Monday, February 28, 2011


I am a girl.  (Surprise!)

I have long, golden locks that, on average, shed 50-100 hairs per day.  (Thanks, Google)

I have a bathroom sink that likes to chomp up my hairs until it is so full it can no longer drain.

I have a need for Draino.

On my trip to Target (snaps!) this weekend, I was standing in the cleaning supplies aisle, pondering what sort of measures to take on the clogged drain.

A clearly elderly woman practically ran up to me, grabbed some toilet cleaner and loudly proclaimed (although I was the only one in the aisle), "This seems too good to be true.  I wonder if it will ring up this price."  The only problem was the cynicism in her voice - the clear disdain - the kind that comes from years of mistrust of the world.

I am generally a friendly person, especially to the chatty, older crowd.  They do make you laugh, don't they?  But this one, this one...
I just didn't know what to say - I looked at her, holding my Target brand drain cleaner, trying to reassure her that I see three price tags that all indicate the same price, so I am sure she would be fine.  But nothing came out.  I probably looked like a bug standing there big-eyed, mouth agape.

As she walked away, I realized: I hope I never become so cynical that I proclaim my mistrust to strangers and don't believe the prices clearly posted in the grocery store.  I hope I am able to keep my trust for humanity.  And Target.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Get Over It

When you  have been through a difficult situation, be it a break up, a lost job, a bad audition, how many times have you heard, "Get Over It?"

First of all, let me say I was never under "it," whatever "it" is.

Second, why would I want to "get over it" and forget?  Wouldn't the smart thing to do be to take from the experience the gems that will improve my odds and knowledge for the next time I face something similar?  Doesn't the thought that we can just get over something with the snap of a finger trivialize our experiences and make us feel silly for ever wanting or trying whatever it was?  You are never required to just wipe your hands clean and "get over it." 

For this reason, I always counsel my friends with this:

Do not get over it.  Learn from it.  Use this experience.  Remember.  Then take those feelings/thoughts and move past it.

That's right.  Be more.  Learn. Grow.  Keep Moving.  Move Past It.

After all, isn't life all about moving just one step at a time?  Even when all odds are against us and we can't imagine mustering the strength, don't we find we have conquered all when we just keep moving?

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Wicked Divas

How often do you get to meet the lady for whom Stephen Schwartz wrote the song "Defying Gravity" from the legendary musical, "Wicked?" 

Thanks to my amazing friend, a group of us had that opportunity this weekend.  We sat in the third row, fully equipped with goosebumps and goofy grins.  After the show, not only did we get to meet the lovely Stephanie J. Block and Julia Murney, both of whom starred as "Elphaba" on Broadway, but we also got to meet conductor Jerry Steichen.  He came up to chat with us (it pays to know people) and shared with us the little tidbit I had not previously known regarding Mr. Schwartz writing "Defying Gravity" for none other than Stephanie J. Block.  Aside from dishing for us, he was real and made me laugh...a lot...earning himself a place high on my "awesome people" list.

You know who else is on my "awesome people" list?  The gang from this photo.  What a night - embedded forever in my memories.

Me, Chris K., Julia Murney, Leah J., Melissa S., Stephanie J. Block, Jon S., Jesse C.

You know what else?  I walked into the lobby of the architecturally amazing Abravanel Hall and saw....

ME!  So cool! 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Friend Requests

I have over a dozen friend requests sitting in my Facebook account.
The guy who talked at me at a party for five minutes whom I only told my first name. 
The girl I haven't seen since I was twelve.
The creeper who must have seen my photo from a mutual friend and requested me.
The guy from my home town who apparently knew me in high school and I have no idea who he is.
Someone from my family ward in Ohio who clearly knows me and watched me grow, but with whom I have never spoken.

You know the story.
And I feel bad for not adding them...for leaving them in limbo.
But not bad enough.

Seasonal Depression

Over the past few weeks, I've noticed too many mentions on friends' blogs, Facebook posts, and e-mails of seasonal depression.

I wish there were more I could do for all of you, I know it is rough, I know this is a real problem.

I don't think I've ever truly been affected negatively by the season.  True, I loudly, obnoxiously proclaim January to be the longest month of the year, however I find excitement even in that.  Only in the darkest, coldest month of the year do I have a perma-excuse to hole myself up and catch up on all the reading, movie watching, and kitty cat (or handsome man) snuggling I miss March through November.

