brianreeder.com - I do what I want!

To whom it may concern (aka ye faithful that read this blog),

First and foremost, an apology. For the lack of consistent posting, for the lack of direction, for the random crap, for the experiments. I may just be tooting my own horn thinking anyone cares, but I really don’t care either way.

Second, a promise. This blog’s URL is my name. It will start acting as such - a reflection of me. My writing can be found at strikeyourcolors.com, which, as Benjamin puts, is the highest traffic site on the web. Google and Yahoo pale in comparison. This will mean that the content right here will be just as random, but with the common theme of being about me. Again, probably tooting my own horn thinking I lead an interesting enough life for anyone to care about, but I really do. Ha.

Third, the direction. My travels, videos, photos, thoughts, aspirations, etc. Too long this site has simply been a testing ground for social media methods. Oh, those will be included too. Somehow I’ve shawshanked my way deep into the social community, and I have some ideas/thoughts about it.

Lastly, a big GRACIAS for reading. Anyone following my blog is appreciated, and will be monetarily compensated when I win the lottery. Bear that in mind when you leave all your comments on every post. EVERY post. Happy surfing/stumbling/digging/redditing/mixxing/sphinning/etc.

B

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After doing some research (read: thinking about it), I’ve determined that Hugh Hefner, creator of Playboy magazine, is gay.  I realize this is a bold statement, but I am prepared to back up this statement with some pretty compelling evidence.  You be the judge.

Article #1: Hugh is always wearing silk pajamas, and enjoys eating ice cream while watching movies in bed.  If you replaces “Hugh” with “Pamela”, I wouldn’t think anything of it.  The fact is no self-respecting guy is going to admit (much less brag about it) to that, regardless of wealth or status.  “What are you up to tonight Brian, want to grab a beer?  No sorry dude I’m going home to toss my silk pj’s on and watch reruns of ‘Casablanca’ while dominating some ‘Chunky Monkey’”.  Not happening.

Article #2: Hugh always hangs out with old, equally creepy men. Even at Hugh’s big parties, you’ll see a half dozen old men also in there silk pj’s.  This itself isn’t weird, but that they are surrounded by blond bombshells and not even looking at them is.  “Hey Larry, why do these girls keeps pestering us, I just want to talk about stocks and stuff!”

Article #3: Hugh has a whole room. For his shoes. No comment.

Article #4: Hugh’s “girlfriends” are never jealous of each other. As we all know, women can get jealous.  Really jealous.  And that’s only when they’re with one guy in a monogamous relationship.  I CANNOT imagine the fights 3 to 7 petty, materialistic women all sharing the same 81 year old man would have.  But they all seem happy, blank, and content.  They aren’t jealous because their is nothing to be jealous about.

Article #5: Playboy is a gay man’s interpretation of a straight man’s fantasy. By no means am I saying the women aren’t beautiful.  They are.  But they’re all the same.  And they’re all modeled after a certain doll every 6 year-old girl owned.  I’ll give you a hint, it starts with a “B” and ends with an “arbie”.

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This strikes close to home. Indifference is something I have been subject to a lot lately. It is a terrible feeling to have someone you care about act as if you don’t matter.

People say hate is the opposite of love, I say indifference is. I think its the opposite of love because love is about giving yourself through emotion and action to someone. With hate, you are still showing emotion, if negative. But indifference by definition doesn’t involve emotion. I think this puts love and indifference at opposite ends of the spectrum. One involves as much emotion as one can give, the other involves no emotion whatsoever.

Indifference (or apathy) is defined as a complete lack of emotion or motivation about a person, activity, or object; depression; lack of interest or enthusiasm; disinterest.

I’m going to approach this essay a bit differently. I talked a lot of it out sitting in traffic, and was only able to jot a couple broad notes down while trying to avoid dying in an accident. I’m going to base my thoughts strictly off of what I have written down, which assumes I thought it out well. Call it pointed stream of consciousness.

Here are the notes I hurriedly scratched:

Indifference is an attitude, and more specifically a defense mechanism. It is an attitude that we use to guard ourselves from the potential and realized pain/malice of dealing with people and situations. Indifference is both an action and a reaction.

As an Action - Indifference can be an action taken either purposely or not. In other words, you may not feel a certain way about something without first having knowledge about it.

As a Reaction- This is a more defensive and purposeful use of indifference, where a desired outcome is the motivator. This can be anything from “getting over” someone to not worrying about a stressful situation or event. This is an active choice.

