illian_video

Take a lot of my entries with it.

I suck at life...and I am an alcoholic. Sometimes, before I go to bed...I get in a negative mind set and post dumb shit like I did last night. I was so drunk then, I don't remember what I posted until I got the emails.

I am OK, dudes.
I am OK. I am not good or great...I am OK.

Girls fucking suck. If I could end up with someone like Andie- then I could be just fine.

So yeah.

I am doing whatever I am doing....most of which I don't know about until it happens.

So I met you today.
You asked me about Beth.
And you said "Did you ever have sex with her?"
To which I had no choice but to say "Yes, lots of times."
"Wow. She just led me on for years. How did you do it?"
And all I could say: "It was tequila and klonopin."

"I hate it, but you are awesome, Ryan Candelaria."

I have been distant from my parents lately.
I mean it's nothing against them. Unlike most people, I had a happy family.....Albeit with lots of dysfunction, yelling, and a dosage of going behind one another's backs.....All in all...It was kick-ass.

I don't know why. Maybe it's because my mom has completely lost her bananas and the only one I can trust not to deceive me is my dad.

Anyway- Me and my dad have been talking about a project for a while. He's got a small studio thing happening in the basement...so I brought home some synthesizers.
I brought home 3, some MIDI stuff, and an outbound FX processor that I don't use anymore.

I'm cleaning up the apartment.
I am looking to get laid...so I got to take some gear home and clean up this place.

Plus, there are two synths that need some expensive hardware to fix. I don't have the money, so they are going home in 2 weeks.

Anyway- I set up the machines- and left them alone.
They sat there for a day...I was screwing around on one of them- and they didn't take much interest.
One morning, dad gets up and asks to hear it.
I told him that they aren't complicated at all to operate (unless you want to do crazy shit with them).
So mom comes down to see what the commotion is..and we all spent the whole morning playing around with synthesizers.
Mom had never played a synth. My dad hadn't since the mid 1970s.
It turns out they were like most people- they aren't interested in synths simply because they don't KNOW about them. They just hear sounds and either don't know what they are or what machines are used to make them.

Synths are fucking cool. If you don't think so...then you need to find some hobbies. I mean it's a keyboard...an instrument...and you play with knobs and (in their case) a trackball.
Yeah, I busted out the old MV Tierra. An angelic Korg Wavestation/PPG Waveterm/PPG Wave/Prophet VS machine with awesomeness coming out of it everywhere. A rare beast that should have a better owner. I payed so much money for it...and only used it about 6 times. Granted each of those six times was like 4-7 hours.
I hit the FM button and said "Now hold the keys down and use the trackball".

It was kinda cool.
However, neither one of them could get or get in to the "synth blues" concept. It's my genre...and it doesn't make sense to other living things.

For some reason, my Windows 98 era Microsoft Sidewinder.....doesn't work with any other OS....but works for Windows Vista for some reason....hooked it up and played emulators.

Oh yeah, there was NON Turkey on Turkey Day.
We got sick of turkey a long time ago.
We go a crab-shrimp-lobster boil that is way better than any turkey.
We also did ribs, fried turkey legs, etc.
For the past 2 months, I've become so that I don't eat meat unless I am at home.
And damn- I ate so much freaking meat while I was at home, that I wont have to eat any for a while.

I've been trying to lose weight. I've been slowly succeeding. Beer doesn't help, but I am an alcoholic. I'd sooner stop eating all together than stop drinking alcohol.
It'd be easier than you think.....When I get drunk, I get lazy...and order food on my credit card.
Well, I hadn't payed the bill since April (and last week)...and they took it away.
No, they took it away.
They told me to mail it back to them or have to pay a fee. They also said that I couldn't make any more transactions on that account until X% of the balance is paid off.

Credit Cards. Like a fuck buddy. In the beginning it's pure bliss...then the taste gets sour.....then it's something you want to be as far away from as possible. All in all-fun while it lasted....but the emotional embarrassment and regret has you paying for it for years.

Fun stories...but 2009 is thus far the year where the Cool Ryan Story met it's demise.
My life has become so boring now. Stuff just stopped happening to me.

Get Up. Get In. Get Out....cause Life's too dangerous.