You know the blue pill and the red pill from The Matrix?  Maybe I've accidentally taken some blue pill of optimism to believe whatever I want to believe, because, as of late, I'm ridiculously excited about every change around the corner. 

Sure, I can't wait for spring to hit at the end of winter, but I can't wait for fall at the end of summer, or for Christmas and snow at the end of is this endless cycle of anticipation and excitement!

For all of my friends who do experience seasonal depression, let us play together and I'll try to spread a little of the joy your direction.  Cause I love you like that, no matter what the season.


Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Dreams: Noise Complaints and Wormy Teeth

I bet you are all wondering about now if I take some special "weird dream inducing" supplement - nope.

Saturday Night
My downstairs neighbor came up to tell me that my party was too loud.  I looked around the room and there were eight people - 1/3 as many as I usually have - and we were actually being quite quiet.  I asked the man why he chose now to come and complain because he never has before.  He didn't have an answer for me and began to look kind of depressed.  I asked him if it would help him feel better and stop his complaints if we invited him to the parties from then on.  He nodded in agreement, seeming excited about the proposition.
In reality I have a female downstairs neighbor whom has never complained about my parties.

Monday Night
I smiled and noticed that my front right tooth was majorly chipped and jagged like a mountain range.  I wondered how all my friends could have let me smile so sincerely with a smile so wretched.  Then I realized my teeth were like thousands of hard clear worm-like things that needed caps on the ends of them to keep them solid instead of worms and the caps on my two front teeth had fallen off.
Gross. I haven't been able to stop running my tongue across my teeth all morning, just to make sure it was only a dream.

And the Winner Is...

If you entered my giveaway for the $20 Amazon gift card, on this post, then you have been waiting with baited breath for the announcement regarding the winner.

I printed off all the comments, folded them all up in equal size, tossed them around in a big dunce hat for awhile (don't ask), then had a co-worker close their eyes and pick a piece of paper.  Random, I'm telling you. 

And the winner (who needs to e-mail me at so I know where to direct the gift card) is...
Congratulations, Sarah!  And thank you to all who commented.  I'd suggest everyone go back and read the comments - many enlightening thoughts there.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Numb Tongue

Don't you just love and simultaneously despise that feeling you get when you reach the point of having eaten so much ice cream, your tongue is numb?

Friday, February 18, 2011

How Does it Feel?

Everyone always asks the cliche question, "How does it feel to be x years old?"

What kind of question is that? Am I supposed to feel different than yesterday?

I woke up the morning of my big 3-0, back in September, feeling quite as congested and voiceless as the day before, kitty snuggled up to me as she is every morning, the sun streaming in, all accompanied by the sound of the babbling brook. Yes, the same wonderful way I wake up every day (without the congestion).

I looked in the mirror. Three strange thoughts occurred.
  1. Huh. I actually look pretty good without any makeup on. Kinda young and fresh-faced.
  2. Thirty? This is what thirty looks like? I've pictured thirty a lot of times throughout my years and I never pictured thirty like this. I look good!
  3. Wow. This is way better than twenty. Way.

You all know I'm far from conceited and practically cry every time someone gives me a sincere compliment, so please take the above statements with a grain of salt.

I'd somehow always pictured thirty as "old." Where are my wrinkles? The bags under my eyes? The shrinking lips? The expanding waist line? Grey hairs? Sagging anything? Spider-veins or weird spots on my legs? Non-existent.

When I was 24, the movie Thirteen Going on Thirty hit the screens. As totally vulnerable to pop culture as it may be, "thirty, flirty, and thriving" was permanently seared into my conscience. I always wondered, "Will I be?"

The answer is "YES!" an emphatic "YES!!!!"

And for your viewing pleasure, some photos of me through the decades.

Does anyone else find it disturbing that my mother put a breast-feeding child in a shirt labeled, "Mom's Bosom Buddy?"
10 - Idaho (Yes, that really is me.  Laugh it up.)
13- Freshman in High School
17 - Prom
20 - Dallas/Ft. Worth

22 - Cincinnati Reds game
24 - Grand Canyon
25 - summit of Nebo

29 - Bye Bye Birdie
30 - Christmas Family Photos

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Straw Game

I love to play the straw game.

I am immediately 8 years old again.

