The Day I slept Past Noon....

Today was perhaps the first time in nearly nine months I have slept past the noon hour. Needless to say it was. Amazing. Tossed the covers off my sweat soaked body and sat up slowly in my bed. I looked around groggily, wondering where the fuck I was. Not because I was hungover or had recently been hit over the head with a 2 by 4, but because it was so FUCKING muggy!! Seriously, even as I became conscious of my body and the matter surrounding it I was lost. Don't get me wrong, I love the spring time in Minnesota, but JesusFuckingChrist. I was asleep, not moving, yet I was drenched as though I had run a minute mile.

Needless to say it took me a little while to adjust to our current weather.

After showering and putting on a few items of clothing as possible, meandered down stairs to have lunch with my mother and father. They were grilling burgers, yippee!! They wanted to eat it on the back patio...... eff no, thanks though. I ate on the couch by myself in front of the newly returned window unit I know and love so dearly.

I spent thirty minutes trying to find the FAFSA forms online for the 2010-2011 school year, only to realize it was right in front of me. A+ for smartness!!

I realized how much I appreciate the people I have in my life. Whenever I am feeling down and out, or shitty in general, they come along to pick me up and carry me if need be. Had I not found this herd I would have remained disparaged, ornery, lonesome, wet in the brain, and hollow in my chest. I now have a head full of recovery, and a stomach free of poison. What can I do with it? Help others!

I decided not to long ago that there was no reason to remain at SPC and transferred to Metro State to get my B.S. in Alcohol and Drug Counseling. Not that I can really promote the fellowship/program in that field directly, but it is the kind of work I know I can remain passionate about. Isn't that the point of work and having a career? To find something you are passionate about and run as far as you can?

Who knows what life has in store for me! I certainly don't.

If I had had my way, I wouldn't be here right now.

Let go

&

Let God/HP/Whatever.

Exploding Inside!

So. I dropped the ball big time this semester. So far three C's and an F.

Really?! An F in an art class. Where all I had to do was go to different locations and write about them. The teacher seemed to like what I wrote. I missed maybe 5 of the 15 site visits, and getting at least a B on the ones that I did turn in. I don't get it.

I made a faux-pa by e-mailing her the wrong essay with a different story concerning an extension I had on one... both stories were true, I just got caught up in the rush of finals and the plethora of papers I had to complete.

But, I am over it. I have decided for sure a direction in my life.

I am transferring to Metropolitan State University to pursue my Bachelor's Degree in Alcohol and Drug Counseling! I have known for a while that this is what I wanted to do with my life. After looking at my credits earned at SPC, I realized that because I had completed almost all of the transfer curriculum, and they did not offer my intended major of A&D Counseling, there was little point in my staying there for any longer. After my summer math class I am done there, and ready to move on. All I need is a few humanities credits (due to the bomb I dropped this semester).

I suddenly became very unmotivated to Blog about anything, for the moment.

Keep coming back, I just might say something worth hearing!!

Give me a Minute to Win It!

So I just sent an email in to NBC stating my interest in being on their new show "Minute To Win It". I have never wanted anything so bad in my life, I would totally KILL that shit. Freddy started this new thing thursday nights at Cosmics where you can win a free drink by completing one of the Minute To Win It tasks. Needless to say I was not able to complete the task... but it was a lot harder than the ones on the TV show usually are! You had to blow all but one playing card off the top of a root beer bottle in less than sixty seconds. Harder than it sounds.

I totally spaced tonight and when I got off work at two I went home to take a nap. I ended up waking up at 8:30 instead of around six to go to Claire's for dinner. I felt terrible!! I am going to have to make it up to her BIGTIME!!

Ended up stopping by Grace Moran's house for a short visit, saw some people I have not seen in a long time, it was fantastic!

I started listening to RadioLab's podcasts because my coffee bud Laura said they were awesome. Right now I am listening to their episode on Mortality, and vegetative states, and the development of how we determine death. You know, how it used to be by breath, the heart beating, and now brain function. I guess there are "11 Meditations On Death" that they are talking about. I just got done listening to them interview a man who jumped off a bridge, probably the golden gate. How he woke up that day and knew it was just the thing to do; he knew that he was going to die today and it was okay. He was on the bridge, holding the railing, about to jump. And as soon as he saw his hands let go of the railing he thought "Oh no. This was a mistake! Someone help me." But there was nothing he could do - he just dropped and hit the water. He survived (obviously), but what an experience! They also talked about this lady who went to see a neural psychologist, and at first seemed fine. But she eventually started talking about how she didn't think things were real. She then asked him "Am I dead?" And really. When you die, do you realize it? I mean. How would you know if you are dead or not?