I don't care if you are half-fox, half-woman...you have a PPG.
I don't care if you are 9000 miles away.
I just don't give a shit anymore.

I'm armed with enough synthesizers to sustain this.
If in all else, I got some crazy-ass bedroom skills I picked up during the crazy years.

And here it goes!
I'm grabbing the phone.



*Update*

Where the fuck is my phone?

Oh well, lazyness takes over. I am going back to bed.

Dumb things:

"What's up Vagina Face?"
Ryan: "That's what she said....but then again, I had drawn a vagina on my face to make her laugh."

I don't like LJ's new form of advertising nowadays.
THIS is NOT a blog. A blog is where douche bags rant about things they don't know about to people and appeal to a shallow narcissistic audience that has nothing better to do than to read such tripe. This is a JOURNAL. This is REAL....and involves really crappy things and a bunch of random musings made for a very small audience....not an audience looking for something shallow and stupid to read.

Anyway.

"Get my a Vodka-Rocks!"
"Mom, it's breakfast"
"Oh...and a piece of toast."

THANK YOU! My family, despite my mom constantly drinking when I am home, refuses to accept me having my first (among many) margarita at 9:30am.
SCREW YOU!
For the record, the first time I've ever drank in the morning is between 3-7am....
Depending on the drugs, I was either in bed by 9am.....or starting a binge that lasted from 7am to 11pm....because at that point my BAC forced me to pass out....stupid kidneys.

"Gloria...do we shoot people we love?"
- "Sometimes."
"Yes, sometimes."

Almost as awesome as Arrested Development.

As a matter of fact. I order you all to get a bottle of wine, and curl up in your computer chair and watch Arrested Development Season 1 on Hulu.com.
After that, you can refer to me as to where to stream the other two seasons online for free without ads.

"What's better than hanging out with family?" *phone rings* "Aww, CRAP! It's my mother."


"I am sick of playing second fiddle, being third in line, always finishing in fourth, being the fifth wheel....and there are six things that I am mad about." - GOB, Arrested Development.

My poor neighbor. She's so hot and so single and can't seem to find anybody, plus she's got a drunk synth kid harassing her....BUT! he only occupies her time because he has a crush on her.

I saw her open her door...so I just walked in. No warning or saying anything. (she is used to this).
She was putting on makeup and said "I hope you don't think I'm shallow because I am putting on a lot of makeup."
I responded.....(because I realized what I was wearing). "I hope you don't think I'm crazy for barging into your apartment really drunk and without pants."
"Nope, that's just you being Ryan."

All people in my life are aware of my lack of class and constant weirdness...and constant drunkness.

Seek out your local Ryan Candelaria for pure unfiltered weirdness....in fact, he's good for unfiltered ANYTHING.

I got a compliment from the 40-esque woman at Phils today. I said "See you tomorrow" because I come there 2-4 times a day.
"It wouldn't be an evening without seeing your pretty face."

YAY! Someone thinks I'm pretty.
When I come in there, Andrew and Marcus are always talking to me, because we have ongoing conversations and such. The girls there just like asking me what I am doing this evening- but ALL of them see me come up and put a pack of Pall Mall Menthols on the counter. Everyone there knows that's what I smoke...so they just get them for me. I come there more often than any other customer...and I also make it my post-work pre-videogame hangout. They are all really cool people. Some of them, I hired in my organization to supplement their Phils income.

Phil's and my standing with it is one of the reasons why it would be so hard to leave Boone.

So this morning I started drinking. Poor Quincy was sleeping on the bed.
So I woke hum up by placing an ice cold beer against his face...and I made him take a drink.
And he said to me "You are an alcoholic. And you just made my day, because I am too."

I just woke up and threw up everywhere.
Well.



Shit.


I guess.

I don't know why I am posting this, but I feel the need to for some reason. So I am going to resume drinking and watch more Arrested Development.

I am too self destructive when I am single.

"I just woke up and started blasting puke everywhere. Then I cleaned it up. I decided to take off my glasses so that I couldn't see the grossness. Only to put them back on and realize I did a sucky job of cleaning it up."

"I woke up at 7! No, I started drinking at 7:30, threw up some more, and then waited until 8:30 to resume drinking."