I talk those around me into participating simply because there is no way to hide the ridiculous excitement and immaturity I have for this game.  A couple of weeks ago I was at dinner with friends and, upon hearing my name, I turned to look.  Three of them were holding their straw wrappers in position, waiting for me to join in the game.

The rules?
1. Tie a straw wrapper in a loose knot
2. Rapidly pull on both ends of the wrapper
3. If the knot comes undone, someone is thinking about you. If the knot stays in, no one is thinking about you.
4. Giggles and delight ensue, even if you lose - it is just fun!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Small Mormon World

I received a text message from an unknown number Friday night at 10pm: "Kennewick, Washington Mission."

My friend in P-town, Venom, had posted on Facebook about a friend who got a mission call that night, so I asked her if she changed her number and if this was someone I was supposed to know.  Nope.

So I texted mystery person and inquired as to his/her identity.

The response was "Carey are you losing it? This is Joe."

I wrote back, "This is Larissa, not Carey, this has been my # for 10 years, but a friend of mine has a friend who got his mission call to Kennewick @ 10pm Friday 2 - Tyrel!"

And the response I got back?

"Did you say your friend's friend is Tyrel? If so, who is your friend? Tyrel is my son."

I told the man my friend's name and he wrote back, "She is my next door neighbor."

What a very small Mormon world!


Why is it that all of the controversy and hullabaloo over "Mormon" rumors just amuses me?

I recently read a blog by a "friend of another faith" who is fascinated, in a good way, with "Mormon Mommy Blogs."  As much as the article interested me, I saw "Comments 316" and my heart started to pound with excitement: "This is going to be good."

And I was right.  Not even five comments in, I saw someone posting a novel passionately declaring that LDS folks do not practice polygamy.

Every time something new hits the media regarding anything to do with the LDS faith that is not issued directly through the Church, there is a hail storm of violent verbal and written objection from defenders of the faith.  I'm surprised I haven't heard more regarding "The Book of Mormon the Musical."

I've probably confused some of you.  Why does this craziness amuse me?

Just live the faith.  Live it.  Be an example.  Show people the Christ-like love and joy inside of you that has come from the gospel.  Having an online spat with some overly-opinionated anonymous commenter on someone's blog isn't really going to do anything but give you an anxiety attack and the commenter a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Larissa-isms: Weird Words

We all have words we've made up over the course of time. You know, those weird expressions we plan on using to totally annoy our children some day.*  Some even qualify as "mormon swears,"  which gives me this rebellious, potty-mouth feel like I'm actually swearing.

Some of my personal favorites/creations?

Crapdoggy:  You use this expression when something goes foul.
Example: Crapdoggy!  That hurts!

Poo on a stick:  Most typically utilized upon feeling unhealthy.
Example:   Man, I really feel like poo on a stick.  

Mc-,-son: I was onto the quality of "Mc" way before Grey's Anatomy...I remember utilizing this as far back as '99 with then roommate Rachel.
You use these to add humor and impact to what you are saying.
Example: (after a large meal) I feel like a Fatty McFatFat with a shake and fries!
Example: Why are you upset, PoutyMcPouterson?

-ify, -ariffic, -anator, -iosity:  I add these, and others, to the ends of words/names to make them seem more pertinent.
Example: Shaylariffic, Jonanator
This cookie is could totally fatify me.
You are so fantastariffic.
This cookie is total deliciosity.

*My mother uses the phrase,"Oh horsefeathers," all. the. time.

Roller Coaster

I think that life is a bit like a roller coaster.

If there aren't an abundance of ups, downs, twists, turns, loop-the-loops, climbing, crawling, fast and slow, then you feel a little gypped at the end of the ride.

If only life had the equivalent of Dramamine - I'm prone to motion sickness. 

Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Day

My father is a sap. I know exactly what strings to pull to prompt fatherly tears from his twinkling hazel eyes.

All growing up, Valentine's Day* was special in our home.  Dad would buy all his girls flowers and tell us how much he loves us. When I went away to college, he would mail me a check and tell me to go buy myself flowers and a treat for me and my roommates.

This morning, I woke up to a little, "Beep Beep Beep!" - a text from my dad, "Happy Valentine's Day to my wonderful daughters! I love you! Dad."

I never understand the bitterness and depression people choose to feel on this wonderful day to express your love for all of those with whom you share your life.  I even gave my little kitty an extra squeeze this morning.

