Disclaimer: real names of places, people and events may have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

XOXO, R.

 

Anonymous asked
Hi Ryan! Let's say you fell for someone you met on a social medium, what would be your next course of action other than telling?

Well, it never hurts to go in for the kill just try and be straightforward okay perhaps just be friendly and yourself (even though that rarely works for me in Real Life because I usually do something extremely embarrassing like tripping over my own feet or trying to make conversation and blurting something like “Hey! You’re… working out today?" while we are standing around the water cooler in the gym…) and all that stuff.

Okay so before I blather on (because I am basically blushing right now and you know who you are), I think the best course of action would be to play it kind of cool but still interested. Don’t go all creepo like swooping in and asking the person out for coffee in your very first interaction with that person like “HELLO I LIKE YOU VERY MUCH YOU CUTIE PIE CAN I TAKE YOU OUT FOR A ROMANTIC DATE?”; instead make small connecting sort of gestures like “Hey, you play Ace Attorney too? I loved the second game, Franziska rocks!” (and please don’t lie, because that would be way uncool if you are called out on it!). If the person likes you, he or she likes you; if he or she doesn’t, that is fine too. Not all attraction has to be reciprocated, and why put yourself through the misery of liking someone who doesn’t like you back when there are so many other people who would like you?

But that’s no excuse for not trying. Go you!

"Oh my god beeeeeeeeeeetch said whaaaaaaaaaaaat?! Let me see that!"
Secret exploded onto the scene over the weekend with loads of dirty laundry being flung online. Which is fun to kaypo over (“Oh my god I can’t stop hitting refresh!" went the army friend who watched smugly from the sidelines; here’s is a shoutout to you, you smug motherfucker), fun to jump into if you’re into mud slinging yourself ("I’ve got some scores to settle!" said another friend who shall remain anonymous lest some blood be shed) or plain disturbing to the less bloodthirsty ("You know, this might push someone over the edge…" pointed out a very level headed friend).
I thought it was pretty interesting to kaypo over myself, considering I got described variously as a psycho murderer slash suicidal slash anorexic slash fat (how is one a fat anorexic hmm) whatever. Granted, if I was in a less stable place, it would have been pretty upsetting, but I found it all quite amusing to read and screenshot and text to my pals and giggle over. “Hey you guys, I have the personality of a dead cockle!” I snorted over morning coffee.
To all you crazy fans out there (yes, this is firmly tongue in cheek): you know what, I really love the guys who stuck in a good word for me and to the less kind ones, hey, whatever you say don’t affect me but they just might hurt some kid bad. Living your Gossip Girl fantasy out is one thing and having someone like, kill him or herself over some nasty shit you write is another altogether. Stay classy.

"Oh my god beeeeeeeeeeetch said whaaaaaaaaaaaat?! Let me see that!"

Secret exploded onto the scene over the weekend with loads of dirty laundry being flung online. Which is fun to kaypo over (“Oh my god I can’t stop hitting refresh!" went the army friend who watched smugly from the sidelines; here’s is a shoutout to you, you smug motherfucker), fun to jump into if you’re into mud slinging yourself ("I’ve got some scores to settle!" said another friend who shall remain anonymous lest some blood be shed) or plain disturbing to the less bloodthirsty ("You know, this might push someone over the edge…" pointed out a very level headed friend).

I thought it was pretty interesting to kaypo over myself, considering I got described variously as a psycho murderer slash suicidal slash anorexic slash fat (how is one a fat anorexic hmm) whatever. Granted, if I was in a less stable place, it would have been pretty upsetting, but I found it all quite amusing to read and screenshot and text to my pals and giggle over. “Hey you guys, I have the personality of a dead cockle!” I snorted over morning coffee.

To all you crazy fans out there (yes, this is firmly tongue in cheek): you know what, I really love the guys who stuck in a good word for me and to the less kind ones, hey, whatever you say don’t affect me but they just might hurt some kid bad. Living your Gossip Girl fantasy out is one thing and having someone like, kill him or herself over some nasty shit you write is another altogether. Stay classy.

Anonymous asked
In the future, when a potential employer finds your Twitter/Tumblr/Facebook do you ever worry that you may have been too transparent ?

Hi Anon!

I admit that there is quite a huge digital trail I leave behind on the internet that may be hard to erase should I ever need to scrub it out for job hunting or whatever. That said, I would rather adopt an open and honest position with any employers who would wish to hire my services as opposed to like, putting up a fake and whitewashed facade and everything (it would be too psychically draining to keep that cover story up and presenting the perfect persona and stuff and quite frankly, it would be to both my employer and my benefit to simply put all that poop out of the way and direct our combined resources to accomplishing the tasks we agree are most important).