Reactionary indifference is the more interesting of the forms to me, because it is a choice. Choosing not to feel is something I see many people do, and have a hard time understanding- to the extent it is used. I understand how indifference can help guard against the overwhelming malice and pain life can inflict, but taken too far it is a saddening sight.

Why do people take indifference too far? I believe the answer is unique to each situation, but generally I think:

• Because it can be easier than dealing with an emotional situation (short-term)
• After not feeling for a long time, it’s easy to become over-whelmed with a “flood” of emotion
• They have no other method of coping with the situation

I think indifference can be both a positive and a negative. I believe we can learn a lot through indifference- through feeling pain and healthily dealing with it (sometimes with indifference) and working through it we can grow and understand ourselves better. Conversely, if we don’t learn from pain, we can abuse indifference and use it to constantly run from our emotions. As this becomes ingrained we forget how to work through pain, and must either use indifference for everything or re-learn our entire ability to deal with an issue.

Indifference is a painful and confusing attitude to receive. It forces the recipient to question every ability and quality they posses. It says “you aren’t worth me feeling anything.” And the base of our nature is emotion. In other words, it is saying that the person, situation, or behavior doesn’t matter to them. When this runs contrary to past behavior or speech, confusion and questioning occur. And potentially indifference.

If you enjoyed my thoughts on this you can find more essays + stories like it at strikeyourcolors.com, my other website.

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Last night was a travesty.

Johnny called me at 8:30 to ask me to come help him out, he had ran out of gas on I-205. I am always happy to help a friend, but this incident pushed me to the edge of both my sanity and composure. It wasn’t anything Johnny did (his stories of 16 year-old’s always entertain), just my already poor mood being tested by half-autistic gas station attendants and terrible road signs.

I drove out to Gresham- a place that ranks just next to Salem on my “I-would-rather-be-shot-in-the-kneecap” scale- already in a bad mood. My mood was not improved after the third gas station attendant looked at me with his non-lazy eye like I was crazy asking to borrow a gas can. One of them told me he’d sell me gas, but I couldn’t use his can. When I asked him what he thought I should use to transport said gasoline, he looked thoughtful (this brought him from “complete inbred” to “second to last place at the special olympics”).

“Well, I guess you could use a milk jug, you’d have to drink the milk though. HAHAHAHA.”

His laugh was something between a screech and a hiccup. It ground every last remaining nerve I possessed. I asked if they had a can I could buy, they did- for $5 dollars.

Now I discovered the true reason I got a phone call from Johnny- he had no money.

I payed for my newly acquired can of gas and the gallon inside of it, and went to my car cursing the world and everything in it. Thank god I had a towel to stifle the leaking petrol and the fumes, now my car will only smell like it for a week instead of a month.

At this point, I was furious. Furious with everything that had happened to me that day, week, month, and year. Furious with friends that take advantage of another’s kindness, with liars, with those that won’t do a damn thing to change what they claim to hate. Furious with myself for not just giving them the middle finger. Furious with every car on the road. Furious with myself.

I drove like a fucking crazy, daring anyone to get in my way. Johnny knows me well enough to keep his mouth shut in this situation, I can verbally undress and whip a person like few others. Unbeknownst to me, the street I was on didn’t connect with any of the exits that would take me Johnny’s abandoned car. When I made this discovery, my mood went even further south- at this point nearing the pole.

We drove for probably 20 minutes before getting back to Johnny’s car, and by this time I was cooled down. I don’t stay angry long- I talk myself through these things very well. Replacing that anger was the deep sadness I’ve possessed for months now. A sadness I have had trouble harnessing and getting passed, but I am. I’ve found the best way to deal with a situation like this is to laugh at it. If I find joy within anger, I no longer am a prisoner of it. I think anger is a useful tool, within moderation, and combined with other emotions that move me away from anger and back towards a more positive outlook.

I emptied the can into his tank, got in my car and went. I have no animosity for helping a friend in need, but I don’t enjoy feeling like the only time I get a call is when that friend IS in need of something. I guess the saying is true…

“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

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This drunk driving accident changed my life. I was 12 years old when it happened, and to have that experience at that age is sobering. I learned + matured a lot from the accident. It gave me perspective at a young age, and gave me a gratitude for life I would not otherwise posses. It is sad that it usually takes an enormous shock, like a near-death experience, for people to begin to appreciate what they have. I consider myself lucky I had it happen at such a young age- some never get it at all. I wrote a personal account of the crash on strikeyourcolors.com, please read it here.

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