The Times We Live In - Part 2

I was laying on top of Lena’s back. Our skins touching while the rare Seattle sunlight enters through the window brings warmth, and comfort to our bodies. She giggles.

“Ryan, this word has way too many letters.” Giggling still and liking the feeling she continues “is that a ‘K’?”

“‘K’? You suck at this.”

“No, I don’t” she says. I resume licking her back, spelling out a word with my tongue. “Now that’s an A!” Lena exclaims. “Is it Seattle?”

“Uh, no”

“Is it Sailor?” She asks.

“I’m spelling the word sailor because it’s so freaking sexy! Uh no! God you are the worst guess the lick word I have ever played with.”

“No, I’m good. You’re tongue has bad lick-manship.” Lena rebuts like a little girl.

“I’m starving,” I said as I got off Lena’s back. I walk to the kitchen to grab a tray of fruit. It was in a clear plastic container you know, the one’s you can buy in the supermarket sliced, cut and ready to eat. I walk back to the bed, picking up a tee I was wearing underneath my suit for work yesterday. Lena reaches for the other side of the bed to wear this tank that looked like it hasn’t seen the insides of the washer and dryer for a long time. I lay down next to her and I start munching on the honeydews.

“Oh god, you forget how good fruit taste when you’re loaded all the time,” I said as the sweet juice gushed out of my mouth. Then a buzz; A buzzing sound triggers a familiar inquiry.

“Are you expecting anyone? At 8AM?” Lena asks.

Wiping the juice in my lips, “Oh God no.”

I prance barefoot towards the door to open the door. A lady hands a letter to me with the envelope labeled DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE, UNITED STATES ARMY. I open it, surfing through important words and I say to myself “…Oh my god…” It didn’t register to my head it was the mail man: a black lady wearing a navy blue cap, sky blue shirt with a pen and clipboard on her hand. She asked apathetically,
“If you can just sign this, son, I’ll go.”

I whisper “of course.”

Glancing back and forth from the letter to the mailman walking away felt like that everything that is good that I know on this world went with her. Repeating to myself “they want me back. They want me back.”

I hear light footsteps behind me then a slap in my behind. Lena pecks me on the neck and asks “what did you get?”

“Just some government stuff” I said, riffling the letter back into the envelope.

“Oh okay. I’m gonna get ready for work.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said while facing the door. For a minute I couldn’t move. It was a struggle. Somewhere between fear and agony is telling me what I can do. But I couldn’t figure out what I should do. I sit in my couch to turn on the news in an attempt to cancel what I just found out. CNN is reporting on 18 people who died in the recent bombings in Iraq. Now the weight of the world was inching up my shoulders for me to carry. Something awfully familiar is knocking on my door and I refuse to let it in. I refuse to. Lena was walking out of the door, and she asks if I wanted to join her for lunch. I was lost in my thoughts and I mumbled my reply

“Sure, why not? That…that would be nice.”

She senses something was wrong but she completely wrote it off and left. I could hear the newscaster talking about the casualties in Iraq, the roadside bombings, the suicide attacks by women in veil and the extremists—all this babble I can hear but I cannot comprehend. I reach for my cel phone on the side table to dial for my brother, two rings, he picks up.

“Hey, stupid what’s up?”

“Look, Caleb, I just got a registered mail from the Army…” Immediately, his voice changes to a somewhat concerned tone.

“About what?” I hear the squeaking sound of his office chair as he sits up straight to brace for what ever it is that I am about to tell him,

“What does it say?” He asks.

“Saying what?” I took a long, deep breath,

“Saying what Ryan?”

“…they want me back.”

There was a momentary silence. One that took long enough to remind both of us what our family went through when I initially enlisted in the Army. He broke the silence.

“It’s going to be okay, Ryan. Why don’t you come visit me in the office after your meeting and we’ll talk about this more?”

I hang up, didn’t say a word and just sat there. The babbling of newscasters on the TV was hurting my ears so I reached for the remote to turn it off. I sit back and rest my feet on the coffee table. Breathing deeply, I close my eyes, jerking my head back to feel the sunshine in my face. The warm light was playfully touching my forehead down to my cheeks and neck. The brightness soars pass my eyelids and it took me back to the dreaded day that changed the rest of our lives.