This is not a position that I would advise anyone to take without careful consideration though. Heck, it might even be something I may reconsider in the future before employment depending on the area of work I may find myself employed in. So… yeah.

And you can see my heart beating
Oh, you can see it through my chest.
Said I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving
Know that I must pass this test.
So just pull the trigger…

Russian Roulette
Rihanna

Anonymous asked
Hi Ryan! Are your posts latergrams? I was not sure if you were at Providore a few days ago because I think I saw you and you just posted a picture that you're there.

Hi Anon!

My Instagram posts aren’t usually posted right on the spot (my photography workflow goes like: snap a bajillion photographs with Camera+, pick the nice ones out later when I am on my way home because it isn’t too polite to be poking at my iPhone in the middle of a social event, and do some touching up on them to bring out the nice features in them before finally saving them to my iPhone’s camera roll). I try to not post stuff on the same theme all in a row too; it would be pretty boring seeing like food food food food food or something like that spammed off in rapid succession. So yes, I guess my Instagram feed can pretty much be described as latergrams.

Me: it’s like a really hot evening!Him: yeah.Me: I hope you’ve had your dinner? It’s getting late!Him: soon. You?Me: the biggest ever OMG just might explode and die.Me: and be found in my room with fried chicken beside me.Him: LOL.Me: (sends risky photo)Me: okay going to run it off.Me: if you don’t hear from me again call the police.Me: tell them to look for an insanely hot body in a ditch.Him: ok.
The story of my flirting life. Hashtag forever alone.

Me: it’s like a really hot evening!
Him: yeah.
Me: I hope you’ve had your dinner? It’s getting late!
Him: soon. You?
Me: the biggest ever OMG just might explode and die.
Me: and be found in my room with fried chicken beside me.
Him: LOL.
Me: (sends risky photo)
Me: okay going to run it off.
Me: if you don’t hear from me again call the police.
Me: tell them to look for an insanely hot body in a ditch.
Him: ok.

The story of my flirting life. Hashtag forever alone.

Anonymous asked
Okay I'll try to make this as least creepy as I can? I've been keeping up with your social media outlets for a while and the first time I learnt of your existence, my initial reaction was "This guy. I want to be with this guy". There we go, I've said it.

Thank you for this really sweet note, Anon! I am really, really flattered; I’m more or less your everyday basic klutzy ditz (or would that be ditzy klutz) who is lucky enough to have the chance to interact with all of you guys.

Do say hi! I won’t bite!


Remember the old saying: “Before someone loves you, you must love yourself first.” For that reason, I try to love myself every single day. Believe me, it’s hard to get someone else to love you other than your parents and furry companions. And it’s not because I’m so unlovable. I’m just incredibly judgmental and critical of myself. Coupled with insanely selective standards, falling in love with the right person seems next to impossible. There are no magic love potions to make someone fall in love with you (if there were, they would outsell Viagra) but we can control how we feel about ourselves. The hardest pill to swallow is that there will always be someone prettier, smarter, skinnier, funnier, and taller than you. But once you accept that fact, it gets easier to fall in love with yourself.


There are some nice benefits to dating yourself, too. Going to the movies and never having to share the popcorn. Long walks in the park or strolls down the street at your own pace without having to keep up with Mr. Speedy Gonzalez. No awkward lulls in conversations over meals. No more obligatory reach-ins for the check, no matter whose turn it really is to pay for the date. No need to wait for anyone to show up or find a plausible excuse to end the night. Figuring out what to wear is easy as pie when you can throw on some sweats and a t-shirt without makeup. You’re not a slave to your phone, agonizing about the next time you will hear that sweet ringtone of a text popping up on the screen.


