I Am An Ocean

I am an ocean. I am the waves that crash on my soul and cause an endless swirl of matter. I am the sun, reflecting upon my waters. I am the moon, directing every movement of the tide like a director of a concert band. I am the lifeless grain of sand that lays with the countless others just like me. I am the wind that shifts my grain miles from where it was just a moment ago. I am the bird that dips its wing in the water. I am the water at the feet of the playful child, splashing with joy unseen by the busy humanity around him. I am the rain that quenches the thirst of the  garden that bears the produce only to be consumed in the end. I am a circle. I am a cycle. I am the water that is splattered in a million microscopic directions when the wheel of the bicycle rides through me. I am the water that children in the poorest of countries grasp for while I lay helplessly as a puddle. I am the water that drips on the heads of the hopeful hypocrites, the adventurous introverts, and the curious skeptics. I am the final resting place of the leaf that traveled a thousand miles from its tree to my waters. I am an ocean.
They are sharks. Ferociously tearing through my waters. They are the massive oil companies, dumping their canisters of pollution into me, turning my shining blue into a darkening black abyss. They are the fishermen, throwing their trash at me, killing my insides. They are the grasslands and marshes, watching me from a distance, taunting their higher ground. They are the vultures that circle my dead. They are the storms that shake my waters. They are the black holes, sucking the life out of me. They are the nightmares that instill fear in even the brightest corners of my soul. They are the industrialized city, slowly growing in power, but losing grip of the reality that once lived there. They are the man behind the gun that is blinded by hatred, killing everything in his sight. They are the drugs that intoxicate the healthiest souls. They are the hard punch to the gut that comes when my waves are at their tallest. They are the demons that possess every living thing to worship material possessions.  But I am an ocean.
I am bigger than the hate. I am bigger than the sharks and the oil companies and the fishermen. I am bigger than the black holes and cities and demons.  My waves crash away, my winds howling in agony.  Their storms can churn my tides, but cannot touch my core. Because I am one with everything. But I am not an ocean.
I am the fish. The smallest fish in the grandest of waters. I swim up from depths that I could never comprehend and touch the surface. The surface of my inner being. I poke my insignificant head out of the only thing that I have ever known and look at the world around me. The world that I have yet to explore. I am small. But I am a part of something much larger. An ocean full of life and death and love. Who said fish can't love? I, the smallest fish in the sea, love all of it. I love even the storms that rock my world. I love those sharks that make me swim for my life. Because without those storms and sharks, I would not be the fish that I am today. I am one with it all. I am one with the earth and the sky. I am one with the ocean. I am an ocean.
"Oh blood of black and white and gray, death and life and night and day. One by one by one, we let our rivers run."-Switchfoot, "Restless"

