Extreme Makeover: Desmond Edition

One sign that my work with Desmond was not going unnoticed was this: He became "the kid who needs a haircut". Whenever someone would pass him in the hallway, they would say, "Dang Dezz when you gettin a haircut boy?" or "hahaha look at that sugarbush you got on ya head". Whenever he used to pass someone in the hallway, it would be scared looks or very cautious hellos. This "reaction evolution" has been a total validation of my efforts to reform his murderous tendencies.

He finally got his haircut, and became the local gossip for the day. Personally, his bare-headed return from Memorial Day weekend totally threw me off, even if it did give everyone else something to chat about.

I think old-look Desmond was a cuter kid than new-look Desmond in my book, but feel free to scroll down for a comparison picture, and make the call for yourself...

Chibloggo: The Windy City Chronicles (Part 2)

Tomorrow morning bright and early, I leave for China. I REPEAT: TOMORROW MORNING I WILL BE OFF THIS CONTINENT AND OUT OF COMMUNICATION WITH EVERYONE! Just a heads up for all who are not sure why my cellphone is totally inactive for a near half month, Rob Critchlow style. (By the way homie, if you read this, it's been way too long, let's do lunch when I get back) I should really pay a friend to change their facebook status to let people know I'm gone...or not...anyhow, let's move on to part 2 of our journey, shall we...

Saturday

11:06am - Successfully wake up later than the usual 7:00 my body clock is naturally set to during the week. Waking up early is great. Unless of course, you're on a vacation where later nights are the name of the game and no one else is around at sunrise.

12:22pm - Time to get our grub on. We walk over to a hot spot called Lou Mitchell's bakery for breakfast. More like brunch, as we were ready to hammer down one huge meal so that we could just snack pregame. Place is pretty packed, so my expectations began to build. I also had heard that breakfasts in the Midwest cost an arm and a leg, and was curious to see what the damage would be in relation to the quality of the meal. I got the 2 eggs meal, equipped with homefries and toast, then added on a couple pancakes for good measure. The coffee was not as good as Friday morning's, but the meal itself was outstanding. It came in a smoking hot skillet, a pretty cool touch I thought. Side note: The size variations of the 2 eggs you get at different restaurants never ceases to boggle my mind. I understand that eggs come in different sizes, but still...A pair of eggs at this spot was literally 5 times bigger than an IHOP or Dennys. That's a pretty enormous gap between breakfasts, and can be totally confusing when you're trying to order the right amount of grub.

12:58pm - Leave to table to go to the b-room, with every intention of coming back and finishing my monstrous meal. I start to get a weird feeling that the waitress may take away my plate while I'm gone, but shrug it off.

1:06pm - Noooooooooo!!! Always trust your gut, especially in food-related situations. Luckily, I've consumed 6 pounds of breakfast at this point so the 7th was not essential to my satisfaction. I just despise the idea of wasting food, so much so that it has led me to do incredibly "dirty" things in the past i.e. taking complete strangers leftovers off their hands so good food wouldn't end up in the trash can. As much as people rip me for doing things like this, I never once have gotten sick from it, nor do I believe I ever will.

1:29pm - After stiffing the waitress for taking the plate early (just kidding obvi.), we walk out and chat about what a cutie she was, and how its super lame to hit on any chick in a server position while they're on the job. Good chat, and one of a large bunch we had during my time. (I really wish I could make an all-time greatest conversations list. The two ones that easily make the conversation Hall of Fame that I can think of off the top of my head are 1-Me and Robbie's infamous "Cherry coke is the booooooomb. I wish we had invented it" one, and 2-Me, Doran and Scott's "Holy crap, if bugs ever joined forces with each other and revolted against humans we would be absolutely screwed" one a couple weekends ago)

2:00pm - We walk back to the Mercy Home where Tom shows me the kids' place where he works, and I get to meet a couple of them. It's a really nice facility in general for both the staff and the kids, the type of place I could even see myself at in the right circumstances. The kids rag us for sporting our bright orange Flyers shirt jerseys, and tell us we better watch our backs wearing them around the city. At this point, we had no idea what sort of response we would get from Chicago fans who didn't know us.


