with the main package of birth. Sometimes I wonder that maybe each of us are placed strategically in an environment to learn valuable life lessons from those around us. Well, let me tell you, this particular person has taught me a lot about life, in a variety of interesting ways.

This character at first glance is very normal looking, brown eyes with blondish hair (blonde from sun-in, but he would never admit that) his height is nothing to gawk at and neither is his weight; the one thing that makes this character in my life so unique is his mind. This character has the most interesting perspectives I have ever heard, his thoughts and theories would crumble a grown man’s entire moral structure (in a good way) with one in-depth discussion because you just can’t predict what this guy is going to say next.

Let me put it to you this way; I’ve known the man my entire life and still can’t figure that fucker out.

You just haven’t lived until you have spent some time with my dad.

My dad is a born and breed jersey boy, but not the Guido type. He is still married to my mother, lord help him and has three girls, the best being his eldest daughter, me of course.

Ever since I was a wee-toddler, I have always found him fascinating. His mind works in ways that I don’t think Stephan Hawke could keep up with and he has more conspiracy theories than Jesse Ventura. He is just THAT interesting.

dadTm

So, let’s all try and understand my dad, maybe you can figure him out. 

Andy’s Advice 

My dad gives some killer advice. His advice does not come in long winded speeches or rants; His advice comes out of nowhere and is never up for discussion. He literally will walk into a room, delivers the line and exits (no questions please). You just take it for what its worth and move on.

My top 5 favorite Andy Advice lines:

  1. If you ever do something bad and get caught, don’t ever admit to it. Even if you get caught red-handed, you LIE and LIE and never admit it was you.(age 12)
  2. Police are all pigs, they are out to screw you over. Don’t ever trust a cop, I can’t stand them. (age 17)
  3. Listen Ryan, I’ve done a lot in my life and I am all for trying everything once. Seriously, try it all once but always, no matter what, always make sure you wrap the “Tool” before having fun. (age 16)
  4. When I die, I am going to visit you as a ghost, don’t be all scared…because then I will just screw with you and make you scared. (age 20)
  5. You only get about 80 solid years on this earth, so you might as well have a good time while you’re here. (age 23)

Andy’s Spirituality

My dad has always been interested in the supernatural and unexplained phenomenon. When my friends come over, the only rule I asked them to follow with my dad is to NOT ask/talk/mention anything related to ghost, psychic or orbs. They can talk about drugs, sex and rock and roll, but please -NO supernatural shit.

My dad’s particular interest is orbing (catching ghost energy in pictures). According to some ghost hunters, a person’s energy never really disappears, even after they die. Their energy is attracted to other energy which is why if you take a picture, orbs can be present in the photo.

Orbs

Orbs

When I was younger, about 10, he would pick me up from soccer practice and tell me that we are making a pit stop before heading home. I would get so excited thinking we were going to get ice cream but you know where the pit stop was? In a fucking graveyard. My dad would go to the graveyard with his camera so he could get photo evidence of  spirits. He would actually make me get out of the car and be in his pictures to “attract” the spirits. I am no expert in parenting, but using your child as ghost bate doesn’t seem to be very orthodox.

One time, my family actually took an orbing vacation to Gettysburg on the anniversary of the Gettysburg battle. Yes, courtesy of Andy, we spent 4 days romping around the battlefields at night taking pictures to catch orbs.

I remember going back to school after summer vacation…

“So Ryan, I went to the Bahamas over summer break, what did you do?!”

“I went ghost hunting with my family in graveyards”

That is a great transition into my dad’s next fascination, psychics. Have you ever heard of Edgar Cayce? Well he is a famous psychic that wrote a bunch of books on futuristic prophecies, past life predictions and holistic ways to cure sicknesses. Needless to say my dad has always been a loyal fan. He has even tried some of these holistic treatments to cure my family…

Got a Problem? Andy’s got an answer for that!

