Getting to Know Me

They used to do this on social media years back. I don't know why but I thought they were fun back then; maybe because I didn't know myself all that well.


• Favorite smell: Concrete after Rain
• Last time you cried: Watching Logan.
• Favorite pizza: Chicken, Spinach and Pineapple (yes I said Pineapple)
• Favorite Flower: Roses I guess
• Favorite dog breed: Catahoula (Leopard Dog)
• Favorite foot attire: Anything comfortable
• Roller Coaster: Yes.
• Hair color: Black
• Favorite ice cream: Cookies and Cream
• Pet peeve: Morons. All shapes, all forms, all colors.
• Shorts or jeans: Jeans
• What are you listening to right now: New Rules with Bill Maher
• Color of your car: Green
• Color of eyes: Dark Brown
• Favorite Holiday: Xmas.
• Night owl or morning: Night Owl
•Favorite day of the week: Any day I can sleep in.
• Nickname: Dean
• Favorite type of music: Hip hop, Raggae, Hard Rock, Jazz
• Tattoos: No
• Do you like to cook? Only when I have to.
• Beer or wine? Vodka
• Can you drive a manual shift? Yes
• Do you wear perfume? No
• Favorite color? Blue (formerly Red)
• Do you like vegetables? Yes
• Do you work out? As often as I can
• Do you wear glasses? Yes...
• Favorite season: Winter.
•Favorite Movie of All Time: TMNT ‘

First Hug (So Happy to See You)

Just a quick note: I haven't been blogging in good minute.  Starting to wonder why I do it anymore. There's no money in it for me and it's definitely not for readers (Though I am thankful for all two of you!! 😁).  I guess I just like writing.  I'm cool with that.  Anyway, this is my first offering in a good long while so if anyone reads this, try not to be too harsh.  Just because don't necessarily believe in romantic love anymore doesn't mean I don't get inspired by it.  Enjoy!

The First Hug

I hugged you. Boldly and Happily, I wrapped your soft frail frame in my arms and squeezed.

For the first time since meeting you, since you nearly cried you heart out over who-knows-what, I hugged you.

Still loving you from a distance, for a half an instant my walls eroded and I was so happy to see you I nearly crushed the life from you. You, a soft white rose who spoke with a voice of snowfall, and me, so tempted to hold fast and offer warmth in that cold, cold store.

These are the moments where I almost wish there was a god, a thing to whisper to in the hope of that look, that breath, that embrace lasting just a bit little longer, and longer still. You were the water for my parched heart and I drank in every inch of you-- all straw-colored hair and pale blue eyes, crow’s feet and laugh lines and thin pink lips.

Before I knew it the wall was back and I pulled my smiling mask back on, choking off my heart for my own damn good, like any good masochist.

I was so happy to see you I cried.

--Ryan Scales

REVISITING FOND MEMORIES

Graduation is rolling around at Wingate University.  I'm sure the buzz on campus is crazy; it always is.  I saw a tweet about this being the last week of classes and it brought back A LOT of memories of my last year there.  So much happened, so much fun was had and so much things accomplished.  Lately I've been traipsing down memory lane remembering how good life was before this whole adult thing happened.  Here's a look at senior week at the WU through the eyes of yours truly...

From the Journal of Ryan Scales April 28, 2009: 

Talk about creating memories…for the past four days I’ve been on a tear doing just that. It started off Friday with a party at JCSU. I was so proud of to see my Sigma sons party hop, even prouder to be alongside them.

Saturday was BIG. It was the party we planned 2009; post-pone because the deuce had a soccer game. Some of our bros. came down and we tore the house down. I sprained my foot party-hopping. Afterward we sat outside with frat joking and laughing and learning history. It was good.
Sunday was the apex, the crescendo of this weekend of awesomeness, a concert by this corny band called Sister Hazel. The fun started around six when after meeting up with Jen, Chauncey and Zeke in the Klondike, we all took it to the balcony on Jen’s floor and during the hours before the main show, we were cuttin’ fool along with the rest of Wingate.