2:35pm - Cruise around the city for a bit in our Orange, and try to get to a landmark or two covered in Blackhawks stuff so we could deface it, or far more likely take pictures with it wearing our Philly gear. Traffic is getting bad in the city however, and a couple roads are blocked off, so we veto that option and return back to the pad to get a few down hours before we entered the madness at the United Center. While in Tom's neck of the woods, we get heckled for our orange attire by a cop and a paramedic in succession. Yeeeeeesss.

3:30pm - Watch some of the lacrosse final four and veg out with Tommy's roomies before catching our cab to the arena. The calm before the storm, exactly the mental preparation needed before going into enemy territory in Game 1 of a championship series rocking the away team's colors.

5:50pm - We catch our cab, which was only a 7 dollar ride, and get out at the United Center. Entering a sea of Red and Black, I get a serious adrenaline rush and start walking like I'm in a posture contest. I put on a fierce scowl, which in reality probably looked like a constipated face, but in my mind...I looked like I had more intent to kill than Liam Neeson in Taken.

6:15pm - I had so many people tell me going in to "be careful" and "don't wear your jersey" and all this nonsense. Bottom line is that other than the consistent (yet ultimately underwhelming) heckling, no one even seemed like a remote threat. We chatted it up with some diehard Hawks fans on the way to the standing room section, and got a solid picture with the ice in the background. Upon arriving at what would end up being "our" standing room for the game, we met a really nice couple sitting in front of us and some other standing room people, a group of Hawks fans our age and a couple Philly fans, who ended up being our go-to guys for high-fives, man hugs, and mostly an awkward combination of the two at the same time.

7:20pm - The United Center game introductions were incredible, and the arena was rocking. It's so strange when your will for something is directly opposed to the hopes and dreams of 22,000 people, and you're all in the same building. The other really crazy thing was after a Flyers goal, hearing nothing but the shouts of the road team's fans sprinkled intermittently throughout the crowd, echoing in the arena. There were so many other things that stood out during my time watching the game. Too many to mention, and I fear too many to even remember. I suppose I will just have to do it again the next time a Philly team makes a Championship Finals.

10:30pm - We left the arena disappointed with the outcome, but absolutely thrilled with the experience. I didn't diary the game, because everyone who would read this either knows how it went down, or would be bored with the details. We both agree it's the most fun we've ever had at a loss, and also agree that we are totally confused about Chicago fans. They were incredibly friendly and showed great hospitality, but on the flip side I felt like there was no question which city needed/needs to win more. There's a reason Philly is the greatest sports city in the country, and even though once in awhile we have a drunken idiot draw negative publicity our way, the majority of fans are upstanding citizens who are extremely passionate about their squads who don't draw the positive acclaim they're due.

10:42pm - Getting back to Tom's place, we excitedly tell of our time at the game to whatever roomates would listen, while refueling with food and brew. A few team members hit the hay, and it's me, Tom and two of his roomates, Megan and Erin. We play some pong, and put the Ry-pod on music detail. One of my favorite things ever is handing my Ipod to someone who has never seen it, and watching them scroll through the selection and eventually put on a tune or a playlist. I don't know why it's so exciting to me, but it is.

12:01am - The fantastic four as I referred to us (and by that I mean "never-ever referred to us as until this particular sentence"), ventured to a little dive that reminded me of a bunch of places in Philly I've been to over the years. We chatted there for a good while, then headed back to the homefront.

7:20am - Finally crashed on a couch in the living room area after essentially pulling an all-nighter chatting it up with Megan, whose hand I will ask for in marriage if I ever venture out to the Midwest again. I alluded to great conversation earlier, and I must say this was a theme throughout the trip, one that enhanced the entire experience.
On a "ridiculously cheesy yet totally true" note: There are sooo many dynamic people out there. It's crazy to think that while you are blessed with some people in your lives for long periods of time, others just make a brief appearance, leave a mark, and you never see them again. I feel totally undeserving of all the wonderful people who give me joy as mere passerbys, let alone the ones that contribute to the awe-inspiring love I feel on a regular basis. It was an absolutely overwhelming feeling that hit me on the flight home, and one that I felt tied into my trip to a certain extent. (More on my blessed self in a future serious/religious blog, always a reader favorite haha)

10:30am - Sunday Morning was relaxed. We walked around a bit and got lunch at bar&grill that was a stone's throw away from the Mercy home. Watched the Phils offense continue to sputter against the Marlins and reflected on the time I spent in the Windy City. Eventually Tom dropped me at the airport, we hugged it out, and I was on my way. The weekend there was really difficult to put into a couple blog posts, just too many little things and quirky details words wouldn't adequately explain.

