The Problem With Expectations

Headbutt.

Everyone expects certain things. I expect that I'll wake up tomorrow morning. I expect to be able to breathe. I also expect that there will be some eating, some work, and maybe if I'm lucky, some damn mist won't trick me.

Then there's Vegas.

I'm heading there, for the first time, in June. And that's where expectations rear their ugly, almost obscenely morbid, head.

Just from hearing about Vegas, and reading about Vegas, and seeing 3 pictures of Vegas, my expectations have already shot through the roof. We're talking orbital. Is there any possible way that Vegas can live up to the expectations that I have set for it?

The answer is: unless there happens to be a dancing gorilla that is scaling one of the casinos, which just so happens to be in my line of sight as I sit at a magical slot machine which consistently rewards me with jackpots every 16th spin, all while having my shoes shined by a talking duck (that wasn't shot) and being fed black grapes, I don't think so. Are my expectations too high?

Not in the least. After all, it is Vegas.

K bye.