The Times We Live In - Part 1

“I…uhm…I enlisted today.” I reveal to them. The brief silence is broken by mom, and she asks, “Enlisted in what?”
“In the military, mom,” I reply.
“Is this like the time when you wanted to be a roadie for Linkin Park?” Jo asks.
“…or open a brewery?” Caleb says.
“…or the karate school?”
He continues, “Oh dude it’s called a dojo!”
“Guys I’m serious. I went to the recruiters today and I joined the army.” I reply back to them.
“You enlisted in the army? As in THE army, the guys with rockets and tanks?” I nod my head in agreement, and Jo says, “Look, its too soon to be making jokes…”
“He’s not joking,” mom says.
“The recruiters say they’re getting a lot of volunteers, and we can…”
“No! I’m sorry, no” mom says.
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“No, you are not going!” She continues, “God damn it Ryan, you are not going!”
I turn to dad, “Dad, remind mom what the Army did for you. I’m three years older when you enlisted. You’ve always talked about how the army built you up.”
“That was a different time, Ryan,” Jo intrudes.
“I understand why you want to serve your country, and this…this noble instinct…” dad explains.
“It’s not an instinct,” I cut dad off. Then I continue, “No one is going to stop me, I am doing this.”
“The hell I’m not!” Mom says. “I will not have a child of mine put themselves in harms way because they are caught up in some nationalistic fever.”
“I maybe your son, but I am not you’re child anymore. I mean, I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions.” I say back to her as I pass the bread basket to Jo.
“Oh come on, you’re not even old enough to handle you’re own credit cards, do you think you’re ready enough for a gun?” Jo adds.
“You know what Jo, we talked about this! You said yourself that we need to do something, and that we are not safe anymore,” to my dismay.
“Ryan, she’s a magazine writer for conservative readers, half of the things she said aren’t true,” Caleb refutes.
“You are not going, Ryan!” Mom yells.
“Are you serious about this?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, I’m driving next week to Fort Lewis to report for basic training.”
“Then god speed,” dad says.

Mom stands up and heads towards the study room. She didn’t say a word, and dad follows her. I resume to eating my salad, and Caleb starts talking to Jo.
“You know, this is your fault, you and your republican log cabin friends!”
“You really need to retract your glittering claws before you accuse me of anything. Ryan is who he is. He is an adult. He can make a decision for himself!” She sips wine that Caleb poured, and continues,
“we talked about it, and what we talked about was that something needs to be done. I didn’t know that he was going to do this.”
“This is your brother for Christ’s sake!”
“Yes he is! I for one am proud of what he is doing…”
Caleb cuts her off, “oh no, no, this is not one of your articles. This is not your magazine. This is Ryan! Your brother! What is wrong with you?”
“You two, I’m right here you know.” I say to them.

“I’m doing this.”

Long Overdue: Public Service Announcement

The drivers here in Pennsylvania are making me bitter about the littlest things. May I present:

It's been in my phone for quite some time now and it's time to put it up!

How stereotypical! Eck!

2008 in 120 Seconds! (a repost!)

I just had to put this video back up, it is an awesome way of saying goodbye to 2008 and welcoming 2009...with minor adjustments of course... It was utterly inconsiderate of me to put up the initial video with THAT photo, which I completely forgot that IT was highly inappropriate. ...But then again, just enjoy the video I had fun making it!

**facebook readers you have to view the original post to watch the clip

SK2 Moran's Going Away!!

In true honor of my blog (which basically translates to narcissism, bigotry and self-obsession...which also translates to ME! ME! ALL ABOUT ME!) I will pay homage to SK2 Stephen Moran's going away weekend. Well it's not an actual all-out weekend bash but rather a continuous leg of going out and impromptu trips.

It started on a Friday afternoon where I would normally be in bed passed out and regaining my energy from the previous night (ahem!)... I walk in the office, hung-out with my asian crew who was still cooking lumpia (spring rolls)...the irony of it, the person cooking was vietnamese but the dish is Filipino...HMMM!

