Joyous Jabber

Life can have a threshold of perplexed puzzles and uncertain answers. I wonder if every person on this planet has ever ask themselves the age old question, "what is my purpose in this life". I believe, as human beings, we seek clarity from our personal ambiguities. Inspiration, hope, and the possible reward of self satisfaction manifested into happiness can keep the human spirit youthful and refreshed. I compare seeking personal fulfillment's kindof like making ice tea. First, the tea selection must be decided. Next, the main ingredients must be sought after: sugar, mint, and water. At times the ingredients might not be always available at first hand. A trip to the local convenience store must be made. I personally must make my way down from my comfortable perch on the third floor down two floors to my garage. Entrance into my garage requires a bit of finesse because of the barricade of clutter that awaits on the other side of the garage door. I have to literally push the garage door open and crawl pass the random landfill. Once inside my car, I make the eight minute drive to Albertsons (my local grocery store). An additional three minutes for traffic lights and 2-4 minutes for finding parking might be added to the initial travel time. Not to forget my search for my ice tea ingredients, and standing in the grocery line may bring the total trip time to a whopping 25-30 minute expedition. After the grocery store, I then must reverse my trip back to my home. Finally, back at my third floor apartment, I prepare my ice tea. A precise harmony of water, ice cubes, sugar, and tea flavoring is mixed into a plastic jug. Lastly, I place the tea into the refrigerator for further chilling. Now all that's left is to wait in anticipation for a delicious drink. Twenty minutes later, my hard work and enduring effort created a ice tea worthy of the Gods. I carefully pour that carmel colored passion into a glass.
That first sip...is absoulutely refreshing.

Burrito Bomb.

I feel as bloated as the pocket lining of a heavy wieght oi lcompany CEO. Let me tell you whats lead to this obscure temporary obesity. Earlier this mornig I began my morning off with a good light breakfast. Organic milk and sweet tasting Cinnamon Toast Crunch topped with a side of a nutrigrain bar. I went all day without eating anything. Then the evening suddenly stumble upon my time table and I noticed how hungry I have became. I had a indeniable craving for an over stuffed burrito. I scurried to my gasoline burner destined to satisfy my impulsive needs. I found myself going to Baja Fresh (as mexican as Taco Bell if you ask me) to order a baja chicken and a fish taco. I rushed home, washed my hands and devoured the heavy burrito and fishy taco. I must say it left a lingering sensation of an anatomical gridlock within my belly. Even at this very moment as I type these words, I feel the disgusting fatty aftermath. Hence, the Burrito Bomb. Sits heavy, and requires plenty of sit-ups.

The Sock Bandit's crime spree.

It's that time of year when I begin my spring cleaning. I like to start early since it takes me a couple of months to meticulously rumage through my "has" and "has beens". It's not like I have a wordrobe of personal possesions that rivals Paris Hiltons' emmense closets. I just like to take the time and give in to my primitive habit of procrastination ( not as damaging when cleaning my closet). First, I began with the relocation my books (stacked in front of my bed underneath my televison table) onto my shelf within the closet. What's next? Like a chess game, I methodically plan my next great move. I try to visualize two, three, or even five moves ahead. I mentally disseminate. Okay, (I tell myself) I could start with the clothes folded nicley which layed (by my lovely wife I might add) upon the floor, and place them inside my portable plastic drawers. Or, (I pondered) I could hang my cream colored sweater that my sweet grandmother-in-law bought me last Christmas. I decided to honor my new blood, and hang the soft sweater. I'm making progress I tell myself. A quick scan of my closet, still a mess. Then it accours to me. My plastic drawers look like their vomiting fabric. I try to refold my unorganized heap and notice this wasn't a plausible solution. The problem, too much cloth not enough drawer realty. Now I know what must be done, purge the unused and unwanted. I start with my sock drawer. One by one I go through each sock, wait a minute?! Why are the majority of my socks suddenly single and ready to mingle? Long socks matched with short stubby ankle socks, and stubby ankle socks matched with thick winter socks. An infidelitous orgy of feet warmers caressing each other in blissful awkwardness. I wonder how such an magical conspiracy managed to manifest right beneath my nose (literally). Only one thing to blame...that Fucking Sock Bandit!