Perception vs. Reality

Perception is a mighty super-hero.  Perception wears a cape, has laser vision, super-strength, the ability to change shape and be invisible.  Perception can fly.  Perception wears spandex well and is charming enough to get away with being kinda jerky at times. Perception shakes babies and kisses hands and signs autographs for swooning, pimply faced fans of all ages.  Perception brings home the bacon, does her own taxes, sets tables like Martha Stewart, cooks like Alton Brown, cleans like a Merry Maid and does it all with Donna Reed style, by which I obviously mean in pearls, heels and perfectly straight stockings, probably with a frilly little apron she made herself.

Reality is a frumpy accountant.  In a suit.  With an attaché case and loafers.

As far as showdowns go, it's easy to see this one isn't really even a fair fight.  It's not an exciting duel between equals.  It's a merciless slaughter.  No epic battle to the death, just a swift death with no pomp or circumstance, no weeping maidens, no brave men enduring with stoic dignity.  No ticker tape parade for the victor.  Not even a congratulatory handshake from a grateful public official. 

See, it goes like this:

The Glorious Snooze Button

The snooze button is something that can destroy relationships.  Thankfully, both my husband & I are huge fans.  We like to snooze for extended periods of time, which in our house means more than half an hour. 

But yesterday, the weirdest thing happened.  I slept.  Real sleep.  See, for my husband to be at work by 5, he needs to leave the house by 4:30, so he needs to get out of bed between 4 and 4:15, so he sets his alarm for about 3:45, which means I set mine for 3:30 so I can help him wake up.  Usually, once he's out of the bed, I stretch out and suck up all the warmth he left behind, then get up, feed pets, check e-mail, and stuff, then about 6 when I start to get sleepy again, head back to bed for a nap until 8ish, when I get up and get moving so I can get to the office by 10, work until 6, then head out the door to my rehearsals, meetings, dinner dates, whatever that usually start about 7.  It's brilliant.  Of course, on days when I don't have to be anywhere at 7, I try to skip my 6-8 nap and just head in to the office and be done early, but 6 am is also just when the kitties get snuggly again, so trying to resist the siren call of an empty bed with warm kitties is often more than my feeble will power can take. 

Only that didn't happen yesterday. 

from cassette to jump drive

So, I'll be dating myself a little bit here, but that's ok. Since when have I ever been shy? (ok, one time when I was four meeting some of my parents friends for approximately 5 minutes.)

The first tape I ever bought--with my allowance money--was Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine. Yep. There it is.

So, while I remember those little record things, I was still young enough that they mostly belonged to my brother, and I never called them anything other than little record thingies. We had one with the Big Mac song on it, and I had a few that came with books, like maybe the Care Bears?

Anyway, I had a Fisher Price tape recorder when I was 8 or so, and I remember putting my NKOTB tape in, sneaking in to sleep in my brother's water bed (while he & Dad were off in TX, Mom & I stayed in CA to wait for the house to sell) and put the thing under my pillow and listen until I fell asleep.
I don't know the first cd I bough, but I think it was Ace of Base... because that's just how classy I am. I do, however, remember when Dad bought our first cd player. He bought this awesome cd collection thingy of all the best songs from the 60s--15 discs full. Numbers 1, 4, 7 & 14 were the best.

But cds and tapes lived in glorious harmony for a long time.