And then there are some not-so-great things when you are single. Bursts of laughter without anyone there makes you look schizo. You open your own doors. Being in the presence of affectionate couples causes extreme nausea and envy. The look on the hostess’ face when you say “just one.” Constant nagging or concern from your mother and/or engaged friends that you are almost 30 and still single. Creating an online dating profile is as stressful as having to take the SATs again. Immense disappointment when that hot tamale doesn’t message you back. The gut-wrenching rejection you face when you think things are going well after the 3rd or 4th date but then you NEVER hear from him again without so little as an explanation or reason.
So what happens when you’ve mastered the art of being alone and self-love? Prince Charming isn’t suddenly going to show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a marriage proposal. The reality is that you’ll probably have many stilted conversations, awkward dates, sloppy make-out sessions, and bad sex before you meet someone remotely relationship-worthy. Don’t get lost in the sappy romantic fallacies created by Hollywood movies and Nicolas Sparks novels. There’s no instant cosmic connection or love at first sight or staring-into-each-other’s souls. There may be some staring going on but not of the soul variety. The gritty truth is that true love takes time to develop, grow and flourish. It’s more like a slow churning crock pot than a 2-minute ramen cup of noodle. So to satisfy your appetite in the meantime, practice loving every part of yourself and improving on the things you don’t like.
Some days, I am impatient, depressed and frustrated about being single. I’m needy for attention and affection and yearn to be desired and understood. I miss that all over, out of body tingly sensation. I want to be stupid in love, the kind that warps your thinking and sense of logic so that nothing else matters except the two of you in blissful harmony. I am also sick of binge-watching Netflix by myself.
Then I remember you cannot rely on someone else to feel happy or whole. That must come from within. The ability to be alone without shattering into tiny pieces is an essential life tool. Don’t be afraid of introspection. Just because you are single now doesn’t mean you’ll end up as a crazy, deranged cat lady. Instead, you’ll learn to understand and accept yourself so that you’re fully able to share your life with others. You’ll realize how independent and strong you can be and how awesome you really are. You’ll know that you are beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate. Remind yourself of this often. Write it on a post-it, yell it out loud, record it on your phone. Self-love is the best kind: no one can take it away from you. EVER.
Besides, the longest relationship you have is the one with yourself so make the best of it.

A piece from Thought Catalog that I keep dear and close to my heart when it gets tough on some days and I go all “Am I that sucky a piece of poopy human being that nobody wants me?” before I remember that no one but myself can make me happy.
When all else fails there’s always my right hand.
Kidding.
Mostly.

Remember the old saying: “Before someone loves you, you must love yourself first.” For that reason, I try to love myself every single day. Believe me, it’s hard to get someone else to love you other than your parents and furry companions. And it’s not because I’m so unlovable. I’m just incredibly judgmental and critical of myself. Coupled with insanely selective standards, falling in love with the right person seems next to impossible. There are no magic love potions to make someone fall in love with you (if there were, they would outsell Viagra) but we can control how we feel about ourselves. The hardest pill to swallow is that there will always be someone prettier, smarter, skinnier, funnier, and taller than you. But once you accept that fact, it gets easier to fall in love with yourself.



There are some nice benefits to dating yourself, too. Going to the movies and never having to share the popcorn. Long walks in the park or strolls down the street at your own pace without having to keep up with Mr. Speedy Gonzalez. No awkward lulls in conversations over meals. No more obligatory reach-ins for the check, no matter whose turn it really is to pay for the date. No need to wait for anyone to show up or find a plausible excuse to end the night. Figuring out what to wear is easy as pie when you can throw on some sweats and a t-shirt without makeup. You’re not a slave to your phone, agonizing about the next time you will hear that sweet ringtone of a text popping up on the screen.



And then there are some not-so-great things when you are single. Bursts of laughter without anyone there makes you look schizo. You open your own doors. Being in the presence of affectionate couples causes extreme nausea and envy. The look on the hostess’ face when you say “just one.” Constant nagging or concern from your mother and/or engaged friends that you are almost 30 and still single. Creating an online dating profile is as stressful as having to take the SATs again. Immense disappointment when that hot tamale doesn’t message you back. The gut-wrenching rejection you face when you think things are going well after the 3rd or 4th date but then you NEVER hear from him again without so little as an explanation or reason.

So what happens when you’ve mastered the art of being alone and self-love? Prince Charming isn’t suddenly going to show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a marriage proposal. The reality is that you’ll probably have many stilted conversations, awkward dates, sloppy make-out sessions, and bad sex before you meet someone remotely relationship-worthy. Don’t get lost in the sappy romantic fallacies created by Hollywood movies and Nicolas Sparks novels. There’s no instant cosmic connection or love at first sight or staring-into-each-other’s souls. There may be some staring going on but not of the soul variety. The gritty truth is that true love takes time to develop, grow and flourish. It’s more like a slow churning crock pot than a 2-minute ramen cup of noodle. So to satisfy your appetite in the meantime, practice loving every part of yourself and improving on the things you don’t like.

Some days, I am impatient, depressed and frustrated about being single. I’m needy for attention and affection and yearn to be desired and understood. I miss that all over, out of body tingly sensation. I want to be stupid in love, the kind that warps your thinking and sense of logic so that nothing else matters except the two of you in blissful harmony. I am also sick of binge-watching Netflix by myself.

