I love burritos.

Wrap a chewy tortilla around a slopful of sticky beans, blackened chicken, and creamy guacamole and that’s a pretty fine lunch. Hey, squirt some sour cream in there, sprinkle grated cheese, and splat some salsa on and you just made it better.

Burritos are so delicious that I eat them as fast as possible. I don’t talk, I don’t blink, and I don’t breathe during my super-fast-super-chomp moments of gobbling down the goods. By the end I’m a heavy breathing mess with salsa streaks down my chin, rogue tin foil scraps on my shirt, and sweat dripping down my forehead.

I know it sounds like a pretty picture but the truth is I start filling with regret at this point. After all, I mean — I probably just parted with eight or nine bucks and the five-minute chowdown doesn’t seem worth the fat lump sitting my stomach. It’s a thousand calories for five minutes of tastiness. Somehow the math just doesn’t add up.

But that’s what makes it so great when a Burrito Ghost joins me about two hours later in the form of a deep burp  from 20,000 leagues deep in my stomach. Suddenly splashy scents of chopped tomatoes, cilantro-sprinkled rice, and spicy salsa join me for a brief reminder of the World’s Most Delicious Lunch.

Burgers, bruschetta, garlic bread — it doesn’t matter. Those flavor memories combine to form some serious meal nostalgia.

Oh sure, your snobby friends may say it’s disgusting.

But we all know it’s

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

You just sounded like a pig.

AWESOME!

It’s like throat glue.

After you finish scraping the chocolate icing off the plate and fingering up every last crumb, it suddenly hits you that your entire face and mouth is smeared with the brown and pasty. Molars have new chocolate fillings, lips are smeared with sugary icing, and your whole throat is coated in a thin layer of the moist and delicious dessert.

Lean back on your creaky kitchen chair and feel the brown sugary molecules filling every crack and corner of your mouth. Rub your tongue around, close your eyes, and maybe swish your spit around for a l’il bit of homemade chocolate pudding.

And then get ready.

Because now it’s time to chug.

Pour a glass of ice-cold milk and send that White Rushing River screaming down your throat. Feel the cold rip into your cheeks and teeth and let those creamy rapids wash all the guilt away.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

Welcome to the place where nobody knows your name.

1. The Boring Party. You’re watching Saturday Night Live on the couch or hanging by the punch table at prom while everyone else dances up a sweat to The Power, Informer, or Pump Up The Jam across the room. When that other guy plops on the couch or your fellow nerd in a math-themed T-shirt pulls up for a handful of chips, you know you just met your conversation buddy for the next hour.

2. The Wrong Age. Dragged to mom’s book club because the babysitter cancelled last minute, you were expecting a warm cup of grape juice and four boring hours in someone’s rocking-chair and doily-filled living room. But then another misplaced kid arrives, too! Since they also have no intention of discussing underlying themes of lust in The Handmaid’s Tale, you bond for an afternoon full of new toys and maybe The Neverending Story on TV.

3. The Office Social. You’re the new guy in accounts payable at the quarterly meeting or the fresh-faced college grad in a roomful of old farts. Since you don’t know anyone else it’s great when someone in the same boat swims up to you near the empty chairs at the back. Neither of you know anything so you get to figure it out together.

Yes, there’s something sweet about becoming friends with the other guy who doesn’t know anyone here. Sure, maybe circumstances threw your friendship together but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. Life is short, delicate, and fragile and some insta-bonding is good for the soul. Use all your old jokes, be a new you, and enjoy those short and simple moments with someone you’ve never seen before.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

There’s always one.

It’s the lady who’s been there since the war with glasses perched on her nose and the framed photo of her kids from twenty years ago on her desk. Sure, she might have gray hair, she might have wrinkles, but nobody’s better at keeping this place together.

First of all, she’s mind-spinningly fast when it comes to simple tasks that trip people up like double-sided photocopying while filling the legal-sized paper tray or figuring out which key belongs to this stupid locked filing cabinet.

She keeps the top brass organized so well that it usually becomes a joke with lines like: “We’d be lost without Cindy!”, “Sam runs this place!”, or “If Barb goes on vacation, it would be chaos!”

These lines are usually funny until Barb goes on vacation. And it is chaos. That’s when the lunch meeting has no lunch, there’s no laptop for the big presentation, and the expense reports don’t get filed because a haystack of crinkly receipts are just piling up on her desk.

Now apparently the origin of secretary comes from our great-grandpals in the 1300s who referred to them as “one trusted with private or secret matters.” These days not much has changed as they’re often the only ones with access to the goods to get things done.

Today we say thanks to that secretary who actually runs things around here.

You make our school, and office, and life

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

AWESOME!

Way to cut out the middleman.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

You’re the master wiggler.

Nice move loosening that awkwardly-curled delicious pink meat from the plasticy trappings of its own tail. Now you’ve increased your shrimp intake and can rest knowing the shrimp’s life was made entirely useful.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, shrimp to

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

Toast gets cold fast.

I’m reminded of this nearly every morning after I toss a couple scrambled eggs onto a plate and then mindlessly chomp into the cold and crumby jam-smeared bread that’s been lying around for a couple minutes.

Do you have issues like I have issues?

Hands up if you’ve ever watched your veggies get cold while the pot roast kept roasting, or served some hot, piping garlic bread before waiting thirty minutes for the lasagna to finish. Yes, eating the side dish long before the meal ranks up there on 1000 Annoying Things, that non-existent netherlist that also includes #983 Peeling off a band-aid that’s stuck to your arm hair, #982 When full hugs meet side hugs, and #981 Clogging someone else’s toilet.

And that’s why it’s so great when everything you’re cooking gets done all at once. When microwaves ding and ovens chime and everything is ready all at the same time, well that’s an itty bitty moment of bliss and a great big feeling of

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

I live in a tall apartment building downtown.

Whenever I get home from the office I tap a little gray button thing or ‘fob‘ on my key chain onto the black box sensor near the front door which unlocks it. If I forget my fob, I’m locked out and forced to nonchalantly impersonate a Trustworthy Fellow Tenant until I can squeeze behind someone else. Yes, if you come home and I’m just whistling outside the front doors with my hands in my pockets, nice to meet you! I live here and just happen to be going inside now, too.

Sometimes I’ve actually got my keys and fob with me but they’re buried deep in my backpack or pants pockets and I’ve got my hands completely full of groceries. This is when I employ The Backpack Bump and simply reverse into the sensor over and over until it connects and the door unlocks. It’s a beautiful no-hands move to get me in the door.

Yes, if you’re with me, then you know advanced moves are often required to open security doors without using your hands. In addition to The Backpack Bump, I’ve seen young and old alike pull off The Hip Shimmy, which looks like a jerky country dance move involving your pocket or belt buckle touching the sensor. This one is best done while wearing extremely tight light blue jeans and a plaid shirt tied into a knot at the bottom.

Also, let’s not forget The Head Bow, which is when you’re returning to your college residence and you’ve got your fob hanging around your neck in a jangle of assorted keys and plastic dining hall cards. The Head Bow prevents you from needing to take off the key jangle and your hands can continue munching on your dining hall ice cream cone while text messaging.

Opening security doors without using your hands is an advanced skill that requires minutes of practice. When you finally master these moves it means you’ve become an Apartment Building Jedi.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here