Shattered Versions of Reality

Apprently, there comes a time in every adult's life when we have to face the facts. Our version of reality is so often distorted, enhanced, just plain incorrect.

That fave necklace I couldn't decide whether to put on Etsy or not?
Faded. I wore it once and all that white stuff went away. I am SO glad I didn't list it. Now it's just brownish beads and a nice chunk o' turquoise. But I'll still wear it.

Those unconctacted Amazonians?
Turns out they'd been "mapped" for years, and the dude that put the story out into the news flew over this group he'd known about for maybe a decade, buzzing them until they put on their red battle paint. So, while not a complete hoax, his methods were questionable.

Oh, and my trusty guard dog who we thought had foiled a burglar?
I forgave her and picked up the mess she made flinging my rhinestones and bits of bling across the room trying to get to the window. We called her a hero(ine). But a week later she did it again -- apparently in the middle of the night. Now, before I go to work in the mornings I have to prop the chairs up to block her access. The second time she did it I barely had the heart to pick up and sort things. But, she did prompt a major reorganization -- of everything BUT my work table, LOL!

I guess I function better in a moderate amount of chaos. When I'm looking for the perfect dangle, I don't wanna have to walk into the studio and hunt for something. I'd rather it was on the table somewhere -- or on the floor nearby?

Signed, all(most) grown up in Albuquerque . . .