Perhaps many of you are in the same boat as I, with no "someone special" with whom to spend this day.  As I write, I find myself biting my tongue.  Every person in my life is someone special.  This evening I am spending time with two of my dearest friends (and of course Gym).  I've made plans for four other nights this week with others I love tremendously.

A darling man I adore recently said to me, "I don't need a certain day designated to tell my significant other how much I love her - the healthy relationship I want will have love and romance every day."  Yeah, his hotness factor went way up with that comment.  Let us apply that all around - I want my friends and family to know I love them every day, but I do like having an excuse to treat them extra sugary and spicy and everything nicey.

Some of my friends clearly, and thankfully, feel the same way as I.  Upon leaving for work, I opened my door to discover two white tulips, a medium-sized Hershey Kiss (the closest I've ever received to the thing I'm still holding out for - my dream-come-true BIG Hershey's Kiss some Valentine's Day), and a super-hero valentine with a crunch bar.  They know the strings to pull those tears right outta my wee hazel peepers, just like my daddy.

Happy Valentine's Day - to all my someone special's out there!!!

*For all those who believe Valentine's is a "Hallmark Holiday," - I didn't realize the company was so old!  Shakespeare writes dialogue in Act 4 Scene 5 of Hamlet for Ophelia in regards to St. Valentine's Day.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

In Honor of Valentine's Day: Love

The other Sunday as I was exiting church, a young man was heading my direction.  This young man is a dear, sweet friend with whom I have shared many treasured moments.  He lit up and smiled.  I returned the favor.  Then he walked right on past.  Huh?

I turned around to see his fiancee was right behind me.

I, for a moment, felt replaced - he used to light up for our friendship.  Then I realized the pure joy I felt seeing him and her beyond happy together.  I don't mind being replaced when the person I love is getting much, much more than I could ever provide. 

Which brings me to a much more personal note of which I rarely expose in public, let alone a blog.  I'm not sure why I feel prompted to share these things.  Please be respectful.

This time last year I was in love - deeply, madly, head-over-heels.  This time last year my best friend told me he loved me and wanted to marry me.  I saw my future in his eyes.  I knew my world would change forever.  Last week last year a man purchased an engagement ring for me (of which I never received).

I was right - my world has changed forever.  But not in the ways I thought.  I never believed those people who claimed to love someone more than their own life yet chose to part ways.  I always thought, "If you love them, marry them!"

I know I will always love this person of whom I write - I gave part of myself to him that he will always hold.  Don't worry, there is a lot of me to give and I've plenty to keep giving and giving.  I have had a difficult past six months trying to come to terms with the decisions I've grasp any sense of closure or feeling of certainty either way.

I've been blessed to share dates with many quality men in this time.  Each one of them has given me a new gem of wisdom.

I've been reading bounteous articles, studies, and books - all trying to come to some sort of logical and emotional resolution and also trying to prevent continuing a string of previous less-than-stellar relationship decisions.  Logic and emotion don't usually get along, just FYI.

While I am not sure I will ever have the total resolution I seek, I have realized, regardless of any other feelings, if my interactions with this man made him feel anything less than a prince, anything less than 1,000% desired, anything less than the best match for me, then it was wrong of me to continue the relationship.   He needs/deserves more than that.  So do I.  This is an immensely difficult reality to accept.

Which brings me back to my previous statement, "I don't mind being replaced when the person I love is getting much, much more than I could ever provide." 

One day at a time.  One step at a time.  One gem of a wisdom at a time. All I can do is continue to be the best person I can be and try to improve myself every day in every way.  Good things are in store.  For me.  For him.

As for all of you?  Will you ALL my Valentine's this year?

I love you!

Friday, February 11, 2011

In Honor of Valentine's Day: Beauty

You only know what is beautiful because of what you are told.

What do you think when you look in the mirror?  Where did those thoughts come from?

I know I look in the mirror and have no idea whether I am beautiful or not except for the ideas given to me by others.  We are blind to what we see in the mirror.

Are your family members beautiful?  You may not recognize this until someone else tells you.  A brother often doesn't know his sister is beautiful until one of his friends points out her dazzling smile.

I think of all the young, amazing girls who are constantly in tears or striving for acceptance because they are not "enough" of a beauty in the eyes of their peers.

I cannot express how important of a role our family and immediate friends play in forming our whole perception of beauty.  As parents, we need to raise our children always letting them know how wonderful, beautiful, and intelligent they are.  As friends, we need to express the same sentiment.  We've all seen how this simple, regular encouragement can truly change someone's appearance - think of that girl all of the guys suddenly start wanting once she is in a steady relationship.

