Status: Updated regularly (every other day or so)
The Fueled By Ramen Analysis
Fueled By Ramen's Psychologist
“Please continue,” I said.
“Well you remember how we met right?” he asked.
“Of course how could I forget?”
________
It was about two years ago and I was in Chicago visiting Chad, after he had acquired the position of being top chef at this one four star restaurant. On one of the nights that Chad had to work late, I ventured into one Chi-town’s many parks. As I was admiring the leftover patches of snow from the storm just days before, I noticed Pete – without knowing who he was- on a bench, sniffling. I sat myself next to him and handed him a tissue pack from my purse.
“Thank you,” he said, blowing his nose.
“Anytime. You know… it might make you feel better to tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help you or if not that, it might help you feel better, knowing that you don’t have that burden of carrying a secret only you know.”
“I’m sorry, but why would I tell a random stranger what’s going on in my life?” he asked.
“Well from past experiences, by telling strangers my problems, I could tell them everything without fluffing it up or changing the story at all. Cause you know what? Chances were I was never going to see that person again. They couldn’t judge me, they’re opinions didn’t really matter, if I disagreed with them and most importantly it was just so much easier talking about my problems with strangers than with others.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you tell strangers your problems on a regular basis?” he asked skeptically.
“Not exactly, it was a project we had to do at school, where we talked with various people we’ve never spoken to before,” I answered.
“Well I guess it’s worth a shot. Umm well it all started when…” Pete began. He talked and talked for what could have been hours. He told me about all his past relationships and how they never seemed to work, how he almost committed suicide by overdosing, and how his job was taking it’s toll on him; yet he still loved it. I learned so much about him and by the time he was done, I had wrapped him in a hug and let him cry on my shoulder for the umpteenth time.
“Shhh,” I said, rubbing his back. “It’s okay to cry ummm…. Uhh what should I call you?”
“Pete,” he sniffled. “And you?”
“Chelsea. Well Pete, to me it seems like you’ve been through so much in so little time. You’ve been through situations that no one should ever go through but then again you’ve also survived all of those things stronger than ever. Everything happens for a reason and you were put on this Earth for a reason, whether you believe in God or not, it honestly doesn’t matter. Pete, you have a purpose in life and you will find that special someone soon enough. Fuck all those girls that used you and shattered you. They definitely don’t deserve you and sooner or later that one girl will just walk right into your life and you may not notice it at first, but she’ll be the one…” I went on and on, giving him comfort and words of advice and my honest opinion of everything he’s been through.
“Thank you so much, Chelsea,” he said towards the end of our conversation. “I know I meant for you to stay as a stranger in the beginning, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Is there any chance that we could exchange numbers and maybe have lunch tomorrow? I want you to meet my band mates.”
And from then on I became Peter Wentz’s confidant and best friend, along with being all of Fall Out Boy’s go to girl for advice.
______
“Chelsea May… are you still there?” Pete asked, waving a hand in front of my face.
“Umm yeah, sorry about that,” I apologized after he had knocked me out of my flashback.
“Well, you have a Ph D in Psychology now, and you’ve helped me, along with everyone else here through so many rough times and I was just wondering could you be Fueled By Ramen’s psychologist?” he asked nervously.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” I exclaimed. “No way?!”
“Yes way!” he smiled. “Can I take that as a yes?”
“Well first I need to know what this job has in store for me. Like what will I be doing? Where will I be going? What are my benefits?” I asked him.
“On top of hanging out with me and all my sexy label mates, you’ll have the opportunity of having at the very least monthly sessions with each member of every band on FBR and a monthly group session with the whole band. You’ll have to relocate to Chicago, and I’ve already asked your parents for you and they’re okay with it. Fueled By Ramen will pay for your apartment and fully furnish it to your liking. Of course you get to keep the BMW and yeah,” he answered, joining his hands together.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why does FBR need a psychologist?” I asked, thinking this was all too good to be true.
“Well as you know from what I’ve told you and from what these knuckleheads have confided in you, being in a band is very stressful especially when it comes to tour time and recording. The execs thought it would be a great idea to get a psychologist for our own personal use so that we don’t get any depressed band members and so that the bands don’t start falling apart over something silly,” explained Pete. “They wanted to already hire someone a few months back, but I stopped them, telling them I knew the perfect person for the job but she just had to graduate first. They were skeptical at first, but after I told them you were top of your class, skipped a few grades in elementary and college, and you had helped Fall Out Boy and me countless times; their minds quickly changed. Oh and I may have told them to help chip in to buy you that BMW as a bribe or someone else might try and steal you before we could get our two cents in.”
“You’re definitely something else Wentz,” I smiled. “I’ll take it!”
I attacked him in a bone-crushing hug and proceeded to do the same with everyone else at our table.