Deep Thoughts. Everybody listen to Radio Lab.

"Now, a consequence of this cosmic scheme is going to surprise you. When you die you are grieved by all the atoms of which you are composed. Well. I mean they hung together for years whether in sheets of skin or communities of spleen, but after your death they don't die. Instead they part ways, moving off in their separate directions; mourning the loss of a special time they shared together. Actually haunted that they were once playing a part in something... larger than themselves. Something that had it's own life. Something that uhm... uh... that they can hardly put a finger on."

-David Eagleman from his book "Sum".

Don't stop believin', folks.

When The End Is In Sight

There really is nothing like the end of a semester. It is especially sweet when it is the end of your first year of college. I am sure that I had it much easier at a community college than those who chose to go to a university, but you will be sorry when you are much more in debt than me!! After tomorrow night when I turn in my last art paper I will be free until the first if the month. That is when my summer math class starts (groan). Math is probably one of the few things that can make me shake with rage and frustration. I don't like to be wrong, and I don't like to not know why I am wrong.

This reminds me: I wanted to punch my Composition teacher in the throat today. Why? Because she is a short, snide, macabre, sorry excuse for an instructor. Not only did we reading severely depressing stories for the first three weeks of class, but she would be so HAPPY about what went on in the stories! Stories about death, loneliness, isolation, and everything else that comes from beyond the dark side of the moon, she would find so enjoyable. Not that I can't appreciate good literature. But these stories were not even well written! Poorly synthesized and just all around weak; trying too hard to be extreme and edgy.

But, that was not really what made me want to assault her. We were supposed to have a rough draft to do a workshop with last week, and I did! But, and I don't know if this is really just my ignorance, apparently she was expecting a finished paper in draft form. I thought we were supposed to have a start on our paper, not a finished piece. And for that, I am receiving half credit on that portion of rubric. I explained my understanding of what she wanted, and that she never specified the length of the draft. All my life I have thought of a rough draft as being nothing more than a rough start to the paper. Maybe it was just me.

Either way, violent thoughts were racing through my head and I could feel my legs starting to twitch, so I said "Cool!" and left with a smile smeared across my face.

SO GLAD I NEVER HAVE TO TAKE AN ENGLISH CLASS AT SPC AGAIN.

Shetbeg.

So tonight I had to compile 15 of my essays from this semester's Art In The Cities online class. I think it goes without saying that I didn't have 15 to compile. I had 9. Which is not bad considering the fact that.... well, considering it's me. But I did get all nine in, AND I commented on the discussion board = mission accomplished.

Today I was driving down the frontage road along I-94 towards DNTWN St. Paul with CJ and Anna when all the sudden I see this navy blue Crown Victoria turn it's lights on and got directly behind my truck. All I could think of for the first five seconds was "Oh my, I should get out of this officer's way so that he can serve and protect!" I thought that until as I moved to the side he moved in sync with me. "SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT. SHIT." That was all I was thinking for the next thirty seconds as I put the truck in park and shut it off. Placing my hands on the wheel I waited patiently with CJ and Anna, muttering about how he couldn't be giving me a ticket, it was my first offense! I had a spotless record! A clean slate.

So the officer gets to my window and asks for license and proof of insurance, which I provide very cheerfully. He says he will return shortly, after informing me he pulled me over because I was going 44mph in a 30mph area. News to me! I knew I was going above the speed limit, but had no idea it was by 15 mph.

He returns with the news: "So, I could give you a speeding ticket that would cost you $130.00 and let you be on your way. But, this insurance card is expired. I do believe you have insurance, so I tell ya what... I am just going to give a citation for failure to provide failure of insurance, all you have to do is make a photocopy of your valid insurance card and send it in with the citation to the address on this envelope. Have a great day."

Me:"But officer, I think I have a valid thing in my wallet!"

Officer:"Have a nice day, sir."

It was only a few minutes later that I realized what a deal I had been cut!!! Not only do I still have a clear record (provided I go to the court building and show them my valid insurance card), but I now have my first experience with the police out of the way and it went very well!!

Other than that, life is average, which I am okay with. I have my hardest final tomorrow afternoon in Minnesota History, and I am not looking forward to it. It is my hardest class when it comes to quizzes and tests, and each time I do not do all that well. But I know that if I expect to do any good at all I have to go in with a positive attitude and maybe actually prepare a little bit. I am going to listen to his podcasts on the topics we will be covering, which include: 1968 and other political happenings in Minnesota including Walter Mondale, H.H. Humphrey.