See ya in a few weeks peeps!!!

Chibloggo: The Windy City Chronicles (Part 1)

You ever have expectations for something become so large that there's almost no way they can possibly live up to the fantastical images your mind has created? I single- handedly ruined the movie Training Day for Ben before he saw it by building the hype to a point where no matter how much he enjoyed it, it would fall short of the lofty expectations I set. I think for me, many trips are the same way. Rarely does everything go as smoothly as planned, and it's not realistic to think that there won't be at least some logistical issues to subtly change one's mood through the duration of their travels. My trip to Chi-town this past weekend was the exception to the expectation rule. Allow me to share with you a 2-part diary of my time with Tommy Boy and company, which exceeded the unreasonably high hopes for it I had going in...

Thursday

11:15am - I decided to go into work for a few hours since my flight wasn't leaving till 2:15pm. It was pretty cool to see my coworkers excitement for my trip, which I had been beaming about for weeks. They knew how much of a big deal it was, and that it became an even bigger deal before when I purchased the Stanley Cup Game 1 tickets. There were points where I was visibly giddy, and they seemed to feed off that energy. Very cool stuff, and I believe a natural part of having great coworker chemistry which we have. I told Desmond that I was leaving for lunch, and that I would see him on Tuesday. I found out later, and not surprisingly, that he just heard the "lunch" part and apparently was talking about me the next day as if I was absent from work because I was still on my lunchbreak from the day before.

11:53am - Arrived home, where my sis was waiting to drive me to the airport. 2 hours before, she had signed for the Flyers tickets, which were overnighted to me just in the nick of time. She agreed to stop and let me treat her to some Philly Flavors Ikeem while en route to Philly International. Needless to say, a ride to the airport, Stanley Cup tickets in hand, and some ikeem to get us on our way was a recipe for a perfect start to a trip.

12:55pm - Got to the port, snagged my carry-on bags, and started the process of getting to the actual gate. The process was far more painless than I imagined, and I was sitting for a mere hour before the 2:20 departure time.

2:12pm - Began to board the plane, with the LOST finale fresh in my mind, sparking a train of convoluted thoughts regarding planes, death, tropical islands, and whether or not I was an in-closet science fiction fan. (I decided on no, because outside of Star Wars and some LOST episodes, I really think the genre is painful. That, and I already filled my nerdiness quota with fantasy sports)

2:37pm - Aaaaaaaaaaaaand Liftoff. A few minutes in I convince myself there is no shot of me sleeping, so I opted for reading and playing a game I call, "Guess what's on the stranger's Ipod, and creepily try to glance over and find out when they're looking the other way or sleeping." This game, and all its many variances, is eventually going to get me into a VERY awkward situation.

3:35pm (Central Time) - The Southwest Airlines Flying Jawn touches down in Chi-Town while 2 babies, a black boy and a white girl, curiously stare each other down. Meanwhile, their fathers are holding them like ventriloquist dummies, speaking to each other from the baby's perspective. Dad 1: "Hey girl, what are you doing this weekend? We should hang out" Dad 2: "Well you know I am just super busy. Eat, sleep, poop, eat, sleep, poop." ....and so on, back and forth....absolutely dynamite moment even before setting a foot on the Illinois ground.

3:46pm - After finding out that Tom is caught up in some traffic, I take the time to grab a bag of pretzels and a dollar lottery scratch-off ticket. My thinking with the ticket was simple: If I hit big, not only do I cover the price of the Flyers tickets but also have a fantastic story to start my trip. Alas, it was a dud, but it was a chance worth taking. I try to take huge risks like buying buck lotto tickets, if for no other reason than to live on the edge. I am such a baller sometimes.


