The arrows don't have poison but they bruise

Right now, I’m frantically trying to get my things together so I can leave Washington first thing Saturday morning. I have an overwhelming sense of closure in this chapter of my life, and I think it’s only fitting to end this blog with it.

For many years, I've felt Ed Kowalczyk’s lyrics represented much of what I was about, what I felt, and what I saw. But now the time has come for me to be something else and follow someone new. Thank you dear readers and goodbye Heropsychodreamer, you were a good friend (and a worthy opponent).

Je te verrai à La Cinquième Montagne.

Poison in the Ink - The New Amsterdams

These relics of remembrance are just like shipwrecks, only they’re gone faster than the smell after it rains.

25 is a special number for me today.

In its honor, I shall recount, in no particular order, 25 events and items worth remembering from my summer.

1 500 g bottle of L-glutamine consumed
10 lbs gained
1 authentic Seattle Uitilikilt received as a gift
1 Columbia Titanium Grade Jacket purchased
400+ hours acquiring/tuning man skills
4 months first-hand exposure to/interaction with “the other side.”
1 Nude cyclist event attended
1 1996 Tacoma broken and entered
1 Fender 8G – ES acquired
1 Old friendship reborn
2 Friendships deepened
1 Tire repair kit reluctantly purchased
1 Stack of clothes disposed of
2 Mountains partially hiked
200 miles ridden via bicycle
60 miles run via a pair of New Balance 1006’s
4 Books purchased
2 CDs ordered
1 Life perspective overhauled
3 Single friends lost (and 3 Married friends gained)
1 Longboard given to GoodWill
1 Small stack of clothing trashed
1 Relationship reluctantly ended
1 POS fleece given to GoodWill (Sentimentalism should be used sparingly. The past easily turns to excess baggage.)

I don’t have any regrets, but there are a few things I wish I’d done. There’s always a few “shoulda, coulda, woulda’s.”

My Spanish project never took off. It’s not necessary for the FBI, but it would be nice to have. Luckily, I still have a few years to learn it. It’s too bad I wasn’t able to find/make more opportunities to get to know Biotech Girl. She was really cool. I should have started voice lessons as soon as I got to Seattle rather than waiting a month, but I still had time to improve significantly. I should have made more time for temple outings; I wish I had.

I have another year to do better, and hopefully, another 75 after that.

So Long Astoria - The Ataris

And I can't wait 'til I get home to pass the time in my room alone.

I can do it.

I can do it.

A 55 hour work week is still a vacation compared to the coming weeks of school. The past 15 weeks of design and fabrication have all been for this purpose only. Two days to run experiments; one day to calculate, analyze, write, and conclude. (Guru. I make these goals for closure and for pride. We both know that no decent scientist EVER rushes his experimentation into such a small time bracket.)

I can do it.

I am resilient to all things physical and most things mental...I have come too far to merely float and watch my last week end sans bruit.

Adam's Song - Blink 182

Woke up today to everything gray, and all that I saw just kept going on and on.

I spent most of my last Saturday in Seattle with MSU. We hiked a small area around Rainere and talked. At the summit of the hike, we stopped in a large medaow full of wild flowers.

The feeling isn't the same as the one from our hike in May. At Mt. Si, you can look off the edge of a cliff and get an amazing view. From up there, the world is small yet complete. The tiny streams, ridges, and trees fit together seamlessly, and the result is inspiring.

At Rainere, it's the opposite. For miles, a dense forest compresses your view to 20 feet. You don't know where you're going or when you'll get there. Then, BAAAM, the world is huge. You are suddenly surrounded by rocks, trees, grass, flowers, and glaciers; the meadow stretches on. It goes on without you and doesn't care what you do or what you think. It just is. In this environment, a person has three choices:

1. Let the medow continue to be himself and be happy to witness a little bit of his beauty.
2. Be angry that he moves without your permission and find a box to hide in.
3. Get pissed off that you missed Tour de France re-runs.

What You Wish For - Guster

We can live like Jack and Sally if we want.

Career Update: After consulting with MSU and a few others, I've once again decided that leaps of faith should only be taken when they must and never when they mustn't. I'm finding that I'm quite scared of getting stuck in a bureaucracy that requires me to be quiet and not make any noise in order to survive.

