It seems to me that I could say something totally profound-sounding but unoriginal about the magical way we imagine treats/people/events to be (or are told they will be) and how they really turn out to be, but...
Nicely prepared food really does look delicious (see VegWeb if you want to see gorgeous, enticing food pictures prepared and taken by amateurs... delightful!)
My partner really is adorable. Get your own, but I'm very satisfied with mine.
The moments you psych yourself up for (any occasion you address before the fact as "the perfect [ ]) may not turn out to be the full Disneyfied concept you can build up, but... well, life is pretty magical. A moment in swirling, light snow under a streetlight is a moment surrounded by crystal clear, intense color and dancing light and glitter; wet goldfinches look spectacular clinging even to my grubby, flaccid, half-full thistle sock after a rain; sunsets and sunrises and kittens and clouds and springtime! What's not to love?
I'm reading Anthony Bourdain's A Cook's Tour or whatever it's called. He's essentially dishing on the experience of having to, boo-hoo, work for the Food Network, while receiving a paycheck for doing so. I think they sponsored the book. Oh, woe is me, I'm a sell out, witness the evil of the company and how I bow and kowtow to them! Le sigh... he's a magnificently gifted writer and I assume a great cook, but I hate this particular gripe. I've never learned the value of a dollar, oh agony! Sheesh.
One thing I do adore about the book is the passionate love with which he describes people's everyday foods around the world. And it sort of occurred to me that we rarely rhapsodize about our own quotidian meals... because Doritos and packaged string cheese and whatever else we REALLY eat every day really aren't much in the way of cuisine. Where's the romance?
This article was just serendipitous to that turn of thought:
Ad vs. reality (fast food in ads and real life photos)