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Have you ever wanted to find someone attractive?  I mean, you meet a girl you think is maybe kinda cute, but you're not that drawn to her at first.  Only she starts to look a little better each time you see her, and you begin convincing yourself that she's not that bad looking...and then after a few weeks, she's looks like Natalie Portman's second cousin.  My friends and I used to call this the "summer job theory," back in the days when we somehow ended up working at places like Bed Bath & Beyond or Linens 'N Things (linked only because one of the cashiers still gives me an employee discount after like nine years -- good times!).

Actually, working there was less coincidence than design, since you can guess which segment of the population shops at department stores the most.  That's right, middle-aged housewives...er, I mean, college-bound girls who'll do anything for a 20% off coupon...and by anything, I mean let you talk to them for a few minutes without turning away in disgust.  Sorry, I lost my train of thought... Oh, right, the theory -- the real reason we called it that is because there was always some girl that worked in your department that fit the profile perfectly.  By the end of the summer, after spending so many late nights helping her close the store and restock the shelves, she really grew on you.  Why do I mention this now?  Because there are no crazy hot girls on my floor...but there's one that's kinda sorta cute.  I've been working in my new building for about two weeks....so she's now escalated to "borderline sexy" status.  Even though I'm well aware of what's happening, I'm powerless to stop it.  This can only end badly.

The other object of my daily fascination is the work of a profound 12-year-old, who I will refer to as Tonnie.  That's right, it's the Reptile of Trust.  I really wish I could provide a link to the full page version so that you could experience the brilliance in all its glory, but this is the best I can do right now.  Anyways, this masterpiece used to hang outside of my old building, and brought joy to my world, as well that of countless others, on a daily basis.  Unfortunately, it was taken down shortly before I moved to my current office, and all I have left is a black-and-white printout hanging above my desk.   I like to imagine that it somehow protects me from evil...or something like that.

Why do I love it so much, you ask?  I'm not really sure, and I don't want to diminish it by listing pointless reasons.  Plus, my limited vocabulary would not do it justice.  It's simple, and yet unfathomably complex; it's absurd but spectacularly awesome all at once.  I hope to one day understand what went on inside the artist's head during its conception...

Oh, and there's a poem that I inexplicably missed, which brought the R.O.T. to a new level when finally I read it.  I will now recite it by heart (that's a lie, I only know the soon-to-be-historic second line):

Dear Anger:

Sometimes I can control you
but sometimes you are
uncontrollable.
You get on my nerves, but then again, you are
my nerves. 
I try to get rid of you but
you keep coming back. 
I just want you to know
you can't control me
anymore.

Wow.  If you're not moved by this, you're not human.

How can someone half my age be so much deeper and more profound?  I bow to the power of the Reptile of Trust, and Tonnie, the boy/girl genius whose fingertips created magic on a fateful Saturday afternoon.