4:45pm - Tom eventually gets to Midway and we head back to his work & residence, while agreeing that the trip sneaked up on us. Arriving at the Mercy Home, I instantly feel comfortable. Tom hooked the room up with a welcome sign, as is the tradition with every guest that stays. He went far past the usual guest welcome though, adding a liberty bell-shaped Phillies banner, some bottled water, a tastykake and a "doll" with a Phillies Jersey to the room's decor. Finding an old acoustic guitar proved to be the final piece to the puzzle, and I ended up rocking out in a rocking chair in my room in brief moments of down time throughout my stay.

5:32pm - Tom introduces me to Binny's, the Wal-Mart of alcoholic beverage purchases. I have to take a few minutes, overwhelmed by the beer selection and the equally outstanding prices. Tom and I grab a 6-pack of 312, a Windy City special, and head back to my new home away from home.

6:03pm - Still in shock that we actually are going to be in attendance for the Flyers game, we get on the topic of the Broad Street Bullies special on HBO. Sure enough, we turn to HBO and it's on, and only 3 minutes in. I can get on board with any well-made documentary, so you can imagine my thoughts on a well made documentary on a subject that interests me. We stay mesmerized by the tube for the next hour, enjoying some quality brews while we lounge.

7:09pm - Out we go to Giordano's for some deep dish pizza. I had heard mixed reviews about the whole deep dish scene, but this is the conclusion I came to: It may be called pizza, but it has to be evaluated by its own rating system. It's like comparing a golden retriever with a wolf. And best believe, I wolfed down my fair share of the delectable local favorite.

11:35pm - After getting to meet a good handful of Tom's 13 roomates, we went out with 2 of them, Erin and Rachel, to a local watering hole owned by a couple of diehard Blackhawks fans. Beautiful night, as a cool Chicago breeze blew through the open windows in the front of the building where we sat. Just a perfect end to the first night, totally laid back and relaxed before the schedule began to pick up in the days to follow.

Friday

9:51am - Wake up up after a comfortable night's sleep, cop a shower, and it's off to a coffee shop for some breakfast. The place was excellent, think Starbucks but with better coffee and without the pretentious names of drink sizes. So it was the Fennario of Chicago more or less.

11:25am - Hop on the El to Wrigleyville. Chicago's transit system makes Philly look like they are still in the horse and buggy days. Maybe I'm overstating the point, but at very least, I never felt my life was in danger from the potential communicable disease that lurked on any of their modes of transportation. Septa is really a sad organization.

11:55am - We arrive in Wrigleyville. Totally overwhelmed by finally reaching a location of this sports/cultural magnitude, I take the above picture of the street the El stop runs over. One of the transit workers who can clearly tell that I'm out of my element calls me out on taking the dumbest picture ever. This is followed by me cracking up and him giving me and Tom some great pointers to fully enjoy the experience. Everyone in Chicago is super nice. This was a reoccurring theme throughout my exchanges with the locals.

1:06pm - After wandering around Wrigley and taking a sufficient amount of pics, we made our way to our seats. It's important to note that the temperature during my time in the 312 was as inconsistent as my verb tenses in this very blog post. With that in mind, it was a gorgeous 73degrees in the sun and a blustery 18 below in our shaded seats. There were people with blankets and hoodies on, the true veterans attendees of the historic ballpark. We were literally in the top row of the place, but the view was still great and we watched the first few innings in our nosebleeds before finding a new spots to watch the remainder of the game from.

4:22pm - Postgame, we head out to get a first hand look at Chicago's version of Mardi Gras, which happens before, during and after every Cubbies home game. After peeking in a few places we walked down a few blocks to catch the El back. A much quieter, laid back pub caught our eyes as we walked, so we decided to make one last stop before saying goodbye to Wrigleyville. After playing a few games of pool with some locals on a crooked table, we were ready to leave, just had to take a quick leak. The problem was, two St.Louis Cardinals fans thought it would be super classy to consummate their love/beastly urges in a public bathroom, so we debated whether it was worth it to venture in at all. Bottom line we came to: they didn't own the bathroom, and any awkwardness we felt as we beelined it to and from the urinal was surpassed by our desire to make them feel they were not, in fact, entitled to that space. On that note, let's exit Wrigleyville.