“I absolutely love you guys,” I sighed.
“Well you remember how we met right?” he asked.
“Of course how could I forget?”
________
It was about two years ago and I was in Chicago visiting Chad, after he had acquired the position of being top chef at this one four star restaurant. On one of the nights that Chad had to work late, I ventured into one Chi-town’s many parks. As I was admiring the leftover patches of snow from the storm just days before, I noticed Pete – without knowing who he was- on a bench, sniffling. I sat myself next to him and handed him a tissue pack from my purse.
“Thank you,” he said, blowing his nose.
“Anytime. You know… it might make you feel better to tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help you or if not that, it might help you feel better, knowing that you don’t have that burden of carrying a secret only you know.”
“I’m sorry, but why would I tell a random stranger what’s going on in my life?” he asked.
“Well from past experiences, by telling strangers my problems, I could tell them everything without fluffing it up or changing the story at all. Cause you know what? Chances were I was never going to see that person again. They couldn’t judge me, they’re opinions didn’t really matter, if I disagreed with them and most importantly it was just so much easier talking about my problems with strangers than with others.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you tell strangers your problems on a regular basis?” he asked skeptically.
“Not exactly, it was a project we had to do at school, where we talked with various people we’ve never spoken to before,” I answered.
“Well I guess it’s worth a shot. Umm well it all started when…” Pete began. He talked and talked for what could have been hours. He told me about all his past relationships and how they never seemed to work, how he almost committed suicide by overdosing, and how his job was taking it’s toll on him; yet he still loved it. I learned so much about him and by the time he was done, I had wrapped him in a hug and let him cry on my shoulder for the umpteenth time.
“Shhh,” I said, rubbing his back. “It’s okay to cry ummm…. Uhh what should I call you?”
“Pete,” he sniffled. “And you?”
“Chelsea. Well Pete, to me it seems like you’ve been through so much in so little time. You’ve been through situations that no one should ever go through but then again you’ve also survived all of those things stronger than ever. Everything happens for a reason and you were put on this Earth for a reason, whether you believe in God or not, it honestly doesn’t matter. Pete, you have a purpose in life and you will find that special someone soon enough. Fuck all those girls that used you and shattered you. They definitely don’t deserve you and sooner or later that one girl will just walk right into your life and you may not notice it at first, but she’ll be the one…” I went on and on, giving him comfort and words of advice and my honest opinion of everything he’s been through.
“Thank you so much, Chelsea,” he said towards the end of our conversation. “I know I meant for you to stay as a stranger in the beginning, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Is there any chance that we could exchange numbers and maybe have lunch tomorrow? I want you to meet my band mates.”
And from then on I became Peter Wentz’s confidant and best friend, along with being all of Fall Out Boy’s go to girl for advice.
______
“Chelsea May… are you still there?” Pete asked, waving a hand in front of my face.
“Umm yeah, sorry about that,” I apologized after he had knocked me out of my flashback.
“Well, you have a Ph D in Psychology now, and you’ve helped me, along with everyone else here through so many rough times and I was just wondering could you be Fueled By Ramen’s psychologist?” he asked nervously.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” I exclaimed. “No way?!”
“Yes way!” he smiled. “Can I take that as a yes?”
“Well first I need to know what this job has in store for me. Like what will I be doing? Where will I be going? What are my benefits?” I asked him.
“On top of hanging out with me and all my sexy label mates, you’ll have the opportunity of having at the very least monthly sessions with each member of every band on FBR and a monthly group session with the whole band. You’ll have to relocate to Chicago, and I’ve already asked your parents for you and they’re okay with it. Fueled By Ramen will pay for your apartment and fully furnish it to your liking. Of course you get to keep the BMW and yeah,” he answered, joining his hands together.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why does FBR need a psychologist?” I asked, thinking this was all too good to be true.
“Well as you know from what I’ve told you and from what these knuckleheads have confided in you, being in a band is very stressful especially when it comes to tour time and recording. The execs thought it would be a great idea to get a psychologist for our own personal use so that we don’t get any depressed band members and so that the bands don’t start falling apart over something silly,” explained Pete. “They wanted to already hire someone a few months back, but I stopped them, telling them I knew the perfect person for the job but she just had to graduate first. They were skeptical at first, but after I told them you were top of your class, skipped a few grades in elementary and college, and you had helped Fall Out Boy and me countless times; their minds quickly changed. Oh and I may have told them to help chip in to buy you that BMW as a bribe or someone else might try and steal you before we could get our two cents in.”
“You’re definitely something else Wentz,” I smiled. “I’ll take it!”
I attacked him in a bone-crushing hug and proceeded to do the same with everyone else at our table.
“I absolutely love you guys,” I sighed.