I remember being an 11-year-old nerd.  Actually, I'm not sure "nerd" even covers all the bases.  My favorite teacher, Mrs. Ginny James (she passed away from cancer not long after my class year), let me know almost every day how intelligent and beautiful I was.  She saw my despair and made it her mission to heal my troubled heart.  And you know what?  Around everyone else, I still felt unwanted, but around Mrs. James, I felt beautiful.  I felt beautiful and competent and able to conquer the world.  She gave me hope.  She made me feel as if I could do anything.  She changed me.

Perhaps we've looked at someone and thought they were delusional in their inflated self-perception, but better delusional than depressed, right?  I'd much rather someone have a misperception for the positive.

We need to always tell our friends and family how beautiful they are.  Because they are.  Each of us is the most wonderful, amazing, beautiful person in the world to someone.  Let's get a head start and believe it about ourselves.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

500 Posts and a Giveaway!

                                        This is officially my 500th blog post!

How does one celebrate an accomplishment such as this?

A giveaway, naturally.  My very first - be excited!

All you need to do is comment on how blogging, or reading a fantastic blog such as mine, has changed your life.  I'll randomly select a winner on February 22.

The prize? A $20 gift card.  This is one of my favorite sites and can be used by anyone all the world over. 

Please follow my blog because on this, my 500th post, I am making a goal to reach 50 followers.

How has blogging changed my life?
  • In my vocabulary, the phrase, "I blogged about it, " has become synonymous with, "I thought about it."
  • I have effectively stopped writing in my journal.  I used to print blog entries and e-mails to tape into my journal, but you really can't beat a publicly accessible written personal history.
  • I contemplate my opinions more thoroughly and develop more of them.
  • I have built-in conversation pieces with most of my friends while we discuss one of our latest entries.
  • My personal communications have suffered because when friends I haven't spoken with in awhile ask me what has been going on in my life, I refer them to my blog.  Oops.
  • I've developed stronger friendships with my readers.  As they read my opinions on things that never would have just randomly come up in conversation,  we realize we have more in common in thought and deed than we ever could have known.  And we bond.  Precious.
  • I have a built-in therapist.  Through writing things out, I've been able to express myself and often times come to startling realization about things I am struggling with.  And I've been able to share my celebrations!
  • I have realized people do care what I have to say.
  • I have a creative outlet.

How has blogging/reading a fantastic blog influenced your life?

    Wednesday, February 9, 2011


    When someone looks at you and tells you they don't want to be with you, it is always difficult, no matter who the person or why they are saying it.  Imagine the geekiest person you know, or the ugliest, or whatever (I know, we are all God's children yadda yadda yadda).  Now, picture standing there and letting that person tell you to your face several times some variation of, "I don't want to be with you," or, "You aren't good enough for me," or, "You could never be what I need in a relationship."

    See?  It stings!  Rejection never feels good.  Even if you want the person to reject you.

    *In a vow to be unambiguous, for all those curious, no, have not been rejected recently - just an observation I made upon reflecting about a friend who was rejected and remarked she didn't think she cared until he rejected her and it hurt.
    ** I like run-on sentences, like a lot, and they make me happy and giggle inside because I know they bother my literary friends and because I know the rules, I get that much more of a thrill out of violating them!

    Tuesday, February 8, 2011

    Curious Savage

    Does the title, ""The Curious Savage" catch your interest?

    If not, it should.

    I was not at all familiar with this production, but adore the director and many of the folks performing (talent, talent, talent!), so I decided I needed to support them.  I'm not a fan of straight plays, let me just put that card on the table.  I find them not A.D.D.-friendly enough for me.  I've seen 80-ish productions in NYC and not one has been a straight play.

    But Midvale Arts Council current production is an exception to this rule.  You need to see it. There are three more performances (tonight, Friday, Saturday) - grab your Valentine for a sweet treat (only $5!) at this eclectic little theater I love (performed in 1940s Radio Hour there).  I know you all probably think I tell you to see every show I see, but if you knew all the shows I attend, you'd realize I don't even promote a third of them.