There were a few guys who were nice and wasted and they were directly across from us. My neos and I party-hopped and battled with them from across the quad! That was pretty fun, but the topper was this dude in blue shorts who was straight clownin’! He was so gone (I’m not gonna call’im out!), I almost died laughing!!! I wonder if anyone got pictures.

When the concert started I didn’t have clue what these songs were, I just went with the vibe, which was damn good. Eventually members of international club joined us (Tes, Marlene, and Carina) and we wall jammed and spazzed out on the balcony for the first half of the show. Soon after we all made our way down into the crowd and continued with the good times! We watched people get crowd surfed including Tes, Jen, Willie and Cory (heard about the dive you took homie! Ouch!) A couple of girls got flipped completely (once again, no names!). We even did some crazy ass conga line with a few guys on the tennis team (I think). After we got through the crowd I found Chauncey and Zeke and we all got the party started again. We all got into a party-hop and even a Pi Kap jumped in (GREEK UNITY! WHOO-HOO!) I love that energy man, and I love being part of it!

After the show we went back to Jen’s room and spent the rest of the evening cracking up. My sons and their ‘number wars’ had me dying! Candie even came by. By the end of the night it was me Chauncey, Candie, Jen and her roommate Jyll (I think that’s how you spell it) all going out to Waffle House. Despite the horrible food it was great way to close out the night.


--Ryan Scales, April 28, 2009

A thing I wrote (Should've-Could've-Would've)

Every now and then I’ll have a moment; a breakdown, an outburst (getting triggered as some would call it) or I’ll just find myself in a funk.  When this happens I’m lucky enough to have one or two friends who care enough to say a little bit more than "Pray on it" and are willing to tell me in no uncertain terms “STOP LIVING IN THE PAST!”  I try, but I can’t always get a handle on my thoughts.  More often than not these walks down memory lane aren’t always pleasant, but once in a blue moon I find a few roses to smell along the way, experiences that often make for writing exercises such the one you are about to read.

(For the sake of privacy I’m changing the name of the few people involved)

Wingate University. Fall 2007:

I met Dina on campus a good week before class—that four or five days students have to move their shit in, make sure they’ve got their classes added, dropped, or at least have a portion of their tuition paid.  My friend Drew was giving her the 10 cent tour while I was hurrying along to do whatever was on my to-do list that day.  He introduced me to her as well as two other young women.  As most people tend to do we spent the first few seconds sizing each other up.  Safe to say she was pretty easy on the eyes:  A tall (5’7 to the best of my recollection), willowy, ebon-hued woman sporting deep brown eyes, a mini-fro and a rather dignified gait.  (I admit to having a fondness, hell a weakness for this particular look!)

Classes began soon enough and the first week ended with a movie night in the quad.  All the adjacent dorms were camped out on the lawn to watch a film on a theatre-sized screen, and I got an opportunity to become better acquainted with Dina and her suite mates, a happy-go-lucky Asian girl and a shy but cheerful white girl, both of whom haled from upstate Carolina.  Within a week she had given me a pet name (an inside joke based on a picture I took that same evening).  That should have been my first clue.  The rest of the semester plodded along; I would spend the day on campus, go home to sleep, get up and do the whole thing all over again.  Dina began to express further interest after discovering I lived off campus (albeit with my sister).  We spent a great deal f time picking one another’s brain and I found she was a Linkin Park fan much to my elation. She even let me borrow their most recent album at that time for one of my workouts.  I enjoyed passing the time with her and it showed plain as day.

Sometime later (coincidently after the death of a family member) she proved to be a source of comfort.  That same day she invited me to a movie; it was a student group activity but in hindsight I probably should have read it better:  She had taken the time to ask me, sit with me, and share the Oreo cookies she had snuck into the theatre with me.  I can’t remember who asked first but at some point we had dinner at Tokyo Bistro and came to find out one of her suite mates (whom I had as also began becoming more acquainted with) was a waitress there.  Throughout the meal and conversation I had been under the impression that we were on a date—WRONG!  As things wound down I was all set to pay her way (a blatant attempt to impress her further) and to my utter shock she pulls up right beside me with her card.  This earned her a SOLID 8 on the crush-o-meter.

