So, as I writer, I make a lot of stuff up. And let's face it, I need to make stuff up. The idea of a perfect man is so out there, it can only exist in the land of make-believe, right?

I was having this discussion with my hus...the IDP, the other day, and as it turns out, he was convinced I was trying to compensate for my real life by manufacturing the world I'd rather live in. And I guess he's pretty perceptive, that Mr. Lincoln, because isn't that what we all do to some degree?

But at the same time, he's way off base. The fact is, reality rarely lives up to the fantasy, even if you find yourself able to bring it to life.

Case in point...remember that super cute someone you admired from afar? The one with perfect hair, and perfect teeth, and perfect everything south of that? So, you pined for this certain someone, hoping to one day get married and have perfect little babies...then you met him...I mean the person. And perfection went straight out the window when he opened his mouth. Why? Because the fantasy is always better than the reality.

I mean, let's take having sex, standing up in a shower, for example. That sounds so hot and exciting...until you attempt to actually pull it off. Then it's more like a dangerous circus act, better suited for a special effects team than two clumsy, non-acrobats in a wet shower.

So, as a writer, I'm simply saving the world from harm by creating those fantasy moments for you. It has nothing to do with bringing my own fantasies to fruition. Honest.

Ok...maybe it does...just a little.

Until the next time...I'll be whipping up my next make-believe wonderment.