 

Nagging Cough?
Andy’s Answer: take an empty barrel, fill it with apple brandy and breathe in the fumes with short tube.
You want to know how embarrassing it is to have your friends come over and your entire family is inhaling fumes from a barrel full of apple brandy? No, because I bet your dad would simply go down the street for some fucking Robitussin.

Hair loss?

Andy’s Answer: Crude Oil!

Crude Oil comes from god knows where, it smells like rubber and engulfs the entire house in that exact smell. My dad would bathe his head in this shit, every other day for months to encourage his hair follicles to grow. But it gets worse…He would force me to look at his “bald spot” –located on the back of his head-and tell him his hair was growing back.

“Ryan, come here. Look at my head. Is there more hair there?”

“Dad, It looks no different from last week”

“What the fuck do you  mean? Yes there is your not looking hard enough, look again”

“Dad, I don’t see anything. I have to go”

But even if you do tell him you see the hair growth, that’s never good enough, he must see the proof for himself. My sister actually found a folder on his computer of “Bald Spot” pictures. He would take pictures of his bald spot, upload them on his computer so he could analyze the growth himself.

I would assume most dad’s have a secret folder of porn pictures on their computer; mine has a secret folder of “hair re-growth” pictures on his.

Diabetes?

Andy’s Answer: Jerusalem Artichokes.

This year when my 9 year old sister was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, (the kind that’s in-curable), guess who had the cure?! Modern medicine? No, of course not because brilliant doctors have no idea what they are doing. But Andy knows just the trick, Jerusalem Artichokes. My dad suggested that my sister stop taking insulin and just eat Jerusalem Artichokes to cure her diabetes, but unfortunately, my mother put a stop to that plan.

Famous Andy Pranks

My dad’s pranks have left lasting scars on my development as a competent adult.

1. When I was 6, sometimes my mom would go on business trips. My dad would take of advantage of the lack of parental authority and let me watch movies such as Freddy Krueger, Chucky, and Poltergeist.

Ok, so I can live with little kids watching scary movies, but he would take it a step further. He would hide in my room, preferably in a dark corner and put on his Freddy Kruger mask from Halloween. When I would walk into my room and turn on the lights, SURPRISE Freddy Kruger, the child killing machine would be there to greet me. He always found this hilarious and never could understand why I am still scared of the dark at the age of 24. Thanks Dad for the heart-restart.

Imagine this beauty hiding in your room.

Imagine this beauty hiding in your room

2. Fast forward a few years later, age 9, and my family went on a camping trip. My dad runs down to the local grocery and invited me to come along. While we was in the store, I found a playground and asked my dad to let me know when he was leaving. About 10 minutes later as I was on the swings, I see my dad’s car drive off. I immediately start to race after the car, waving my hands and screaming to my dad. The car continued down the street, turned the corner and disappeared. I sat for a moment to take in what had just happened, my dad left me at a gas station and I started to hysterically cry.  About 6-8 minutes later, the car returned and I see my dad laughing his ass off.

Ryan, the look on your face was priceless! Hahaha that was so funny, you actually thought I left you. I was just playing a joke, get in the car, And- O and don’t tell your mother”

 

Andy’s War on Technology

At home, my dad is always on the computer, probably re-analyzing his bald spot pictures. When you ask him what he is doing, he immediately responds with “Im doing some work”. But you know what he is really doing? He is reading about  holistic medicine therapies, researching UFO sightings, and surfing on facebook.

Andy has more friends on facebook than I do. You know why? Because he has friended all of my friends. I actually have been at a party and overheard two of my friends chatting,

“O, so I saw your friends on facebook with that guy Andy; who the hell is he?”

“I dunno, I saw he was friends will all my facebook friends so I just accepted his request.”

I refuse to inform these people that, that guy “Andy” is my dad because at the end of the day, he will always be that guy who “likes” your post.  Even if you posted the dumbest thing on facebook, Andy will “Like” the post and make you feel special, so its better, I guess, he friends everyone. 