By the end of the academic term she had made the decision to transfer to another university.  At some point she opened up about being as attracted to me as I was to her during our time together and all I could do was shrug and feel some pity her being fearful of the opportunity we both missed.  Anyone who knows me knows I’ve never been too keen on marriage, but if given the chance at that time, I’d have surely given this woman my last name.  This is hardly a lovelorn exaggeration, but a statement of sheer fact.

--Ryan, April 2017

So let's rant a little bit...

Journal/Short Story Intro:



When he woke up to the alarm he felt the overall stiffness that the cold always brought. Winter had finally come, he realized, rolling over in his bed with what can only be described as a potent mix of anger and elation; the elation of another day, the anger of knowing how it would be spent. By the time his feet touched the thinly carpeted floor the feeling managed to shrivel into flat-out annoyance. ‘My bones don’t love the cold the way they used to’, he thought to himself. He stretched to his full height, hearing the pop, pop, pop of each vertebra, the loudest in his neck. He grimaced at the sharp pain in his lower back, one of the many unfortunate conditions he attributed to life in the south.

He wasn’t born in this part of the world. He spent much of his early life in the north-east where the weather was fairly balanced along with his body. A bitter dispute with his father had driven him away to what at the time seemed like his only refuge. In the past he would say he was happy for a while, but when he started being honest with himself he realized he had gone from the proverbial frying pan to the shit pile. Many of the residents here, particularly those within and favored by his family were woefully uneducated, disingenuous and quite frankly, horrible people. At the risk of hubris, he began to see himself as better than them, above them, not necessarily in breeding or economics, but certainly in intellect. He was a scholar, the seed of a philosopher taking root and sprouting over time. Where they were content to sit on their hands and place their faith in hucksters, entertainers and well crafted long-enduring bedtime stories, he placed it in himself, his will, and his ability to persevere. Over time it left him angry and saddened but equally determined. No matter how broken was he wasn’t beaten to the point where he couldn’t pick himself up and try again, which was what he was doing now.

He made his way to the kitchen and began the sloppy but practiced ritual of breakfast, dressing, and checking social media before beginning his morning commute. He checked the clock…4:13 am…. As he scrolled down his timeline two things occurred to him. The first: Man wasn’t meant to rise before sun, and secondly, ‘I didn’t think I could feel this much hate before began seeing Donald Trump’s wrinkly cheeto face everywhere.’

Untitled

2016 has been a bit of a shit show in my opinion, not just for me but for humanity in general.  I mean hell, Donald Trump could be president and we lost Prince.  Regardless of all the crazy, there is (and I say this sparingly) a bright side.  One of my (facebook) friends died and you know what?  It hurts.  It hurts pretty damn bad (before you jump to the most fucked up conclusion, please keep reading).

I didn’t know how much I cared about her as a person until I found out she was gone. We weren’t bosom buddies and I can count all the messenger exchanges we’ve had on one hand, but I cried pretty bad when I thought about her girlfriend having to raise their two kids alone or not reading another of her posts and laughing, or being able to comment.  I’ll never see her drawings or paintings again, and it stinks.  For about 6 years now I felt like I was going numb. My dad died, I got over it pretty damn quick, my mom, probably quicker. The person I thought cared the most ducked out on me, no surprise.  Even the unexpected kindness that’s been shown to me recently was taken with a grain of salt, outside of a few genuine moments it just feels like I’ve been going through the motions…but when I heard my friend had taken her own life froze up a bit, I teared up later on.  I actually felt something I couldn’t verbalize, something deep and ugly honest.  I hate that she’s gone. The only good coming out this is that I know I can still feel something.  It’s weird to talk about.  One of those rare instances where I can’t find the right words.

FOR KIM AND LINDSAY

All tears run the same.

