I stare intently at the three boxes in front of me. I have been doing so for the past fifteen minutes or so. My eyes shift slowly from one box to the other, contemplating it's contents and reading yet again the fine print before moving to the next.

Why are decision so darn hard to make sometimes?

Like that time with Grandma's dog. Teh Evil Chihuahua. Well, actually his name is Chiquitin, but same difference.

Anyway, the evil little thing greets me every day with snarls, growls and high pitched annoying little barks that either follow me all the way up to my room, or all the way to my car. Grandma lives next door, you see. Unfortunately so. Because of the dog, of course. I love her. I really do. I just hate her dog. Dogs, now. Chiquitin's mother gave birth not too long ago. Yet again.

So anyway, the dog clearly hates me. And I hate him. But for the sake of my grandmother, and my undying love for her, I tolerate Teh Evil Chihuahua. Until the other day...

My mother, oh, bless her soul, wanted to send grandma some money, but because she shares the same feelings I have for Grandma's dog, she didn't want to personally deliver it. So, she sends me instead.

Now, I could have very well kept the money and not have to brave the stupid chihuahua at all, but that would have been wrong. So you see, the right choice was easy to determine, but super hard to make. Hence, I had a huge dilema.

Of course, because my heart is far too big, and the fact that the guilt of keeping the money would have eaten me alive, I decided to just brave the dog and deliver the money.

My God, was that a nightmare. Stupid dog almost ripped my pants to shreds. I promised myself that next time I had to come face to face with the little devil incanate I'd be armed with a loaded water gun. Squirt that sucker to kindom come if he even so much as breathed on me.

Ew.

But anyway. We now come to my current decision making dilema. What kind of brownie to bake.

There's the regular brownie (less calories), dark chocolate brownie (euphoria heaven), and triple chocolate brownie with chunks of chocolate chips (need I say more?). Golly gee, was this a hard decision to make.

"Whatcha doing?" my brother suddenly asks behind me. Almost startling me. Almost.

"I don't know which one to bake," I say in a very anguished voice as I show him the three boxes.

"Oh, that's easy," he says as he turns to leave the kitchen. "Bake all of them."

Oh my Gosh! Why hadn't I thought of that?

"In the end," he adds, "You'll still be fat."

My decision suddenly became very clear at that moment.

I will bake the triple chocolate brownies with the chocolate chips and will make sure that they're super moist and that the chocolate is nice and melted. That way when I hurl the entire thing (except the small piece I will save for myself) at my brother's face, it'll not only make a very satisfying "splat," it will also stick gooey-ly in all the right places.

What had I been complaining about? Decisions are super easy to make!

~Gisela

On the 27th day of this month I will unfortunately turn twenty-seven.

Interestingly enough, the Yankee's won the world series for the 27th time this month too. Isn't that a fabulous coincidence?

Disgracinly enough, though, I will most likely be single again. For God knows how long. But relationships are overrated. Single life is fun. And full of freedom. Or at least that's what I'm trying to convince myself into believing to make the fact that I'll be single again a little easier to deal with.

Life is great and full of wonderful surprises and disappointments. While you'll feel that your fortune may have turned sour, a little patience will show that in the end, it was worth it.

Unfortunately, the fortune of the beautiful green eyed girl in Chillin', my in progress digital work of art, may be a bit sour for a while. I haven't worked on the poor thing for ages now. I think it's time I get to it...

I wonder how I will fair once I begin my career as an artist. I spend the total amount of roughtly seven to 14 months on a single work of art. Usually, anyway.

I sense that I'm going to be very poor for a very, very long time before I'm rich. /If/ I ever get rich, that is.

Oh, dear.