7:25pm - Grabbed some much needed grub in the form of a Chi-town hot dog and polish sausage combo. Both incredible, although I definitely understood the special appeal of the deep dish far more than the dog. I'm just coming to the realization that the majority of the weekend was spent heavily immersed in food and sports, surrounded by good company. It's really no wonder it was such a fantastic weekend.

9:04pm - After spending the entire day out, and anticipating a packed day and night on Saturday, we made the executive decision to stay in. I got to know the roomates a bit more and a few other Philly transplants we knew stopped in to visit and have a cold one with us. Great times for sure, as we physically and mentally prepared ourselves for the main event on Saturday night...

Dat Boy Trippin (to Chicago and China)

If you know me, you know I don't travel often. I hate flying, and would rather take my car to any destination, regardless of distance. In the past I've been totally content to spend my free time locally doing the usual, because it's in my comfort zone and just generally enjoyable. This summer however, I somehow became the stereotypical college graduate who travels a ton after receiving their diploma. I plan to diary/review both trips in my blog, although I'll be honest, who really knows if that will happen...

Tomorrow, I'm riding Southwest to the Midwest, and a week from Friday I go across the world to China via Air Canada. I mention this not only because it's uncharacteristic of me but also because I will clearly have 15 people who are totally oblivious to where I am, and since the world runs through cellphones and facebook, two things I will not be using in China, this may be my only means of letting people know where I'm at. I will be posting pictures in the aforementioned diaries so I can bore everyone with my journeys' happenings.

Okay, I must get to some sort of point in this post and mention a few things happen when I'm about to leave for a trip:

1) I overthink everything. Not that I don't do that in many other parts of life also, but it's extremely noticeable when I'm in packing mode. Every electronic item has to have 8 chargers or sets of backup batteries. I pack my clothes as if there will be mudstorms everyday and as if every meal out could turn my entire outfit into a bib (are straight guys allowed to say "outfit"? It felt really unnatural to type it)...in other words, I plan for the worst case scenario, even though it never happens.
2) I get really excited when I'm packing and I get up and pace aimlessly around. The actual process of me packing what I need to takes 20-30 minutes tops but it happens over a 3-hour span because I get so giddy I can't focus. This blog is actually being typed as my open suitcase lies unfilled and my to-do list remains incomplete.
3) I convince myself I'm not going to worry about my fantasy sports teams, but ultimately text a friend with my login info so they can monitor them like a pet I'm leaving behind. Wow, that is especially humiliating to admit in this context...I need a life. Maybe I will discover one in Chicago or China.
4) I start attempting to estimate how much the trip will cost me in total, not because I'm concerned about it, but because it's just another mental technique to procrastinate while I'm packing.
5) I debate on what Philly sports apparel I'm going floss while I'm in whatever foreign land it is I am venturing to.

In unrelated news, I am pretty excited for Memorial Day barbecues, one with H-town and one with peeps from work. I have not had the chance with my busy schedule to hang with my coworkers at all, and will certainly relish the opportunity. They are incredibly fun to be around in work, so you can bet I'm excited to see them during some chill hours. Memorial Day is an extremely underrated holiday because you simply can not overstate the importance of any holiday that officially kicks off the summer.

Small Price to Pay

As far as the realm of sports goes, there are 2 kinds of people in this world. There are fans and there is everyone else. A fan is different than a casual observer in many ways, but the only distinction that ultimately matters is what I'll refer to as the "it's just a game" factor. Any person who has ever uttered the words "it's just a game" is not a true fan of either team in the game. When a team is on the cusp of doing something very special, the stakes are raised and it becomes even more of a life and death situation. Look, I'm a Christian, and obviously believe that the actual results of sporting events are irrelevant when looking through an eternal lens. Are there more important things in life? Of course. Also, I could (but will not) easily dive into the reasons why a sports team winning or losing have real significance in a culture. Those things aside, however, as long as I'm on the earth and make a hobby out of being a sports nerd, I will be completely an utterly insulted when someone says, "it's just a game". But let me get to the point of this...