 

Want to friend Andy? Here's his profile...just be careful, he might find you first: https://www.facebook.com/andrew.olexson?ref=ts&fref=ts

Want to friend Andy? Here’s his profile…just be careful, he might find you first: https://www.facebook.com/andrew.olexson?ref=ts&fref=ts

AutoCorrect

Once My dad asked me to take off the auto correct on his cell phone because it messed up his text messages.

“Why do you want me to take it off dad?

“Because I can’t spell certain words. Like for instance, yesterday I went to spell Farkle and it kept auto-correcting to the word, Sparkle”

I’m no spelling-bee winner, but what the fuck is farkle? Is that a real word, can you use it in a sentence? Who texts the word farkle?

Well I looked it up….

Just a typical Saturday night playing FARKLE!

Just a typical Saturday night playing FARKLE!

The back-extension machine

One weekend my dad was MIA. He was locked up in the garage and nobody knew what he was up to. Then on Sunday night, he came upstairs and you could tell he was very proud of himself. He grabbed a drink of water and went back downstairs. I assumed that he had finished his project so I followed him a few minutes after to snoop and see what he was up to.

I open the door to the garage and saw my dad hanging from the ceiling, upside down like a bat in a cave. I looked up to the ceiling and realized he had taken his old roller blades and made them shoe-hooks. These hooks, were attached to an anchor on a piece of wood that was nailed into the ceiling.

“God dammit ryan, shut the door! I am fixing my back!”

“fixing your back? Your hanging from the ceiling! What is the point of that?”

“I read on the internet that this helps your back, now get out. O, and don’t tell your mom, she will get all psycho and tell me I’m weird”

Yes, the man created a home-back extension machine in his own garage. You have got to give him kudos for the idea…

Doomsday wannabe prep-per

Have you ever seen that show “DoomsDay Prepper?” My dad is borderline qualified to be on this show. Him and my mother went through a mid-life crisis and they did not buy a red convertible or get a younger girlfriend or boyfriend, they started prepping.

Step 1: The developed a “ trash composite” site in their backyard

Step 2: They bought a generator

Step 3: They began eating weird plants like “Wheat grass” and Chi Seeds

Step 4: They dug up the entire yard to put in public water system so they can save their well water for a “disaster”

Step 5: They hoard enough fire wood to heat the neighborhood

Step 6: They started lecturing my siblings and I about the end of the world and their plan of action

Step 7: My dad started researching on the internet all the possibilities that could result in a doomsday situation and the many things he needs to do to prepare for each.

Step 8: When Hurricane Irene hit, a lot of the transformers in the town started to explode and gave off a bright green light. My parents insisted these were not transformers, but aliens landing on earth.

Dooms Day Preppers, Meet Andy.

He could survive any disaster.

He could survive any disaster.

So yes, when your born you don’t choose your parents and I’m so glad I got stuck with mine. My dad may be a little off center, but he’s quite an interesting character and if you know my dad, you are just as lucky as I am.

And Dad, if your reading this…I already know what you’re thinking,

“This whole post is full of shit. I DO NOT take pictures of my bald spot”

Well, the entire world knows that you really do. But dad, do us all a favor- don’t ever change a thing, I love you just the weird way that you are.

 

I Named My Pet Peeve, It’s Called “Annoyance”

7 Feb

Pet Peeve

Hello my TGR Readers! This is my 10th post on my blog, Yeah Me for sticking to something!

I was really stumped thinking of what I could write this week to mark my 10th blog posting. It really pissed me off. So after sitting for hours thinking and annoying myself….wala! Being annoyed actually inspired me to write about annoying things…WEIRD annoying things. So, I made a list of my top 5 Pet Peeves.

But before I dive into my list, I want to let you know that I am really interested in what annoys YOU!