It's true that I could take a chance and finish all the initial stages of my FBI application. With luck, everything else would go as planned, and I'd have my life career ready-packaged in T-minus Two years and one week. However, what do I gain by rushing things? One less year as an engineer. That's pretty much it. Really, what is one year in 25?

Looking at my job over the last four months, I've noticed a few changes in the abilities of "Mike the human Swiss Army knife." My newly acquired "man skills" make even the Mike of January 2006 look like a punk 4th grader with a screwdriver.

When I go to the FBI, my career as an engineer will be over forever. There will be no going back unless I wash out as a special agent and talk someone into giving me a spot on the professional staff. But who wants to work for the government as a science weenie? The pay is still low, the bureaucracy is still there, but now you all you do is work behind the scenes. Actually, these comments are all my own speculation. What do I know? The bottom line is a government job would only be worth it for me if I could see AND do stuff that is inaccessible otherwise.

So I've decided to slow down a little bit. I'll finish my degree and go be a real person for a while. The FBI isn't going anywhere and I won't lose the chance to get a Ph.D. if I decide law enforcement isn't for me. By waiting, I'll be able to gain some actual knowledge as to what life is like as an engineer, more time to compare first-hand experience (as oppose to second-hand speculations), and of course, more time to acquire even higher level man skills (that absolutely no one but me will ever care about).

Miss you - Blink 182

Get your hands off the girl. Can't you see that she belongs to me. And I don't appreciate this excess company.

Tonight was the first time I thought it might actually be nice stay out here. A few of us walked along Akila beech until the sun set. Had the sky not been overcast, the scene would have come from the most cliche teen flick ever. Still, cliches have good things in them too.

There is something happy and free about lakes and city lights and beeches, and there is something immensely satisfying about having someone(s) there to enjoy it with you.

Perfect Situation - Weezer

See the man with the lonely eyes, take his hand, you'll be surprised.

Over the course of the summer, I’ve befriended a kid in my ward. B1 is intelligent, quiet, enthusiastic about the church, yet extremely unsure of himself. Since I came out to Seattle, he’s been trying to decide if he should serve a mission. Unlike a lot of 19 year-olds, I think he grasps the magnitude of that decision. The significance of the temple endowment; the commitment it involves. “Duh!! EVERY worthy young man should serve a mission. There’s nothing to question…” But see? There is. It’s rather naïve to base one’s life decisions off the council of an authority figure, even if you do trust him/her. If there are any decisions that merit divine confirmation, this choice is one of them.

What does a person do when no answer comes? I know I’ve mentioned the dilemma before, but it really is a serious one. The answer to that question is very telling about a person’s true beliefs and desires. Many of the typical Mormon answers lead in to a self-sustaining circle, and though many don’t realize it, when you enter this circle, there is no need for God at all. He could disappear completely, and nothing would change. It’s a difficult trail, and I feel bad for my friend. He has no family support, and from what I can see, not a lot of social support either. I think missions can be a great thing, but they can be a terrible thing too. I think B1 will be alright, but he first must consolidate who he is, who he wants to be, and who he thinks he should be. Many people give up before they hit that point; I hope he won't be one of them.

Give a Little Bit - The Goo Goo Dolls

I got static in my head. The reflected sound of everything, tried to go to where it led, but it didn't lead to anything.

After three months, I finally made good on my promise to RCW and attended a Mariner's game. Unfortunately, I was unable to bring Biotech Girl along, but even alone, sport spectating is quite fun. The beautiful stadium, the cheering, team colors, the $4.00 bottled water, it's all great. Baseball is more chill than other sports, and I think it gives a person more time to kick back and let the game's atmosphere soak in.

This evening, Tennessee Girl invited me to come with her and company to an outdoor movie. It's like a weekly Renton sponsored family night. Tonight we all brought pillows and blankets and laid on the grass to watch the 15' presentation of Back to the Future I.

When Michael J. Fox's nose is 4 feet long or his coffee mug is the size of a bed, you notice things you may not have seen before. Tonight, I got a really close view of "the look." Not just from Emma Thompson, but also from Marty's girlfriend. I'd say she does it even better, and in truth, I'm rather disturbed.

If a bad actress can do a good simulation of "the look," why not any regular person? Are there no guarantees at all in love?