Shoes with a Monopoly money theme...Just kidding, although those bad boys are pretty wild. I posted the picture below because it came up when i was google imaging money-related things, and I was entranced by it. I sometimes am drawn to eccentric styles, but 99% of the time would never actually rock the gear I stalk online.



The reason I was googling money was because I am about to spend a large amount of it this weekend. I planned a trip to see my man TommyBoy a few months ago, and have been chomping at the bit for Memorial day weekend to arrive ever since. Tom's place of employment is lodging me and providing the majority of meals I will have there. It's going to be a great time, one that originally looked very inexpensive also. But fate would have it differently, and as I already stated my wallet is going to end up being much lighter after this weekend...

The Flyers stumbled into the playoffs, got some favorable matchups, and more importantly began playing up to the level they were capable of. They made history and came back from a 3-0 deficit in a best-of-seven series and another 3-0 deficit in the clinching game to reach the Conference Finals. After Chicago dominated their own Conference Final Series, we took care of business and finished off Montreal in 5 games. Because both series ended quickly the Stanley Cup Finals are set to begin in the Windy City on Saturday. What do you think the probability was of Philly making the Finals, drawing the Blackhawks from the West, and playing the opening game of the series in what might be the only 3-day period for the rest of my life I visit Chicago? If you answered, "Holy crap, I have as good a chance of winning the lottery as that actually happening" you would be on the money.

So there I am post game, watching the Stanley Cup Finals Schedule flash onscreen as my trip to visit my Philly-transplant homie approaches. It dawns on me in that moment that I just can not miss going to the first game of the finals under any circumstances. It's just too huge of a chance to pass up, and too many things fell into place for me to not buy a ticket to the United Center for Saturday. And there's no getting around it: I'm going to have to shell out some major bucks to make it happen.

Now Tom and I both work with kids, because we are just that altruistic hah. But seriously, we both love what we do, and share the joys of our fields and the down points equally. One down point is that we are not compensated in the financial department as much as an individual would like to be. It's not a big deal because, well...mo' money, mo' problems. It does, however, make it difficult to buy tickets to a Pro Sports Championship game. Buying tickets when a few hundred bucks could be made back in a day of work is a very different thing than buying tickets when that same amount takes much longer to recoup.

Don't get me wrong though, my point is not to cry about how much the tickets are or how little we make. I can't state that enough. If the Fly guys get smoked in game 1, of course I'll be superbly bummed, but it's totally worth the price of admission to be there just because the possibility exists that it could be the sports experience of a lifetime. The point is that fans invest a lot in their teams, and in a variety of different ways. Being a Philly sports fan, I feel I have a penance to pay to our hockey team for doubting them at junctures throughout the season. Shelling out a large amount of dinero for the opportunity to be verbally molested by Blackhawks fans in Standing Room is an honor I don't take lightly. And, far more importantly, I feel that the question of whether there should be two more bodies covered in orange and black in enemy territory shouldn't be a question at all, regardless of the investment it takes to make it happen.



I got a text from Tom this afternoon concerning our decision to take the leap for one of our sports teams:

"When we are 80 years old we can talk about how we saw the Flyers play the Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup in Chicago during Philly's famous Cinderella season."

Some opportunities you just can't put a price on.

Big Boy Shots

Today I had to go into the doctor's office for a tetanus shot. I had to go into the chiropractor beforehand because I messed up my back at work last week, giving me multiple doc appointments in one day. Needless to say, I feel like I'm getting old already. Ya know what makes me not feel old though? Getting called out by the nurse as she flips through a pile of paperwork on me: "I'm sorry, It'll just be a second. I can tell you are really nervous about this."



Was she right about this? Of course she was. The whole process of sticking needles in flesh totally skeeves me out. It's always bothered me. When I was a tot, I'd rather fall down a flight of stairs that were on fire than get a shot. Then I grew up and watched "Requiem for a Dream," taking my needle disgust to another level. (If you have seen the movie, no explanation is needed) I don't think that shots are even remotely painful, I just hate the process of needle insertion. So much so, if fact, that when I got multiple needles during allergy tests last year, the doc had to stop because I "looked pale like I was going to pass out." When I'm looking paler than usual, there is clearly a problem.