"But, you know my apartment is notorious for weird odors."

"Hey! Can I use your bathroom?"
-- "Don't you have your own bathroom?"
"Yeah, but its completely covered in puke in right now."

It was a classic move.
I almost made it to the bathroom...then I stumbled...and tried to cover my mouth. HAHA!
EVERYWHERE it went!

And there was so much of it! OMG! I was having a category 5 freakout.
In the end....all I could do was laugh. It was really freaking funny. I am laughing now....cause there was so much puke and so little of it made it to the toilet.

It was EVERYWHERE! It wouldn't stop coming! It was quite epic.
The walls....the floor....the sink.....everywhere!!!

While cleaning it up- I kept puking even more. It was a never ending cycle of my body ridding itself of everything. I think one of my shoes was in there.

Hmmm.....good old vomit stories.

See, I have shit tons of them. I've done too many drugs and alcohol and my body just hates it. I keep doing it though. Stupid body is going to learn someday. I'll never forget that one time (I tell this story a lot). I was talking to this girl outside...and I was talking about Kristi (this was a long time ago). I stopped mid sentence- threw up- and then finished my sentence. I don't care about it- I blast puke everywhere all the time. It's a good thing I'm not bulimic.

I always despised the idolization of celebrities.
Well, I am about to become a hypocrite. For years, I have loved this woman.
She is my hero. A bitter, cynical, majestic beauty.

Yeah. She's the female version of me, only 30 years older.

http://margagomez.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/jl.jpg

HOTNESS!!!!

I was a cougar cub in summer of 2007.....an experience I look back on in neutrality.

For a mathematician, I am well traveled.

It's like I play video games all the time...but I still get laid and play video games all the time. Especially since I don't even try. They just come find me.
Weird.

Things have been getting weird lately.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2432/3897825772_99e9de296b_b.jpg
Yeah, there is a picture to deter this post....and convert it into a worship post. This man has all my men.

BTW: I think of my synthesizers as guys, whereas others think of possessions as girls. I like being a girls slave, so I think of my possessions as male.

Well, as you know, I am notorious for freaking out, especially when I don't have the whole story.

I came to my previous conclusions that my GPA wasn't high enough to support being REALLY shitty this semester....

Turns out- I can fail ALL my classes and still stay on next semester.
The reason is, is that I never checked my grades from last semester. I thought I sucked....but it turns out...they were all A's and B's.



Well, what I know about that.

Look out, Boone. You got another year of Ryan on your hands.

Acoustic guitar is propagated by many a guitar-playing douche.
That's because it takes a year to learn to play the guitar in the sense that people will yearn to it.
It takes at least 12 years to learn to play the piano in the sense that people will yearn to do it.

I've played the piano for 19 years.
Today I deviated from my 12kb wavetables and 100kb samples (I am a synthesist first).....and indoctrinated a 17MEGABYTE cascading sample of a $76,000 acoustic piano.

And I was home.

I always loved playing acoustic. It struck home. It was on a digital synthesizer, but it sounded to (all but me) like a real piano.

So I re-rendered III in a night "acoustic version". I played a concert of my life's passions to an audience of ZERO. If you are pure, then you will get used to playing to an audience of ZERO, before you get to play to a large audience.

It was home. It was organic.
If I was a low-talented douche...and if my instrument was guitar, I would lure hippy-wannabes to my lair for what I was really after (anything NOT music related).

The first thing you must learn as a musician is that you don't ever get laid if you are a real musician. The fact is that most musicians are the loneliest people in the world, which is why they have the highest rate of suicide (or accidental suicide).
Accidental suicide is being drunk and falling down.....either a balcony, a piece of furniture, or a flight of stairs.

We set our standards so high that we reject what is in front of us and feel so synthetically lonely that we just go on.
If you are like most of my friends, you aren't a musician. You don't spend AT LEAST 2 HOURS EVERY SINGLE DAY PRACTICING.

That's why I downplay most of the efforts of my friends, because I have seen them....they are NOT musicians. If they were musicians, they would talk solely about music or musical instruments on a constant basis....like I do.

I love you guys, but you aren't cut out to be in this world.

