As a planted seed...

I would love to say that my day was full of crazy adventures; that I climbed a mountain or ran a marathon; that I saved a child's life with my surgical expertise, or created some sort of affordable prosthetic that trumped nature's original design. I would like to report of my courage and bravery and boast of supreme daring when faced with my own mortality. I would like to, but alas, I cannot. My story is one of a much subtler nature. While I, unfortunately, cannot claim to wrestle life's intensities, I have a story nonetheless. Brace yourselves, and remember to not only engage in my wonderfully crafted tales, but also to look betwixt and beneath the text so that you may wrap your mind around their true message.

"Two eggs--two eggs, one orange package of dried noodles, and two cups of water is all it takes for palatial greatness," I would have said to Mike, only I told him yesterday, and the day before that of the amazing quality product Marauchen peddles, just to be informed that my buddy Ramen had been making shady deals with a chemical known by the name of MSG. This time I just watched the water boil. If I was going to make a rendez-vous with Ramen, it would be made with intentional ignorance.

As I gazed into the bubbling water, feeling the steam rise to my face I noticed a baby on the floor to my left. Clark, as we like to call him, was making bubbly noises with his lips while attempting to climb up the refrigerator. A master of the baby chub and the slobber stain, Clark had yet to find his niche in the art of standing. Mike rushed from his computer station to gently set him back on the floor, which apparently was just an invitation to attempt the refrigerator tripod again. Shortly after, Clark found himself in his playpen. Clark forgot his pal refrigerator.

I enjoyed Ramen's company until all his broth was gone, and I returned to my work station. A tortoise and a squirrel were suspended mid stroke underneath a brightly-colored river trying to swim across my screen. I picked up my wacom pen, and resumed my painting, all the while awaiting my next meeting with Ramen and pondering what role he would play in my future. Supposing Mike and I succeeded in our plans, would I trade Ramen for a Subway hoagie, or maybe a spaghetti and clams at the local bistro...nah, we had something special, something real, we had...history.