So anyway, the nurse eventually gave me the shot, which of course took 1.3 seconds and went as easily as a shot should. As if I hadn't already raised questions about my age through my (apparently) unavoidable anxiety concerning the procedure, I decided to open my mouth. "Is it over?" I asked hesitantly. "It's all over!" she replied in a manner that led me to believe she was going to follow up the shot with a ninja turtle band aid and a high five. "Is it over?" Of course it's over Ryan you idiot, it's a shot not an appendectomy. Now get up and walk out before she changes her mind and decides to give you another.

Resolutions Update

So it's common practice to make a New Years Resolution, and I decided to kick off a less than impressive blog-year by making a few of my own. As commonly as resolutions are made, however, they are rarely followed up on. People don't want to make a promise to get fit in January, then openly admit a few months later that they actually put on some LBs. The bottom line is that keeping people up to date on one's shortcomings is a great way to monitor both shrinking in the waistline department and growth in the character one. So hear we go, with one third of the year already ancient history, I'm going to do a little status check on my resolutions...


Resolution: GRADUATE!!!
Status: Check baby!!! I finally did it and could not be happier. It was the number 1 resolution on my list, and I can say that it was achieved. To give you some perspective on what a historic accomplishment this was, and more specifically how long it took, When my college career began:
--George Bush was the President
--Army Fatigues had successfully made a comeback (and I swear I brought them back, for better or for worse)
--My Sister couldn't legally drink, heck she could barely get into a rated R movie
--I had never worked with a disabled person in any capacity, and as a matter of fact, had worked one job for my entire life.
--I weighed in the 180 range
--I did not have a facebook account, and not because I knew facebook was evil, but because I was not aware of its existence
--"Oops I Did it Again" by Britney Spears topped the charts...well maybe not, but I'm sure that Britney was still somewhat relevant
--I had not seen a Philadelphia Sports Championship in my lifetime. Wow...I will give you a second to let that sink in...

My sister and I rag on each other about pretty much everything, so naturally she's a pro at taking shots at my inability to graduate before her. Keeping in mind that we are both fielding congratulations on our respective collegiate achievements, one of the funniest things that happens now is how we get congratulated. She noted that the people are so pleasantly surprised that I actually finished that I get louder remarks, bigger smiles, and overall greater vigor from people complementing me on my accomplishment than she does. So its, "Congrats Kirsten, great job!" followed by something like, "I am sooo proud of you Ryan!! I knew you would eventually make it! You have a bright future ahead you just had to get past this big bump in the road!! We are so inspired by your perseverance!!!" It is high comedy, let me tell you.

The previous paragraph reminds me, I forgot to include something in my "Goodbye Temple" blog. Many, many, many thanks to all the lovely people who helped me along the tumultuous road to the finish line. The amount of love that I have felt recently has been incredible, but more on that soon in an upcoming blog.


Resolution: I am fully resolved to take a flight out to Chicago to visit Tommy Boy, and catch a game at historic Wrigley Field.
Status: 10 days till my Southwest flight leaves Philly for the Windy City! I bought my Cubbies tickets and could not possibly be more pumped up for the game and for the trip in general. I told Tommy Boy that it would totally happen, and it certainly is.

Resolution: Mas blogos por favor!
Status: Okay, the ball was dropped on this one, there's just no getting around it. In my defense, this resolution was very low on the priority list, and I should be able to step up my blogging game a bit since college is officially a thing of the past. Although I do fear the loss of my job at the Computer Lab (with my Temple departure) will hurt my output during certain months of the year. Still, onward and upward as far as posting the irrelevant details of my life goes.