I don't think so, but I don't think that's bad. Most humans crave stability and reliablity, yet many of those same people crave drama, which is almost the opposite. I think this contradictory nature stands on the idea that love, though needing stability, also needs passion. Passion is easily found in drama, necessary or not . I would be a hypocrite to frown on people who sincerely like drama.

I'm never passionate about my functioning truck or an accurate oxygen sensor or a content family member. I am passionate about unlocking my door, debugging a GC, or finding the best way to stuff a group of thermocouples into a reactor. I confess that I find more excitement in having/solving problems than being happy that I have none.

On a related note, it sure is nice to sit back and laugh with another person. The Mariner's game was fun, but really, without some one there with me, it was just a bunch of middle aged men swinging sticks at balls of string. Life is too short to sit back and constantly watch others live it.

Tomorrow Tomorrow - Elliott Smith

and do you like making out and long drives and brown eyes and guys that just don't...quite...fit in?

Last night I attended a show at one of the nicer night clubs in Seattle. After picking dinner from the Pan-Asian menu, myself, MSU, and company sat back and watched Ska Cubana do their thing. I didn't think they were fantastic, but I don't know anything about music. Watching eventually turned into much shameless dancing with a couple dozen other attendants. I even danced with a gay man, sort of. It was fun.

Dancing is still a funny thing for me. As with singing and any other performance related activity, my motion (unintentionally) is about as fluid as a cubic boulder trying to roll down a hill. Combine this tendency with some congo drums and a lot of brass, and I resemble a boxer who has to use the bathroom while trying to warm up for a fight.

Actually, I’m even less graceful. My gay friend migrated his way into a group of attractive females giving me the "dude, I'm totally giving you an in" look. I had to laugh.

It was a good night.

So Impossible - Dashboard Confessional

And I'm not bitter, no. It's just I've past that point in my life.

I went to F1’s reception yesterday, and it was amazing.

I have no choice but to retract all negative thoughts about that relationship. Her two younger siblings were there, bored to tears, so I entertained them for a few minutes with stories of bad road trips and drivers who forget they are in America. F1’s mom was also present and very interested in talking. I like to think she had no choice because she was so impressed with me after the initial fifteen second wedding-line conversation (after all I DID wear nice shoes). She possilby could have simply needed a warm, almost familiar face with which to converse; she too knew all of three out of the 60 adults present. I was happy to oblige and left after an hour and a half with the best piece of wedding cake I’ve ever had and a long hug from a close friend. I’ve needed one of those for months.

Driving home, I had a transcendent moment of peace; the turmoil that is my normal life disappeared. Everything fit - the shade of the sky, the number of clouds in it, the hum of my truck, even poor Carrabba’s song about the little things that make a person special. I thought about being back with that group of friends I made almost two years ago - the eleven of us back together again, laughing like old times.

I thought about a friend of mine who recently went through a confusing, abrupt break-up that put her in shambles for a while. The last time we talked, she said, “Mike, I think my problem is I get too involved. Too much of my identity is caught up in finding and being with someone else. If I don’t have someone to love/love me, I don’t have anything. I think I need to zoom out for a while and take some ‘me’ time. I think I need to better learn to be happy with me rather than me with soandso." I certainly understand where she’s coming from, and I think there is a lot of emotional health to be found in being content with oneself as a lone individual. I don’t particularly like that image, and I haven't really worried about Mike's image of himself in a long time. But truthfully, driving home Tuesday evening, I fully agreed that being happy with ones own indiviuality was a necessity, and maybe, the one thing so many unhappy people lack.

I'm ready I am - The Format

Is it too much to ask for things to work out this time? I've only asked for what is mine. I wanted everything, I've got it all now...

Well folks, here it is. Three months of 48 hour weeks. No, it’s really not that impressive on the outside. But much like myself, I like to think its true value is only discovered in seeing what it does, what it can do, what it will do...

(My eyes aren't as tired as they look; the flash made me squint).

Lemmings - Blink 182

Maybe it's trite but I can always be wrong. Try not to be wrong.

The front that I have any common sense continues to fade.

I drove down to a Discount Tire Co. (from whom I bought my tires from a year ago) 5 miles from my apartment. After talking to a mechanic, I walked back to my truck to drive it into the shop. Suddenly, I notice my keys are not where they belong; they are still in the ignition, windows up and doors shut tight.