Inside My Addiction Part 1: The Bachelor

I have a very deep, dark secret. Few people know this about me. That's right, for years I have been strangely addicted to ABC's hit reality dating show, The Bachelor(ette). Yes, I am that 40-year-old woman who sits on her couch every Monday night with a bowl of ice cream ready to watch America's newest man or woman attempt (and most likely fail) at finding love.
For those who may be unfamiliar, I ask you to climb out from under your rock. The Bachelor or Bachelorette is basically a contest to find love. One person ends up dating over 20 people at the same time and has to narrow it down each week. Of course, this gets hard because the bachelor or bachelorette feels strongly for multiple women or men. It also creates sickly satisfying drama.
What? A teenage guy can't get into watching 20+ beautiful women fighting for one man's heart or a bunch of guys ready to throw a punch for who they claim to be the girl of their dreams? I don't watch this show for the love, I watch it for all the other stuff that goes on, just like everyone else in America. (Ok maybe a little bit is for the love part.) But who doesn't love watching all the crap that happens when the Bachelorette or Bachelor isn't around? You can bet I'll be watching the season finale of Kaitlyn's season tonight.
The most ridiculous part of the show however, is that these people magically fall in love within the span of like 6 or 8 weeks. EVERY TIME! Seriously though, how have most of these people ended up with someone at the end of this time? Granted, it never lasts for most of these couples. That's probably because what works in paradise doesn't work in reality. Thanks, reality television.
I suppose the aftermath is the hardest challenge. Working on the relationship in real life after traveling all over the world on the show and fighting for love. If a couple can survive that, then chances are they can make this work.
This is probably extremely hypocritical for me to be criticizing what I claim to be addicted to, but it's true. The show is ridiculous and not realistic, but hey, everyone has that guilty pleasure.
The Bachelorette actually gave me a love connection myself, without going on the show. When I was in the 10th grade I sat next to a girl named Erika in my English class. I thought she was pretty weird and a little annoying. She would talk to me, but I would never really say much back to her. One day, specifically a Tuesday after the Bachelorette the night before, Erika was sitting in English class and was talking about the show with some of the people around her. I pretty much shocked everyone by joining right in the conversation, throwing out names, who was my favorite, blah, blah, blah. Some of the guys sitting around me were also pretty shocked in a judgmental sort of way. I didn't really care though, it was actually pretty funny. Erika and I would talk about the Bachelorette in class and not pay attention to what was actually going on. The following week, on Bachelorette night, I got a Facebook message from Erika who was also watching the show. We talked back and forth for a decent part of the 2 hour show, and that continued for the next few weeks. Somewhere along the way, I think we stopped texting on Monday nights, but it started again just in time for the finale that season. After the finale, we continued to talk and kept talking on and off for months. That September we started dating and have been ever since, watching the Bachelor or Bachelorette every season since together.
So I mean, I suppose I'm grateful for the Bachelor for that and also giving me something to look forward to on Mondays. But still. Even though the show puts heavy focus on the drama, it still is about finding love and if it works out for them that's great (although it's only worked a few times). It worked out for me!
"Love hurts, love scars, love wounds..."-Nazareth, "Love Hurts"

What I Learned in (High School) Is...

DISCLAIMER: I apologize to those of you who don't understand the Spongebob reference in the title.

I'm sure that many people would agree that at least once in their life someone has told them that they wish they could be in high school again. Chances are that this person was most likely going through a mid life crisis. But let's be real, it's happened. So as a recent graduate, can I actually predict if in 30 years I'll say the same thing? Eh, maybe, but probably not. 

Let's be real again. I can't tell you how many people took "Senioritis" to the next level, myself included. You would probably think that high school was the worst experience in our lives, but honestly I think that it was probably the best experience in our lives. 

Let's be unreal. Imagine a world without high school. A world where education ends in 8th grade when most people are 13 or 14 years old. Imagine everything that we would miss. We would miss growing up with our friends and watching them grow with us as human beings. Personally, I think that that was the most valuable thing that high school taught me. When you're shoved in a building with well over 1,000 students, you get to know some of them pretty well. But what you get to know better is that people change. Yes, believe it or not this thing happens. The best friend that you grew up with since you were 6 years old is now 16 and your worst enemy. Or on drugs. Or moved away. And when people change we tend to grow apart. But when our hearts take charge and tell ourselves that we don't want to grow apart, strange things happen. We either see that person make an effort or they move on. The latter is the one that seems to happen the most. And trust me that has happened to me more than a few times. 

I was once best friends with a kid since 4th grade when he first moved to my elementary school. I was one of his first friends at the school and I absolutely loved the guy. He was a lot bigger than me so I also thought he was a pretty good guy to have on my side in case of those jacked playground bullies. Anyway, literally every year after 4th grade he would tell me that his house was for sale again and that he was moving the following summer. So for the first few years that was believable and I made the most of my time with him. However, when he continued to tell the rest of our friends and I into Jr. High, we stopped believing him. Finally, when we were in 9th grade, it was the usual toward the end of the year. This time though he was swearing that this was definitely his last year. But he was still picking classes for the following year, so none of us believed him yet again and even though our goodbyes at the end of the year were a little more bittersweet than usual, we still told him that we would see him next year. It wasn't until the first day of 10th grade that we realized that he was actually gone. It was really sad! We couldn't believe he wasn't lying. I texted him a few times after that to see how he was doing and he told me that he had moved to Philadelphia (where he was telling us he was moving ever since 4th grade) and that he absolutely loved it. He was never a guy for texting often and each time I would be the one to initiate the texts. The last time I ever texted him, I told him that we all missed him, but he never said anything about missing us in return, which kind of made me a little mad. We had been friends for 6 years and he kind of just blew it off like it was nothing. We had had a lot of great times together. Most of my memories in Jr. High were with him. But after that we never talked to this day. Time went on and although I was upset about losing one of my best friends to distance, I moved on. 