Resolution: I will have a six-pack by summer.
Status: Definitely a "fail" to this point. While I did find times to regularly work out during the majority of the school year, my eating habits towards the end of the semester were awful, and the importance of getting in perfect shape was put in perspective by a multitude of other far more significant things. I will always be a fit dude, but looking like a cover model for Men's Health isn't an aspiration that I will ever hold. It's great to be healthy, but there's line between doing something for health and doing something for vanity, and if I'm being totally honest, it gets blurred for me. That probably sounds like a total copout for "I just got lazy and didn't make it happen" but either way I think it holds truth. I still have to get off my keester and get back into running mode, as that improves my quality of life across the board.

Totally random side note and true story: My dad just walked into my room, laid down on the floor to hang out with me and chat for a bit, and after 3-5 minutes of talking fell sound asleep. As I type this, he is out like a light with his head partially underneath a stool. This situation could not describe him better in a nutshell.

Resolution: I want to complete all my unfinished original works, write a few more, and freestyle at least 2 times with random groups of brothas.
Status: This one is far from complete, but I will say that the future is bright as far as these things go, and I think I will be able to get an "A" in regards to this resolution by year's end. I work with a handful of guys who can spit some, and with many more who can appreciate good raw (and white) talent. I am excited at the prospect of some summer barbeques to showcase my Eminem-like whiteboy skill set...On the musical side of things, this semester killed most of my guitar time, and I was not able to do much with my written work. That said, I feel confident that my lyrical lows are behind me (embodied by one unfortunate song in particular) and summer will bring a renewed dedication to my "Making-the-acoustic-guitar-not-a-lame-chick-attracting-gimmick" mission.

Resolution: I will be a man and approach/get digits of a dame that I'm digging.
Status: While I did succeed in this a few times, my perspective changed totally on this. A few less-than-impressive additions to my dating résumé made me realize that when it comes to approaching women when I'm out with friends, less is more. And by "less is more," I mean never is more. My interest in drawing the attention of females is at an all-time low. Okay, that's definitely overstating the point, but let me explain. I'm trying to avoid situations where I will either waste money on taking a loser out on a date, or become smitten over a girl who I know ultimately has no shot at being the future Mrs.Lewis. There's no point in leading someone on or in tricking myself into thinking that any sort of casual romantic relationship is a good idea. "Casual" is a word that only has positive connotations when it refers to an outfit choice. The most important things in life require passion, commitment and dedication, all words that can not correspond with casual. Back to my point: sweating the process of finding a love interest is not worth it, even though inevitably everyone does it, or has done it, at some point or another. If I have confidence in myself, remain somewhat social, and trust God's plan for my life,

Resolution: Find a home church.
Status: I think when I wrote my resolutions I was losing sight of what really mattered as far as church went: Just being there consistently. Not attending church on a reg is a very bad idea if you claim to follow Christ. There are a million reasons to not go to church, and I think I've used just about every one at some point in varying moments of spiritual laziness. It comes down to to the fact that Christians need to regularly be in worship and fellowship with other believers to strengthen their own faith, and to have some sense of accountability. You're not a Christian because you go to church, but you do go to church because you're a Christian, as corny as that may sound. The church I grew up in is by no means perfect, and may not even be the right church for me long term, but right now it is my home church, and it's where I'm supposed to be.

Resolution: Survive Desmond till June.
Status: Next to graduating, I am most proud of this accomplishment. I was very close to ditching this gig and finding another, and it was only by God's grace that I remained with Dezzy. Sticking through the rough start proved to be totally worth it, as Des is a reformed youngster nowadays, and though he still has some bad moments here and there, the transformation in his personality has made him unrecognizable to a lot of people. I'm at the point now where I actually want to stay with him longer than I'm actually able to. The kid finds ways to crack me up on a daily basis, and the staff that I work with is a cast of characters that I've grown extremely fond of over the past 4 months. My work day goes approximately 425 times faster than the average person's, and as I've mentioned already in passing, there's always something new to laugh about. I really have to bust out a "Ways you know you have a great/awful job" blog because I feel I have infinite wisdom on the subject at this point in my life.

Resolution: Play one game of beer pong with V-Dub Wright.
Status: Plenty of time left to get this one accomplished and bring our career record to 2-0. I did not have a picture of Val rocking a random pair of sunglasses she found as I did with Desmond, but you can be sure if I did have one, it would be the perfect end to this blog post.



Problem Solved. Good day friends!