With widened eyes and a pit in my stomach, the gravity of the problem sunk in. I didn’t know the exact location of the spare key at home. My roommate was deaf, and I didn't have his phone number. I'd recently the charity card on my only friends out here, and harassing them on a Saturday night was out of the question. Five miles wasn't too far to run, but I had no house key and no compass to ensure I keep going the right way. I called a local towing company, and they quoted $50 and 20 minutes to arrive. The garage had no tools for getting in locked doors, not even a coat hangar or wire.

Holding to the Hitchhikers' Guide motto, I gave myself a minute to calm down and decided to try plan Z, "Mike's sheer abilities vs the elements." After staring at my doors for a few minutes, I formulated a plan. I had to pry open the top edge of the door and find a way to roll down the window. The shop could only offer a couple 14" breaker bars and some paper towels to assist my cause.

Wrapping one of the bars in a paper towel I slid it in through the top door corner and worked it downward until I'd bought myself a half an inch. Slowly tapping it to the left and inserting the second bar, I made a quarter inch gap at the top centerline. Unfortunately, the window lever was two feet down, and I had to pull it UP (as opposed to pushing it DOWN which is much easier). Looking around for something long and skinny, I unscrewed my antennae. "What else?...." The antennae was no good for pulling and too flexible for leverage. I found a 2' piece of twine in my truck be and fastened a loop to the end of the antennae.

Though the garage had closed, one of the workers stuck around to help me. I laid on top of the cab, poking, probing, and trying to move the window lever while the garage-man pulled down on the small window gap to decrease resistance in the lever. It was a great sight as testified by a small group of onlookers randomly hanging out in the parking lot.

A half an hour later, we'd succeeded! The onlookers cheered with almost patronizing enthusiasm. I raised my fists and cheered back; that night, both my absent-mindedness and genius merited recognition.

Ender Will Save Us All - Dashboard Confessional

And I am throwing away the letters that I am writing you, 'cause they would never do - I would never do.

I like the idea that no one is alone. It's something I've tried to perpetuate among my close friends for a long time. I have laughed with them, and I have suffered with them. Everyone has their low moments, and during those times the physical presence of another human being can do wonders. (Not always obviously, sometimes solitude really IS best.) Often having someone present to put their arm(s) around you and tell you truthfully that things will be okay is all it takes to make life tolerable again.

The problem I am running into now is that most of my friends have left Provo; I have left Provo. I can't be there when they need me, and it's frustrating as hell. The phone or even IM, is a nice consolation, but it's not always enough.

There is something in me that is never satisfied when it knows more could be done. The internal difficulty arises when that "more" is unreasonable. Even though it's possible, I can't really just trot over to Indiana or Utah or wherever for the evening when a friend is on the verge of breaking down. No matter what I do or where I go, I will always have friends who are too far away to visit, and my ability to comfort them will always be severely hindered.

So maybe people are alone after all. Regardless of outside help, their personal battles are their own. Friends have the capcity to ease the burden, but tonight, it's simply not enough.

Saints and Sailors - Dashboard Confessional

Like water through my hands, You'd give him any ending, But if he's all you say, Would he fly from heaven to this world again?

Good for blogging: "Mike, I'm freaking out." PG's fading love interest. The resignation of the company pessimist. Self-inflicted Handicaps. Elliott Smith and the Big Nothing.

On Monday I went with Biotech girl and TN girl to the FHE service project. Apparently, whenever "men" organize the proect, there are never enough things to do and people spend much time standing around. We stuck around anyway and had a good time. Back at their place, I jump in my truck and head home.

CLUNCK, GRIND, GRIND, CLUNK. Something is wrong...emergency brake is off...transmission works fine...no dead bodies clinging to the undercarriage...I pull over and find that my rear tire is completely flat. "No problem." Oh yeah, my jack is broken. I walk back to the girls' place and borrow a crappy jack. Oh yeah, I've never used the spare on this thing. Oh yeah, I don't even know how to get the spare OFF the harness. "Damn..."

It's now 10:00pm; then rear axle is off the ground, the lug nuts are off, and the spare is ready to go. Something else is wrong. Despite all the kicking and banging I could muster, the wheel won't budge. It's now 10:30, and I've still had no luck. Concluding that I'm retarded, I abandon ship and head home. TN girl was kind enough to take me home.