At the end of this post, please post your strangest pet peeve and a little bit about why it drives you nuts.

Let’s see who has the strangest pet peeve out there…

My Top 5 Strangest Pet Peeves

1. Fake Huggers

Clearly a fake hug caught in a photo

Clearly a fake hug caught in a photo

 

My publicists and I have gotten into deep discussions about “Fake hugs”. I bet each one of you has a fake hugger in your life. These fake huggers give the weakest, most non-emotional hugs a human being could provide. A feather might actually give you a better hug.

Sometimes I get the hug and just think, “Why even hug me at all? Why don’t we just skip the hug and move on”.

Definition of a fake hug: usually come as a side hug (they reach across you with one arm and hold an itty-bitty squeeze for 3 seconds) or a failed bear hug (they put both arms around you and keep so much space in the middle that you awkwardly have to lean away and hug their shoulders).

Fake huggers, hug you as if you have some contagious disease and they don’t want to get infected. Its ok, because fake huggers are just fake people, never trust a fake hugger. You know how that saying goes, don’t judge a person by how they look? Well, you can definitely judge them by how they hug. One day, I believe there will be a study done on the correlation of bad hugging and bad people.

And just a note, if you have no idea what the hell i’m talking about, chances are you that you give fake hugs. I suggest  learning how to give a proper hug quickly or sticking to classic cheek kissing.

2. Fat People in McDonald’s

There is nothing rewarding about this picture.

There is nothing rewarding about this picture.

Ok, picture this…you have been religiously sticking to your diet and workout routine. You maybe have lost some weight and are feeling great. Now, if your anything like me, you know its time for THE ultimate reward (and I ain’t talking about a shopping spree). You know its time for a Big Mac/ Milkshake Combo at McDonald’s.

So you pull up in your car, butterflies are going off in your tummy as you open that door, and you even trade smiles with a stranger because you both know this is a moment when life is at it’s best. Nobody comes to Micky D’s unhappy.

You continue down that the walkway to the “Place your order” counter and look up as your take your place in line. And that is when you see it, you are standing in line behind THE 700lb man.

Whoomp Whoomp.

I know this is extremely shallow, but it ticks me off to see obese individuals in fast food places. Its like a reminder of why I shouldn’t be there and it’s no where near a satisfying experience.

To be honest, it’s about as satisfying as eating and shitting on the toilet at the same time.

3. Food Thieving

This next pet peeve is a bit extreme, but it makes the top five.  I believe it has something to do with my childhood.

My parents were always against us kids eating junk food-Thank you mom and dad, my hips and ass appreciate it.

You see, when my parents would buy junk food it would only be on special occasions, usually, every 6-8 weeks, minimum. Between my siblings and parents, we would eat junk food like it was going out of style because you just never knew when the  next binge of junk food would be coming. Carpe Diem.

This had a profound effect on dining situations that I have encountered as an adult.

EXAMPLE:

I am sitting in a restaurant and the waiter brings out the food that I had ordered. Lets just say I ordered Lasagna.

Bobby-a friend I am dining with- takes his fork, reaching across the table, and helps himself to a piece of my lasagna.

-End Example-

This might be normal to you, but to me…this is a total FOOD Party FOUL. It doesn’t matter how close of friends Bobby and I are, he just crossed a line.

When this situation occurs, an animal-is-tic rage comes over me and I have visions of taking my fork and poking Stabbing the hand of the food burglar.

First off, certain food items are considered luxuries in my belly (remember, I was a junk-food deprived child). These days the stomach and I-We’re gluten-free. Lasagna is a fucking treat.

Second off, if I wanted to give you a piece I would offer you a piece. There was no asking, no eye contact for approval, Shit, not even a nod that says, WOW, that looks great let me try some-nothing. Just a fork, on my plate, in my food.

When this situation occurs, I usually don’t say anything or make a fuss, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I  had a total melt down over it one day. I think I would grab their mouth, pull the food out  and say something like, “Back off Bitch, that’s my lasagna”.