Ten feet away or oceans

Apart, I cry too

--Ryan

An Unexpected Vacation.

This past week I had the good fortune of being asked to accompany a support team for a Target store that had been affect by Hurricane Matthews. Three and a half days in beautiful Savannah, Georgia.  It was a quick drive and the co-workers were pretty damn cool. The driver, a young blonde by the name of Lindsay was especially cute, and being the biggest guy on the squad meant I was the lucky schmoe who got to ride shotgun, what with the need for leg room. For the most part is was get up, go to work, comeback; rinse and repeat with catering from one of the local food chains (Zaxby's, Moe's, and a BBQ joint I can't remember).

A few of the roads were closed due to downed trees and flooding and the power outage knocked out several traffic lights so we were forced to drive through the neighborhood to get to the highway. This gave us a pretty good firsthand look at the damage that was done and safe to say it was more than a little depressing to see. As a countermeasure we made plans to see downtown Savannah and sample what the night life had to offer. The city did not disappoint.

Getting us road ready!

Hello Savannah!

Our first stop was Broughton Street where we (since we already had dinner) decided to have dessert. We found a place called Sub Zero that had quite a novelty: The rear section served seafood while the front served freshly made ice cream. We actually stood there and watched them make our ice cream right in front of us a lá teppenyaki.  This was the first time I actually took a picture of my food. I have no regrets.  Afterwards we made our way to River Street where things were buzzing like crazy. You'd never believe they were hit by a hurricane. I love that kind of resiliency. We came across some wonderful art shops with great paintings. I felt like kid in Toys R' Us (Yeah I'm weird like that). There's was even nice little blues joint.  I could have listen to those guitars all night!

SubZero ice cream shop on Broughton Street

River Street's jumpin'!

After heading down to the dock, we watched a ferry boat dock for the night, and a street musician played them in.  He turned out to be a gifted trumpeter and prompted those who stopped to listen to walk along a promenade while he in turn, played a theme song.  The songs ranged from The Smurfs (and thus Lindsay was nicknamed Smurfette for the rest of the trip), to Michael Jackson’s Black or White (I guess me and my co-worker look good together) to the Imperial March from Star Wars’, heralding an old couple leaving the boat.  We spent the next half hour playing guess that tune and naturally I smoked everyone. It was a fun night capped off by yours truly rocking in the van and apparently the young’un in the driver’s seat enjoyed the classics as much as did. 

The next day at work I was stocking the shelves, in this particular case with ice cream and I wound up making the briefest acquaintance with an older woman. She was one those hippy-dippy flower child types wearing a sundress, sporting a flower vine hibiscus tattoo, dried out peppered gray hair and a nice southern twang to go with it.  She saw me stocking the ice cream and pleasantly chided me:"You are just mean, puttin' that ice cream out where ah can see it.”   It turned out she had been without power all week (which meant no fridge, which meant no ice cream). She even joked that she would pay one of her friends $500 if she could store the ice cream in her fridge. I teased back asking “What would you do for a Klondike Bar” 

Had she taken it the wrong way, I would have been reported and probably lost my job. Fortunately I read the body language just right, as evidenced by her cheerily straightforward response of "Well if we both had the time I'd show you".  A younger version of me would be kicking myself for not 'sealing the deal', and while the pursuit and conquest would have been fine way to cap off my visit, that's not what I was there for.  All the same it feels good flirt, to find a little mutual attraction when least expected now and then. (Side note:  Savannah has a really nice mix of women from co-eds to farm girls, to those southern belles—refined and not so refined)

All in all the trip was more fun than thought it was going to be.  I repped my store well, ate some pretty good food and met some cool people.  If you ever get a chance, visit downtown Savannah. The architecture and roadways are like this really sexy blend of Petersburg, VA and Charlotte, NC and while it’s certainly not New Orleans I’d sincerely recommend putting a visit on your bucket list. 

-Ryan Scales, October 2016

Savannah Sunrise!

Bye bye! See you again someday!