Basically I have my work cut out for me tomorrow morning when I cram.

By the way Betch, FUCK YOU!!! -Shoes.

Well, here we go again. The cycle is starting again. We have fun, things seem good, then no more texts or calls or contact what-so-ever. AKA Rejection.

It isn't that I feel like I am this amazing guy and it is ridiculous for anyone not to want to hang out with me. Believe, I am not that delusional/conceded. But really, at least say something. I am really aggravated that things never go my way. And by never of course I mean whenever I really really really want something regardless of it's consequences/outcome. And when I say I am aggravated I mean not praying enough or thinking of myself non-stop. What, you expect me to spend my free time trying to find YOU some tail/relationship? as if.

All I really wanted tonight was to go to the 90's. I don't care with whom I went, because hopefully I would find someone else to dance with, and if there are more of us then no one is left alone. I feel like a creep just going down there alone. Seems too much like I am cruising... which I am not, I just wanted to be social. But as it would turn out, the one weekend I am free enough to go to the 90's, everyone is occupied. Buuuullshiiiiiit.

So. Having reflected on what was just going through my head, and re-reading what I have just typed, I realize that there is no way all these happenings are the Universe attacking me and making my life miserable, and that it is nothing more than me sinking back into a terrible habit of self will run riot, and selfish/self seeking motives ruling over my (for the most part) rational thoughts.

First of all: If I know the Universe (and I do), he would never just do that to someone - intentionally make there life aggravating. The aggravation is purely my own doing.

Second: If I could take two steps back and assess what is REALLY going on with my mood, I just might be able to clear my head enough to be of some usefulness to someone else.

In other words. I have just had a change in perspective. I believe this would also be the workings of the promises in my life. This is a situation that not only used to baffle me, but obviously still does... and I was able to handle it in a rather reasonable manner.

That is, if we are forgetting about the moments that I was stomping my feet and whining like a child (all to go to a gay bar).

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

I Just Wanna DANCE

So tonight is saturday night... the first saturday night in recent memory that I have not had extreme amounts of homework to complete, meaning tonight... we DANCE!!!

First Ave. TML, dark lighting, sweaty bodies, awkward arm flailing: the best a man can get short of a lap dance from John Goodman (which I really hope happens someday). I have been wanting to get out and dance for so long! There are three days left of the spring semester, three more finals one of which is a Analytical Poetry Research Paper due wednesday that I have 1.5 paragraphs thus far.

My grandma is in town this weekend for Mother's Day, and it makes me REALLY happy to see her. I hand't seen her since Easter, and it worries me that she is in her house all by herself. Granted, she does have neighbors that are also widows and they check up on each other. It would make me feel better if she just moved down to the cities. I can't see her doing that though, having lived in the country all her life. And I would rather have her spend what is left of her life living independently and in a location she loves, than anything/anywhere else.

I turned in that paper that was due monday or tuesday (I can't even remember anymore, sad) with only a page and a half done explaining that with everything that was going on I had hit a road block. I am fine with what I did get done and I am ready to accept whatever grade comes through in the end. Hopefully it is something better than a FAILING grade.

ALSO! I got home from work yesterday and at home I saw a little makeshift book/binder with my Grandpa Max's ancestry, and get this... the shit goes back 17 GENERATIONS. The last date of birth they have for someone in it is 1360. I am apparently a little bit French too. It is SO cool learning about your old distant existence.

Job is tolerable. Family is good. Life is moving forward.

A Change In Perspective?

So I thought I would mess around, push some buttons, do a little this a little that. Basically this is a test post, and if it works out it will remain up.

I have still not finished that paper that was due on Tuesday. I decided it was very unspiritual and not quite fulfilling my signed "academic integrity policy" agreement sheet if I completely made stuff up about someone's life. The bright side: I learned by trial and error how to site a paper using Chicago Style. I am actually enjoying using MLA these days, just because it is SO much easier than all the others. After four years in high school and a semester in college I am finally getting it!!!

Even though I am probably going to receive a terrible grade on this paper and potentially fail the class, I am at ease. But as I say that I start to panic a little bit. Waste of money. Waste of TIME. Energy. Everything I am lacking excess of, basically.
But I for SURE have enough time to stumbleupon.
ENJOI

Beach Art http://su.pr/2xVd84

I Few Tid Bits From My Day So Far......