If I don't get to practice 2 hours a day, I bitch and moan...because I am a musician.
I know music theory. A lot of popular acts like to downplay the fact that they know music theory, but that is a way to make profits off of non-musicians and get free gear from the companies that sell gear to guys that buy a guitar and play it 3 times for 9 hours and then give up. They get money from these companies.

It's a simple fact. If you are a musician, you'd know it, because you tell your friends lines like these: "If you aren't listening, then you are composing. If you aren't doing either, then you are wasting your time."

You'd know if you are a musician. You'd know....because it is a call to a heart. It started when you were 5 or younger. It developed because your parents couldn't stop you from singing CONSTANTLY until they bought you your first instrument when you were 5.

THAT'S how you know you are a musician.

It just happens. After you turn down an opportunity to lose your V-Card or get laid because you were playing music....and couldn't let go....Then you realize that you are like me. I am a musician. Most of you, aren't. I wasn't born with talent. I became talented because I practiced for hours every single day that the sun shined.

If you are an audio engineer like me, then you hear EVERY song, and can list EVERY piece of equipment used to make that song. That is because you own most of that gear....and you can hear waveforms the way an oscilloscope sees them.

Here's a cheer to my musician friends....none of which I have met in real life, save for my backstage passes.
CHEERS.

My father taught me music. He plays 21 instruments....none of them piano. He has played for 40 years. He is 52.
He has topped the overseas charts and makes $300-$500 a night by playing in his band on his spare time when he is not being a dean. He taught me everything I know.

The coolest part is that he called me and said "Im putting a project together. I'd like YOU to be a part of it."
Unlike the rest of my family, he has supported me "wasting" my money on the 24 synthesizers and workstations and sequencers that reside within my room. He taught me so much...that I impressed so many growing up. When Grandma Frankie died....they had a tequila-music frenzy....because that's how we do it if you're a Candelaria (Native American) You fucking party. At that party, they kept asking "Where is Ryan?" I honestly had to work. If you want to talk about musicianship, there is my family. Half of them are producers. My aunt has produced Garth Brooks for years. The rest have produced more than you could name.
I'm sorry, I might just be an ass because I come from a long line of people of my nature. Therefore I am an authority on the subject. I grew up with it.

Also, if half of your family is music producers, you just might be a musician.

You might live in an apartment with 2 mixers, 4 computers, 6 samplers, 21 synthesizers, and 4 drum machines.....
Either it's in you, or it isn't. If it isn't, then you just cant hang with us.

So....

Me and my neighbor were drinking tonight. She looked at me and she said "I hope you don't think that I am crazy....but I was wondering something."
"What?"
"There are things that are alive in this apartment. They live in the walls...and the ceilings. I hear them at night."
....

Whoa. At that point. I realized there are things in this place.

"I saw people breaking into the attic. I think they were after whatever is inside this building. They weren't exterminators. They were climbing up there at about 3am a few nights ago."

At that point. I realized.....this place is FUCKING WEIRD. It has always been.

There are things about this place that can't be explained.
I opened all entrances, shut out all the lights, and covered all sources of light. I left a bunch of food out in the floor. I left it out there- so that whatever was in this place, would eat it. I left it and stayed at a friends place for three days....and yet...when I returned....It was untouched. I know because I took before and after photos.

In a drunken fit, I deleted them because I thought I was crazy....but I carefully investigated it. Rodents feed in masses and the easiest sign of them is crumbs surrounding a piece of food...because they eat like that. That is a stone cold fact.

This place is haunted by some invisible animals. There are people after them, making them not invisible.
But they are here. There are things here that I can't explain.....even including my years of scientific education. I wasn't studying here to become a career seeker. I was studying here to become a scientist.

Either that, or Me and Lindsay are completely crazy.

Today- I saw my boss get excited...and despised our job at the same time.

Today- I completed the list of all the people I fired and printed out supervisory reasons and coworker complaints with the list...then I finished my month-long ordeal with all the other administrators and supervisors...and COMPLETED THE SCHEDULES. 12 on-campus dining facilities. 700-900 student employees. Turnover factored: 1200.

He looked at them and said "No matter how many years I work here, this is always the most exciting part of the semester."

Then- one of our managers freaked out.
There was a huge argument. It involved herself, her supervisor, her director, and me. It was the Sux0rz.