Then I remember you cannot rely on someone else to feel happy or whole. That must come from within. The ability to be alone without shattering into tiny pieces is an essential life tool. Don’t be afraid of introspection. Just because you are single now doesn’t mean you’ll end up as a crazy, deranged cat lady. Instead, you’ll learn to understand and accept yourself so that you’re fully able to share your life with others. You’ll realize how independent and strong you can be and how awesome you really are. You’ll know that you are beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate. Remind yourself of this often. Write it on a post-it, yell it out loud, record it on your phone. Self-love is the best kind: no one can take it away from you. EVER.

Besides, the longest relationship you have is the one with yourself so make the best of it.

A piece from Thought Catalog that I keep dear and close to my heart when it gets tough on some days and I go all “Am I that sucky a piece of poopy human being that nobody wants me?” before I remember that no one but myself can make me happy.

When all else fails there’s always my right hand.

Kidding.

Mostly.

Anonymous asked
Ryan, you know that chest pain that you experience when you're feeling sad? I've been experiencing that for the past few days lately... He and I, I don't what know we are... Sometimes I wondered if he sees me as friend, or perhaps less than that. I have to admit, all this while, it was just me having too much feeling for him... Every now and then, I'd revisit the past and recount the stupid things willingly I've done for him, and reaffirm that I'm just a sad fuck... But it's hard to turn away...

Hi Anon!

You sound like you are going through a really rough patch there, so here’s a huge hug for you! I hope that things have started looking up since you sent this to me? I can really relate to your feelings of being stuck in a position of unrequited love, the whole unfairness and anger towards it all.

Going over all the things you did and comparing that against what he did for you never works. It is all too easy to maximize our own suffering ("Can you believe I took that fucking one hour long bus ride to his school carrying his favorite sushi all just because he mentioned he was hungry when I could have been doing better things with my time like going for a manicure?!") and minimize that of his ("I never asked you to come over after work with that green tea latte anyway, so don’t you get all prissy and bitchy at me just because you’re sweating in your work clothes okay?!"), with the end result being that we will almost invariable end up with a conclusion skewed in our favor ("Oh my god poor me being taken advantaged of all the time!!!").

Expectations breed unhappiness and anxiety. What I found helpful for myself was recognizing that I have certain expectations towards some people and that these expectations are my own selfish ones alone. Which is pretty unfair to them, if I take a step back and think about it, because I am expecting them to be somebody they aren’t. And unfair to myself too, because all I am doing is setting myself up for, at best, okay-lor (since they just meet your expectations) and at worst, disappointment (when they fail to meet your expectations).

The expectations you have towards this person sound like they are causing you a lot of pain and pushing you towards making choices you normally wouldn’t do. Would ceasing contact with this person for a little while help in getting you back on stable ground, back into a calm state of mind and being able to make rational choices and see things as they are again? If so, that may be a choice worth considering and doing.

"I’m sorry!" I caught myself yelping as I wiped the bench down after my set while some impatient yahoo tapped his feet waiting for me to be done with my bench presses.
Which really got me thinking as I slurped at my smoothie after the workout (shoutout to the almond ones from Smoothie King: they rock!): what the heck am I feeling so apologetic for? For taking up space? For being a paying member of the gym just like you? Hashtag sorry not sorry.
It is interesting noting how "I’m sorry!" has replaced “Excuse me." in common vernacular. Which is unfortunate, because "I’m sorry!" carries the implication of you being in the wrong and your intention of trying to right that wrong, while "Excuse me." simply acknowledges that you are trying to be considerate of any possible inconvenience you may impose on another person.
Personal mission of the week: stop saying “I’m sorry!”, start saying “Excuse me.”

"I’m sorry!" I caught myself yelping as I wiped the bench down after my set while some impatient yahoo tapped his feet waiting for me to be done with my bench presses.

Which really got me thinking as I slurped at my smoothie after the workout (shoutout to the almond ones from Smoothie King: they rock!): what the heck am I feeling so apologetic for? For taking up space? For being a paying member of the gym just like you? Hashtag sorry not sorry.

It is interesting noting how "I’m sorry!" has replaced “Excuse me." in common vernacular. Which is unfortunate, because "I’m sorry!" carries the implication of you being in the wrong and your intention of trying to right that wrong, while "Excuse me." simply acknowledges that you are trying to be considerate of any possible inconvenience you may impose on another person.

Personal mission of the week: stop saying “I’m sorry!”, start saying “Excuse me.”