So I was up very late last night (or should I say this morning?) after remembering that this morning was my Minnesota Geography final - a week earlier than all my other classes. I spent most the my time before that realization sitting in a rut trying to write/B.S. a paper that I already had a one week extension on. Needless to say the paper did not get finished. The page requirement was 5-6 pages, so I was aiming for four. At quarter to midnight I had one and a half pages and decided if I could just get to three, that would be satisfactory, eh? Then I decided if I am not even going to TRY and be near the page requirement, why turn it in on time?

My attention then shifted to my Composition research/analytical paper that I had to have a draft of by class time today. I was just starting, but have had half of the semester to prepare for it. I am now sitting in the hall at school sweating like a boy being approached by his junior high crush - wondering why. why. WHY. I always put myself in this position. I wait until the last minute to get things done, which causes me to rush on them when I finally do start on them.

Things always work out fairly well, but I am left now wondering what my full potential is, or could be if I was an organized, responsible, dedicated student. I know I can get A's and B's without cheating, and get them doing what I do now. But WHAT IF. What if I just sat down every night and actually did something constructive? I wouldn't be missing anything important - my life revolves around a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, energy drinks, and facebook. Not that I hate my life and I am saying things suck, but there is SO MUCH MORE OUT THERE.

I look around and see people who spent 20 years in the bottle, just getting better and turning their life around. I have a chance at life that they missed out on when they were younger. I am completely and UTTERLY blessed to have been extended the hand of the fellowship........

I might write more later, but I realised I just spent another twenty minutes writing about how I procrastinate on school work. But it just struck me: is everything I am typing right now always running through my head?? No wonder I get nothing done...

I think too much.

Sharon Olds - First Thanksgiving

Ryan Has A Blog??

This is the first (of hopefully many) blog entries that I am assuming will interest at least one single person somewhere on the World Wide Web.

I may be young, and there is a plethora of things that I can hardly wrap my developing brain around, but I have also had a rather unique experience regarding life, death, and everything that goes along with it. You see, I am an addict and an alcoholic. I am in recovery, and work a 12 step program that has made my life worth living (which is a rather drastic change from how I felt BEFORE my introduction to the program). This was my first change in perspective; a spiritual experience, if you please.

Not to be too bitter, but I don't care if you disagree with the things I have to say nor do I care whether you believe I am going to hell or not. I realized not too long ago that I am not here to be judged by you, or anyone for that matter. I am here to go throughout my days striving to do the next right thing, and to help my fellows. I am here by the grace of God (or Allah, Adonai, Jehovah, Buddha, Mother Nature, etc.), and do not want to waste one more day trying to play the role of director for a production that would otherwise be filled with beauty and joy.

As the week begins, we bury my grandfather, Maximilian Sporer Jr., who was one of the men I respect most in this world. He was born in 1924 to Belgian immigrants and named Roy De Buck. His father was a bootlegger who, later, ended up getting caught and sent to jail. My grandfather's mother was unable to care for the children on her own during the Great Depression, and sent them to an orphanage in Owatonna. He was later adopted by Maximilian Sporer Sr. and his wife; it was from that moment that his life took a turn for the better. He went on to serve in World War II shooting down Nazi planes, and was on the beaches of Normandy, France on D-Day. When he returned home he married Mary Springer (my grandmother), and went to St. Thomas Academy, getting a degree in English, and physical education. Max and Mary had five children, the youngest being my father Jon.

Throughout his life he had many great accomplishments, and he had an actual impact on many people's lives. Not only was he my hero, but he was a hero for his country. It makes me so sad to know that when he died I had not spoken to him for almost five months. He had lived in Pensacola, Florida with his companion Geraldine Conniff, who I am eternally grateful to have in my life. Geri made the final years of my grandfather FUN, he was always laughing and telling (semi)offensive jokes, just like he always had. He was always happy to see his children, or grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He will be missed greatly.

Now, I could spend weeks wallowing and grieving over his death, OR I could accept life exactly how it is: short, sweet, and unpredictable. I can enjoy the time I have here, right now.

Acceptance is the answer to all my problems.

I used to be an ornery, depressed, drunken druggie. I cared about no one but myself and my next fix/hit/drink. Since getting sober, I have a new outlook on life, a new appreciation for family and friends, and a disposition that some say is infectious. It is no thanks to me, but to my fellowship and my family/friends that have not given up on me.

This was all my first large change in perspective.