So I got bored, I was basically walking around exclaiming my AWESOMENESS then Stephen walks in re-ennacts "the night." The night he chocked me out at 2AM while eating my munchies-after-booze. I was passed out for at least 2 minutes! Not cool! Very uncool!

People started walking in. Prayer. Then the good part...FOOD. Time to eat!!

Which then translates for the opportunity to catch people stuffing food in their faces.

THAT or catching people taking their 5th and 7th round in the food line! AHAHA! I know its called 'seconds' for your second plate of getting food. But if it's like your 5th or 7th I don't think...okay I'm going to stop there before I say something destructive but just take a look at this picture:

We then proceeded to handing out XMAS presents. We did secret santa and I gave away these gloves I got from the GAP which was really awesome that I got one for myself too. It was insulated by 3M, so you can't beat that!

The food and gift giving was the good part. The BEST part in that luncheon was Stephen crying like a bitch and me trying not to laugh! ...AND OH YEA video clips coming soon. VERY SOON!! Sorry Man, I'll send you a link when you get to Iraq.

The following day, Saturday, went out for drinks at Main St, in the neighborhood of Manayunk in Philadelphia. Started with margaritas at Cactus bar...then everything was a haze which was then followed by me throwing up and concocting one of the brightest idea I've had in a long time.

A trip to NEW YORK! Yes. An impromptu road trip to Manhattan was in the works. I thought it was going to be a boys-Sunday-Trip but it ended to be a man-date between me and Stephen.

I had fun!

There was a lot of walking.

...Seeing Bryant Park and ice skating rink


Bull Balls licking...



And other touristy stuff like the Grand Central, Times Square, Chinatown and PEKING DUCK!

It was short and fun. I am so glad I met this sailor. He will be truly missed! If there was any sort of wisdom that Stephen left for me is about my man-whore-ness...he said that I "could sleep with everyone, I mean everyone in the world, but at the end of the night I am still alone sleeping at night in bed."

That's what I call wisdom from the guy who loves taking pictures while in the toilet.

Farewell my friend!

Looks Fun? Hell Yeah It was!!

Facebook readers, you have to view the
original post to watch the video...

Good, clean, wholesome...FUN.

I found A spot. The spot in Pennsylvania!!

IM me and I'll send you a number to call. When you call this person, he will tell you a secret password and when you meet him at 13th and Sansom you have to utter the three magic words and he will tell you the address of 'the spot.'

GOODLUCK!

This SONG is AWESOME!!

What and Who does Paolo Flores deserve? Only the most AWESOME things in life, anything less than that is not worth my time. Now its time to put our dancing shoes on, enjoy the song!!

PUHAHAHAHA!!



Facebook readers, you have to view the original post to view the video

It should be a good week!

Other than the 20 degree weather that I am loving and 30MPH of wind gusts, it SHOULD be a good week!

I wish they made that 'sex lube' jelly bean!

BE SAFE EVERYONE!

It's Official!

After 3 Universities, 1 Community college and a military technical school I am proud to announce that:

After weeks of speculation, I woke up this morning to put an end at this waiting game. I know it's not UPenn or Dartmouth or...Brown, but I am satisfied with this institution. They accepted most of my previous college credits which makes my journey towards an Undergraduate diploma faster!

Next Stop: Wharton School of business for my Masters...now If only I could get out of the military... or maybe I should push through with the plans, Officer Candidate School! and then world domination! nyahaha!

Hello Lions,

Goodbye Huskies!

Frock! Frock! I got Frocked!

I look so hot and skinny in this uniform!

Frocking. \Frocking\

is a US term for a military officer or non-commissioned officer wearing insignia of a higher grade before promotion. An officer or NCO who has been selected for promotion may be authorized to "frock" to the next grade. (wikipedia)

After 6 months in the service (circa May 2008), I was advanced to a Petty Officer Third Class, simply called a PO3 or rate wise SK3. Denoting my rate, Storekeeper third class.

So what does this mean? Nothing. Just more ammunition for the upper ups to slam something in my face (e.g. for Christ's sake, your a petty officer now Flores!) if I don't perform up par to their expectations (or I simply didn't follow them) or I walked around the base with a jacked up uniform!

oh I know what it means, more pay and living off base. So apartment hunting mode is ON!

oh wait so do I deserve a congratulations?