My boss came back from break and he simply said "I'm glad I was not there."
Then he and I talked about how I am not the best at problem-solving....and how he wasn't either...but when we both are there together- we work out the proper solution, just like our good friends and lunch-buddies down in Human Resources. We are Human Resources, but we are the HR of Student Employment.
Then he looked at me and said "I wish you could work here full time."
Then I looked at the job postings.....and talked to my HR friends.....In the future, there will be an opening, and they would like me to be there.
Food Services wants me, too. They'd like me to sign on as a supervisor.

I know what you are thinking:
$7.25/hr for regular employees, $28,000 for supervisors.....but we work in Food Services.
$11.90/hr for regular employees, $52,000 for supervisors.

It is a corrupt mafia, in all honesty.
If you don't play along, then you get fired. If you just roll with it, then you got a great and supportive family, and lots of benefits.
It's a mess, but you just get used to it. Yeah, there are lies and deceit....but you just go.

But they all love me. Yes, I am an asshole to my students if they are dumb (seriously, I've been to college...and I was NEVER EVER as dumb as these kids).
They might let me go as a part-time temp at $13/hr and then full time for 30-something + benefits.

I'd really like to work here. As much as I HATE TO SAY IT....I love Food Services.
Over the years, they've provided me with food, hot students to have sex with, money, and free slip-resistant shoes. I mean, it is literally the best organization to be with. I also have a lot of kick ass (but VERY DYSFUNCTIONAL) coworkers. I've been threatened, I've been hit, I've been yelled at, but overall- it's been almost as interesting as an epic acid trip.

I called a kid out today. I was about to hire him...and I let him get all the way to the tax forms....then I just said "When was the last time you worked with us?"
S: "Uhh....Fall of 2007"
Me: "Nope. You actually worked with us with my friend Pam down in Sanford Commons where you were fired 2-11-2008 for leaving your post without permission."
S: *freakoutage*
He freaked out and started dancing around, stumbling, trying to come up with an excuse.
Me: "It's OK, If you screw up with Ginger, she'll fire you faster than the rest of us ever could." I did so with a big smile on my face.

Later, my boss came out from behind his wall...and he said "Wow, Jonathan. That was very YOU. It was great."

A cold distant departmental office worker....It's what I saw myself as since I went to the DMV for the first time in the early 2000's.



ALSO:


Is it important that I spent 45 minutes crying about losing the love of my life, but spent 1 1/2 months crying about the loss of Michael Jackson?????

Since then, III has been given enough MJ, Extras, Master and Co., etc influence to make it THAT funky and THAT poppy.

You know, you can make Heroin (my glorious angel) out of poppies!

I am-

Blood
On
The
Dancefloor

Wind of Change.

Things have been REALLY bad lately.
I mean REALLY bad. I don't know what to do anymore.
I might fail out of college.
I have fought constantly with my family. None of them want me around anymore.

THERE. There is the truth.
I got drunk after an argument with my parents...and set off to be an asshole to my friends.
Luckily, for me, I don't have said powers with my friends...They see me being an asshole and just shrug it off as me being Ryan. Yeah, I'm an asshole, but I am really nice at heart.

I AM NICE. To my friends that didn't have my number on my phone....they simply responded with "Who the hell is this?"

They asked that, because Ryan Candelaria doesn't say things like that.....

However....He DOES.....when he's fucked over and is backed into a corner and can't find someone to blame when he's drunk...so he makes stupid decisions. His friends know this and therefore no matter what he says when he's fucked up beyond recognition....they just dismiss it as "Oh, Ryan's drunk and dumb"...and that's why I love my friends.....They are the only people I could ever love.

Things are really bad right now......REALLY FUCKING BAD. It's the worst thing I've ever experienced. I am in a corner...and I feel that there is no way out. It's over, my friends. Please play my music when I'm gone.

I just can't do it anymore.

The one that I loved has gone away. The one who I had the most memorizing time with that dates to 2 years ago....Beth.

It's just over. I'm about to fail out of school and lose my job. I just don't have anything going for me. As of December, I will have to tell my parents that I will be living at home for a long time...and they are to pay the thousands upon thousands of dollars to cover the money that I've wasted all these years.