Whew, that was a little depressing. So, with the end of high school I've learned that communication is the only thing we can do and that we can only do what's in our power. Friendship is a two way street and if it's only traveling one way, there's no return. So call me a creeper, but seeing people change into who they are today was honestly my favorite thing about high school; whether that be the nerd who's now on drugs or the popular girl who now is ridiculed for playing tuba in the marching band. 

So then I take a step back and say to myself, "Am I happy with who I was in high school ?". Most importantly, am I happy with who I am now going into the next phase of my life? I think I am. Are there things that I would change about my high school career? Yes, absolutely. But do I regret who I was? No, not at all. Looking at the present, I have some of the best friends in the world. They make me laugh, make me angry, make me want to better myself, and most importantly make me understand the true meaning of what it means to be a friend. I feel for my friends. When they're sad, I'm sad for them. When they're happy, I'm happy for them. It's an incredible chain reaction. Never in  my freshman year did I think I would be friends with who I am now. And I think a lot of people can say that. And I'm happy with how that turned out. So I don't want to go back to high school. I don't have to relive those times, because I'll be busy making new memories with them and cherishing the old ones.

So what did I learn in high school? I learned that people change with the times and that although it hurts, the person we planned sitting next to in a rocking chair wrecking havoc in the nursing home may not be our best friend anymore. But I learned what true friendship takes to succeed. And that's the best thing I could've ever learned in high school. 

"Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up."-OneRepublic, "I Lived"

My Run with the Rooster

Three days out of the week I babysit for my mom's childhood best friend's kids. It's a pretty simple job, and nothing super stressful because I've know these kids their whole lives. But one particular day a few weeks ago, I had a traumatic experience when watching them. This family has quite the array of animals including a dog, 2 cats, a hermit crab, a lizard named Sheldon, and a demonic rooster named George.
From my first day I had the idea of what kind of monster George was. He was your basic rooster out of a horror movie. He would perch himself on a bench or chair or wherever he could get himself a good view inside the house. And for hours he would stare at us with those beady little eyes, barely moving unless disturbed by something else.
On one of my first days watching the kids, they wanted to go outside and jump on their trampoline. The moment I stepped outside, Tommy (the youngest at 11 years old) casually told me to grab the bamboo stick. Clearly this was foreign to me and Katie (the oldest at 12 years old) took it upon herself to go into the garage quickly and grab a bamboo stick appearing to be 7 feet in length. Confused, I asked the kids what this was for and they told me that it was in case George got a little rowdy. I replied with a nod understanding the implication. I was also informed that George was the only one of their chickens left because the fox had killed the other chickens, but evidently George had the chicken-power to whoop some fox ass and that fox don't come 'round no mo'. He also had the chicken-power to whoop some human ass. Therefore, bamboo stick. That day we only stayed on the trampoline for about 10 minutes, mostly because of the heat but also because George was getting within an unsafely close proximity. At one point Tommy even ran at George with the bamboo stick. I ran pretty fast when he started getting close, but we all remained safe.
A few weeks later, Tommy and I decided to risk everything and go outside. There's a large field next to their house with lots of berries ready to pick, so we decided it was worth it. We always kept our guards on in case we saw George. After nearly 20 minutes of safe picking we thought we were in the clear. Tommy and I were just finishing up when I heard him yell "RUN!!!!". Now he was right next to me so I was a little confused why he was yelling and also was very into my berry picking because I had just found a nice patch of juicy ones. After a few seconds it finally registered with me and I turned to see George poking his head around the corner of the bushes. Not only was this a terrifying scene, it was plain messed up that these kids were this afraid of this rooster. I repeatedly told Tommy that it was okay and that he would live to tell this story, while at the same time telling myself the same exact thing. I strategically ran around George and he didn't seem bothered by that at all and continued to mind his own business. I yelled over to Tommy who was about 75 feet away from me and told him to do the exact same thing that I just did but he told me that he was going to run around the long way to get away from George and that I should distract him so it was clear when he got back. So, doing my best impression of a female chicken that he may want to fertilize some eggs with, I tried to distract a rooster. George really seemed to be getting nothing out of this so I stopped and decided to wait for Tommy to get back because George actually seemed pretty harmless at this point. During that time I found a tick on my leg and was picking it off my leg when I heard the pitter patter of small legs hitting the grass. I looked up only to see George accepting the devil inside of him and full on charging right at me. I booked it out of there, completely forgetting Tommy in the process. George moved fast and was gaining on me, which is a little embarrassing really. Luckily the house wasn't far, but by the time I reached the front door George was already on the porch step about 4 feet from me, and I quickly slammed the door in his stupid little beak. Breathing heavy with my back against the door, Katie quickly asked me what happened and my only reply was that a rooster almost killed me. She asked me where Tommy was and I told her to hope for a new baby brother because he was probably already dead. She went outside then to find Tommy and a decent amount of time later they returned safely.
Now maybe you're wondering why earlier I referred to George in the past tense. That's because after this incident George never saw the light of day again. He is now constantly locked in his pen and I like to think it's because of our little marathon, but it's really because George was digging up flowerbeds while stalking his owners.
Deep down inside, I know George is probably just angry because he lost his chicken girlfriends and that must really suck for him because he was basically the Hugh Hefner of the coop. But he doesn't need to be so salty about it, because chances are if he wasn't on coop arrest he would've got that fox.
"A little bit of chicken fried..."-Zac Brown Band, "Chicken Fried"