4. Breathers

This has two sub-categories: Phone breathers and Food breathers.

A.    Phone Breathers….UGH, I come across these people everyday in my profession. They breathe into the phone so much you can’t even understand what they are saying. The worst is when breathers leave me voicemails because you now have to listen to the message 4 times so that you can decode the words between each breathe.

VOICEMAIL:

HMMMMMM, Hello, my name is Cindy, HHMMMMMMM, I am calling to, HMMMMM, To ask if you could give me a call back as soon as you can. 973. Hmmmmmm. 77….hmmmmm….56, HMMMMMMM, Thank you, have a nice Day HHHHHHHHHMMMMM

My immediate thought to Cindy:

Cindy, just write me a fucking email.

B.    Food breathers…These types of people breathe heavily while chewing their food. It’s like eating dinner next to a vacuum.

Unfortunately, My mother falls into this category.  I sometimes get so annoyed by her breathing while she eats, that I have to play my Ipod or talk loudly at the dinner table to drown out the sound.

One time, when she was eating broccoli, she noticed that I was annoyed by her breathing. So to make a point, she asked :

“Ryan, would you rather:

Allow me to eat my broccoli and breathe…….. or Suffocate on the broccoli

I sat for a while thinking about this question….and I decided not to answer.

5. In-betweeners

The finish off my top 5 pet peeve list, I want to explain the “In-betweeners”.

Have you ever been walking through the store and catch a glimpse of a person that has an “in-between” gender? You actually have to ask yourself,  “Is that person a boy or a girl?”.

It's always a surprise

It’s always a surprise

I have noticed that I usually encounter this pet peeve in Walmart and the person always falls under 1 of 2 categories…

1. The Girl Who Could Be a Boy

2. The All-Too-Obvious-Woman

The girl who could be a boy… The Question: is that person a chubby lesbian or a feminine looking man? It’s not like their outfits are dead give-a ways so your eyes always go to the obvious area of the body, The Boobs. But here is what gets tricky, Boobs can be real or they can be man boobs. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.

chaz-bono-profile

Chaz, great example

The All-Too-Obvious-Woman….At first glance, your brain thinks, woman, but then you take a second look because  you honestly haven’t seen a single woman your whole life who is as tall as Yow Ming the basketball player. Once you notice the height, you go again to the boobs and see that they are a little off center or a little too pointy to be real, but then again Madonna made that look work in the 80’s.  So you continue to scan for more clue and that most likely brings you to the person’s nails… the nails are always super-long and painted a ridiculous zebra print.

And then you get to the shoes, always a dead give a way.

These all-too-obvious women always do this, no matter what the season or the temperature is outside, they always wear open-toed sandals that are way too small for their feet.

All Too Obvious

All Too Obvious

But even if you have the signs listed above, you never REALLY know the truth.
And that is why I get so annoyed; I can’t even focus on my shopping by this point.

Either way it’s a total loose/loose situation. Sometimes I leave the store in a deep internal conversation….

“That was a guy! Did you not see the hair on the hands?”

“No way, the boobs were too big to be a guy, it was definitely a girl. She was just a Rosie O’Donnel type of girl”

“Ha! Those were total man boobs. They were the result of too much Kentucky Fried Chicken. There wasn’t even a formation of a breast bud present under that shirt!”

And that my friends, concludes my top 5 list.

So now that you know mine, What Are Your Pet Peeves?

 

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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Showing America how to Live

King of States!

I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion.

The Goldwoman

Buffet-eater, bodysuit-enthusiast, bad-bitch.

A Buick in the Land of Lexus

fresh hell trumps stale heaven

The Bromance Diaries

The riveting inner-workings of two souls riddled with bromance.

Hacker.Ninja.Hooker.Spy.

Some mistakes are too good not to share

Really a Waitress

let's not pretend