I don't know what the hell to do. I've promised myself that I would not let myself live to see this day.

Every single night I am kept awake thinking of said day.

In all honesty, I want to just max out my grant money before the university catches onto me....and buy a pistol...and point it at my brain stem.
I am thinking of selling off all my synths. Someone living should have them.
I am alone. I AM ALONE. You all knew that you couldn't reach me via cell phone...but did ANYONE think to reach me by EMAIL or LJ...something that I actually check on a regular basis?

It hurts. No matter how much I cut myself or get drunk every single night...it just wont go away. This is serious pain...and it needs to be dealt with via suicide.

I am sorry, guys.

I wont live to see the year 2010.

JUST PLEASE....take care of my music and my synthesizers.
Just wipe the contents of my skull off of them and give them a good home.

This is not an attention ploy...it is simply here to give you something to look back on when you hear my name on the ASU obituaries.

THIS IS IT.

I am going to lie to my family and tell them that I am coming home for Christmas. I will tell them that I will be there soon, but I wont ever leave this apartment. The first week I moved here, I had constant nightmares about dying in this room.....and now I see that those weren't nightmares....they were visions of the future.

Where is the sun
That shone on my head
The sun in my life
It is dead
It is dead
Where is the light
That would play
In my streets
And where are the friends
I could meet
I could meet

Where are the girls
I left all behind
The spicks and the specks
Of the girls on my mind
Where is the sun
That shone on my head
The sun in my life
It is dead
It is dead

Where are the girls
I left all behind
The spicks and the specks
Of the girls on my mind

Where is the girl I loved
All along
The girl that I loved
Shes gone
Shes gone

All of my life
I call yesterday
The spicks and the specks
Of my life ve gone away
All of my life
I call yesterday
The spicks and the specks
Of my life ve gone away


September 1966. The Bee Gees.

A: I think there are rats in my place.
B: They tell me that I am crazy
C: I might be hallucinating.

So I did the ULTIMATE TEST.

I shut off all the lights, and placed food at random places throughout the room.
I made note of the food and took photos.

I put them near the hole in the wall...and all the places where I swore I saw them.

I left for 24 hours. I turned off the plant lights and kept the blinds shut...so that it was dark, quiet, and night-time. That is the time when they are active.
I left so much bait that SOME of it had to be fucked with if there were rats in my place.

I came back.

THERE WAS NOTHING. NOTHING WAS MOVED OR EATEN OR CHANGED WHATSOEVER.

Now, this is a big sign going up and saying "Ryan, you are crazy"

But I am NOT crazy! I am NOT CRAZY!
So I think they might be aliens or something else.
Now, I hate to sound like my mom, cause she's got aliens living in her head.

What if I am going crazy? I am not talking about fun or weird crazy- but legitimate coo-coo-house crazy?

I am freaking out even more.

You make me feel alive.
1: My friends
2: My music.

I had an awesome time with Dustan and Annie Pugh and Brittany and Adam and Dan and the rest of the gang.

There is something that the rest don't really like, even though they pretend to sometimes, cause they know I take it very personally.

The music.
That's where it is.

It's about finding a song....one of only 6-12 copies in existence. Some European guys singing along to a PPG Wave 2.2 and a Yamaha DX-7 and Roland Juno 106. The vocals are so poorly mastered because they were recorded in some dudes living room or garage or closet....and the synths were patched in directly. It was dirty- poorly made...and poorly mastered...and an example in the eyes of modern audio engineering of how NOT to make a song....but I think that is the REAL way to make song.

That's how I am going to produce....just like they did...with lots of MIDI gear and cheap microphones.

Specialized cheap computerized sequencers and event generators....

WOW. That's the way to do it.

I love them all- I keep finding them all- no matter how rare they are- I ALWAYS find them and each one is different in my eyes.
They sound the same to the untrained ear.

It's so rare, but I have so much of it- it's not rare to me.
I got it from friends overseas.

Tonight:
I love you, Laser.
That's right, a band named Laser. I got their unreleased album 2 nights ago.

I love you, Laser.

Arpeggios, Blues improv, jazz, Euro-Italo sound (1984), vocoders, PPGs out the wazoo!
I <3 you Laser!