Hello Internet!

Dear Internet,

I am pleased to see that you have found my first blog post. Let me introduce myself. My name is Ryan Stifnell. I'm no more or less ordinary than you sitting there on your computer, I just felt compelled to share my life. Starting a blog has been on my agenda for a few months now and like anything in life, I never got around to it. So when my girlfriend of almost 2 years, Erika, started her own blog that was a pretty big slap in the face.

Don't you hate firsts? I do. When you dream about something that you hope to do for a long time you don't generally only think about your first time, but rather the experience as a whole. Your first day at a job is not what you look forward to when starting a career that you hope to keep for many years; you look forward to the friendships, money (let's be real), and experiences that you'll make. Depending on your outlook on life, that is. When I think about starting a blog I generally think about all of the super cool stuff I'm going to blog about, not the first blog post that will probably be super awkward and full of stuff that I'm just making up on the spot. So, uh, yeah.

Excuse my A.D.D., I'll get back to introducing myself. I am 18 years old and this fall I will be starting my freshman year at Susquehanna University located in good ol' Selinsgrove, PA. I suppose I can't say "good ol'" yet because I've only visited three times. I am majoring in Business Admin and hope to double major with Creative Writing. That's where this whole blog thing comes in. Other than that formal crap, I'm pretty easy going and looking for a ton of adventures in life that I hope to share right here in forms of observations about life, learning about relationships, and ultimately what my own purpose in life is. I'll keep you updated. 

I mentioned my girlfriend Erika earlier. She and I have been dating for practically two years, which for high school students is pretty awesome! She's joining me in my adventure at Susquehanna for the next four years and I'm so happy about that. I hate the stereotype about couples that go to the same college. I can't tell you how many times that Erika and I have been asked what colleges we're going to and when we say that we're going to the same one people seem to have this knee-jerk reaction that's almost a cringe or a very elongated "ohhhhh" with that winky face emoji. What's with that? 

The main reason that Erika and I are going to the same college is because we want to take on this journey together. If you honestly feel something for the person that you're with and are serious about it, why wouldn't you consider it? I'd rather be with her than miss four years of her life hearing about it on the phone, constantly being interrupted by noisy roomates. Either way, Erika is my partner-in-crime, biggest supporter, and best friend. There's nothing greater than that!
Enough cheesy crap. I hope that you, my reader, choose to embark on this journey with me. I can't wait to share what life is like through my eyes, while at the same time gain insight on what others think about life. It's the greatest mystery in the world. I'm ready to uncover it.
Yours Truly,
Ryan
"Don't let your spirit die before your body does. We're terminal."-Jon Foreman, "Terminal"