NEW SERIES: Hey Reagan, Why Are You Crying? June 27, 2014

Reagan Ward lives in New York and feels a lot of feelings. 

- Isaiah Austin was an honorary draft into the NBA
- The people at Starbucks this morning were incredibly kind and patient with a man with a severe stutter.

It All Comes Back Around

This weekend my friends are gathering to celebrate the life of Christopher Yasick. It breaks my heart that I’m not there to do the same, but I’m there in spirit and I know they’ll share a few hugs with each other on my behalf. But almost six months later and I think I’m ready to remember him here.

Chris Yasick was a rare type. He was amazing. Shy at first, but impossibly loyal. He was also one of the kindest human beings I ever met. And thoughtful. He had quirks that made you love him so much. He put his whole self into everything. He was stubborn and hard headed. He hated asking for anything, so much that once after breaking his foot, he walked to work the next day before finally caving in and going to the doctor. He’d get belligerent on gin and loose on rum, but was usually just happy to have a few beers and talk about LOST. He was the guy you always wanted to have around.

He was the type of person who was good at everything but never talked about it. In between an engineering degree, he picked up photography and got really, really good at it. He knew that experiences were more important than possessions and he traveled the world more than once with friends and family. He was well-respected in his industry even after such a short time and was already set to give lectures at conferences the way you imagine a person in business would as a kid. He was never too busy, too cool, too broke, or too anything to be there when you needed him.

After he lost his father in March, he made it a point to visit everyone down in Austin. We celebrated his birthday and embarrassed him over cookie cake. We saw the Alamo. We ate chicken and talked about old we were getting. He was one of my favorite people on the planet and the world was better with him in it.

Since he passed away in October, not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him at least once. He shows up in little ways and big ways. I feel like he’s looking out for us and I feel like he’s helped us look out more for each other, too. I like to imagine him and his dad hanging out, sailing around the ocean on an ornate pirate ship, taking pictures and talking about LOST. I bet they’ve even found the plane by now.

In college when we’d get together, when it came time to pay a bill, or buy drinks for a party, or meat for a BBQ, if it ever came out that Chris paid a little more, he wouldn’t ever accept a few more bucks to even it out. He’d respond the same way, every time. A shake of his hand and an “it all comes back around.” I’ve caught myself saying this recently over little gestures. Something you’ll never miss but can make someone’s day. Put a little kindness into the world, get a little kindness back. Live like Chris.

I miss you, friend. I miss you every single day. 

Here’s to good friends living large in Texas.

Texas Forever.




How To Do Anything In New York: Eat at a Pizza Parlor

I recently moved to New York and I’m learning pretty quickly that there’s a  particular way people go about things. This is a silly new series about picking things up along the way. DISCLAIMER: This is not the only way to eat at a pizza parlor, but it is definitely a way to eat at a pizza parlor.


** Today’s post was born from someone sitting in the “do not sit” seat indicated in step three.

A note on goodbyes and saying them.

I found this in my drafts folder and I don’t remember when I wrote it. I have a rough idea, but not completely sure. Anyway, I thought I’d go ahead and post it.

This week, I said three goodbyes to people who have been very incredibly important in my life over the past year. Each one took its toll in a different way, despite knowing that I would still be seeing two of the goodbye recipients regularly. I don’t know what it is about proximity that makes a lack of it so hard to deal with.

The difficulty of the goodbyes has made me realize how much I want to keep everyone I meet that plays a role in my life close. But more importantly, it’s made me realize that isn’t an option.

I ended the week with a well-placed reunion of friends from college. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen some of them, but we all fell right back into place.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, goodbyes are only permanent if you let them be.

Jerry Maguire

If you ever feel like asking me something, feel free to do so in the “ask me anything” section. I don’t plug it often, but I think answering more questions would be fun. I’m pretty okay at advice and stuff. Also, it’s a lazy person’s way of making me write more. So, help me help you.


And tonight on the train, the opposite of last night on the train, when you get so irritated at your fellow commuters that all you can think about is filling the train with spite farts and then the thought of THAT makes it impossible to be mad at the stupid guy in the stupid hat with the stupid facial hair.

So there’s that, too.


Tonight on the train there was an older woman standing around one of the vertical poles. She looked so fragile that a breath in the wrong direction might’ve broken her bones and I wondered why she was standing. It was a crowded train and I found myself right next to her. I spent the next twenty blocks trying to figure out how to stand so that if the train jolted, I’d fall backwards instead of in her direction. The pressure started to get to be too much for me and I considered getting off at the next stop and waiting for the next train. I keep casting glances at people in seats wondering how long this woman has been standing and how many people saw her without getting up. As I scanned the row, I realized probably none of them. Asleep. Game. Game. Game. Asleep. Bent completely in half. No one was paying attention. Then I decided I wouldn’t get off. At this point, it was my duty to protect this woman. No one else standing next to her would do it with as much care. She’d be crushed in no time. From this point until the time she got off, which I guessed correctly was at 96th street, she would be my charge. I would look out for her since no one else would. I kept getting angry. And then sad. I got really sad. And then she got off the train and carried on with her life and probably didn’t realize I was tied up in knots over her.

Anyway, this is probably why I’m stressed out so much.

"I enjoy being characters rather than myself. If I had to get up and talk in front of a group of people just as myself, I would be terrified. I get a little anxious, I guess. But if I’m on stage in front of hundreds of people and I am a character doing a monologue, I’m totally fine."- Kristen Wiig 

"I enjoy being characters rather than myself. If I had to get up and talk in front of a group of people just as myself, I would be terrified. I get a little anxious, I guess. But if I’m on stage in front of hundreds of people and I am a character doing a monologue, I’m totally fine."- Kristen Wiig


(via jsudeikis)