    The gist is that a woman's children commit her to "The Cloisters" for being insane.  We learn, throughout the course of the show, that perhaps insane isn't so negative, that perhaps the "normal" people are the ones who are insane.  The characters will make you laugh over and over (I'm partial to Fairy May), while the ending will catch your emotions a bit off-guard.  This conclusion elevates the show to a different level, leaving you with a distinct, lasting impression.

    Support my dear Nichole, Tim, Nancy, Stephanie, and the rest of the cast - see "The Curious Savage." 

    Thursday, February 3, 2011

    Who do YOU Picture me With?

    I am soliciting any and all comments on this matter.  Call it an experiment. I will not blog again until I receive at least 10 responses, so get typing!

    I constantly bewilder myself with my lack of a "type" of man I prefer romantically.  People ask me, I don't have an answer- all of the men I have dated or been attracted to have seemingly nothing in common.

    But I realized I have strong impressions about the "type" of man most of my friends should be with.  Many conversations revolve around: "What do you think of so-and-so and whats-his-name?  Are they a match?" Although this truly is none of our business, we can't help but make it our business.

    So I thought I would ask all of you - and please do comment, ALL of you.

    What type of man do you picture me with?  I am oh-so-curious.

    Information Age

    As I've mentioned previously, I'm hardly a political person - I actually avoid most conversations involving politics.

    That doesn't mean I don't listen.

    On my drive home from work the other day, a story on the radio regarding Wikileaks and the political implications got me thinking about the age of information.  Once upon a time, having immediate access to information and being able to spread the word as quickly as possible put you a notch above the competition.  Folks gathered around their radios to hear each gem at a designated time daily.  You had to have interaction with people to keep informed about most things, or wait for your news broadcast or daily paper.  Think about Watergate in the Nixon era - having the information was a goldmine then.

    Now, you know what everyone ate for lunch the moment it happens.  But really, who cares?  People will divulge information that breaches national security just because they can.

    With instantaneous access to all information, whether we want it or not, what now puts you a notch above the competition?  I'm going to argue that the ability to keep your mouth shut and only share information that matters is what makes you supreme.

    Instead of the person who is respected for sharing what Marilyn Monroe eats for lunch every day because they are the only person who knows, now we respect the person who has the ability to respect Marilyn Monroe's privacy and not tell us what she ate for lunch because they are the only person who can keep their mouth shut.

    Wednesday, February 2, 2011


    My friend's most recent blog turned me contemplative.

    One of the most difficult parts of growing up is looking at someone you once deeply knew or loved and realizing they are a stranger.

    That person you shared a locker with, that group of people with whom you stayed up all night laughing in college, the friends you took cross-country road trips with after graduation, the work team with whom you labored 60 hours per week, the person you wanted to spend forever with...

    One day you cross paths and smile while making small talk, feeling the glimmer of what you once shared, and realizing your lives are no longer intertwined although your hearts are.

    You walk away, never knowing when you will see each other again, feeling the familiar love, yet aching with loss.

    Driver's License

    In the great state of Ohio, we get our driver's license's at the standard age of 16.

    By the time I hit 16, I'd been driving a riding lawn mower for a good 4 years.  Yes, laugh at that mental image.  I'm a corn-fed farm girl.

    One cold, December day, my dad forced me to go take my test.  I bawled the entire fifteen-minute drive.  I was scared to death.  Why?  I did not want to be responsible for injuring someone in an accident, ever.  That redhead forced me to get my license.

    Of course I passed with flying colors, but how many 16-year-old's do you know who have to be forced to get their license and then cry the entire way?


    During my little lunch break, if I ever I actually take one, I listen to the The Browser on KSL talk radio (love them - 102.7 1pm-3pm weekdays).

    Friday, they played a small clip from the movie "The Rite."

    Anthony Hopkins' character poses a question: "The interesting thing about skeptics is that we're always looking for proof. The question is, what on earth would we do if we found it?"

    I find this very intriguing.  The world is always asking for proof of the existence of God or aliens or sea monsters.  What would happen if we knew?  Would the fear be greater?  Would all fascination fall to the wayside?  Would interest grow stronger?  Very, very interesting...

    Tuesday, February 1, 2011

    Ambiguous Emotional Blogging

    I have come to realize that I don't like reading blog entries all about emotions when there is no back-story. Perhaps this is too nosy of me, but, in my humble opinion, if you are going to blog about it, you are already exposing yourself a wee bit, so just tell me what is going on instead of being all cryptic.  At least then I can offer constructive feedback...or tell you you are a wuss:-)