The following day, after consulting with my father, my car savy co-workers, and the dealership, I decide I'm not so stupid afterall. Unfortunately, the problem is not fixed, and I have 8 miles to bike uphill in 85 degree weather.

I return to the scene of the crime with a mallet and ballpeen hammer. I bang and kick and twist and turn for an hour straight. Still no luck. In a last ditch attempt, I pump up my tire with a bicycle pump, locate the hole, and patch it with a $5 autozone special.

Problem solved. Solution time: 10 minutes. Promblem solving time: 4 hours.

This experience lends a few thoughts:

2. Strange. I was hot, exhausted, frustrated, failing with everything. But I'm not angry. Maybe I'm not like my father after all.

3. Man, what a piece of work I am. I've spent the last 15 years of my life learning to fix crap. Give me a $30,000 gas chromatograph that hasn't been used in six years, and I'll have it up and running by the end of the day. Give me a $60 busted tire and a little rust from MY OWN car, and I'm completely SOL. The irony is lovely.

4. For a change, I DID do things correctly, yet the "correct" response was the wrong one. The solutions was indeed simple. It just took time to find.

5. Dang. My hand hurts. Stupid soft, spongey body of mine.

Fly From Heaven - Toad the Wet Sprocket

Sic transit gloria, glory fades...

"GOALS." I hate that term, and unjustifiably, the business world that uses it at EVERY meeting, too many checklists, too many hoops for my taste. Somehow, I'm not smart enough to get done what I need, so I must set milestones in order to assure my tiny little brain that he's making progress.

At work a couple days ago, we had a big meeting that addressed "core values" and "BHAG's" (Big Hairy Audacious Goals). The idea behind a BHAG is you set a ridiculously lofty goal and THEN decide how to get there. It's like running a 4:30 mile when your PR is a 5:15. You can either set up small increments and improve each time (5:00 to 4:45 to 4:35 and so on). Or you can set a super high goal (say 4:15) and go from there. The idea is that the former method will get you down to a 4:35, and the latter will utilize your full potential and get you to a 4:25 or even the 4:15.

I.E. the human mind/body is always more capable than people realize.

Being a realist in the professional world, I feel the R&D BHAGs were overly unreasonable; I'm being asked to run a 3:00 mile, something no single human has ever done. My mentor agreed.

However, I must admit that no one proves me wrong better or more frequently than moi-meme. As I mentioned in a previous post, I've spent the whole summer trying to regain the strength and speed I lost last winter. I haven't touched a 225 lb barbell since early 2005 (I'll confess, my statement before was a guess, a generous one even), and I continue to struggle with 200 lb barbells time to time. Today, amongst a significant amount of personal frustration, I ignored yesterday's self-council and grabbed the 225. With no spotter, I hit a set of five, four, and four reps.

Either my anger has made me powerful or the irony Gods just wanted me to feel stupid. They do that a lot these days.

What's the point in going 'round when it's a straight line baby, a straight line down?

I've been taking voice lessons for a while now. One thing I have had to focus on is my range. I've been trying to consistently hit the G# an octave below middle C. Instinctively, I try to hit the note without scales. I figure, "G# is the note I need, so there is no reason to waste my time with A or B flat."

At work, I need to get five thermocouple probes into a three inch peace of 1/4 inch SS tubing, and then seal them with epoxy. The direct route is to shove everything in place, assemble my reactor, and pour in the epoxy last.

At the gym, I'm trying to get back to reping 225 on the flat bench. I seem to have no reason to go straight to that weight and go at it.

Reality is not so kind. I can't hit G# because my A and B are not always strong. Epoxy is not viscous enough to oppose gravity, and I'll never get anywhere starting at 225 because I can't get out more than three reps when fresh.

Impatience is my greatest weakness. My teacher constantly reminds me that I must ease down into the lower notes using scales. I must stabilize A before I go lower. My boss reminds me that you have to let epoxy partially set up to increase viscosity. He also suggests I first plug the bottom of the tube with silicone caulk. Most professionals say you can build strength more efficiently when you keep your rep range from 4 to 6. 200 or 210 is a much better weight to build from.

Rarely rarely rarely is the effective solution the one closest at bird's eye view.

The First Single - The Format

That's simply my life story.

90 degrees and 50% humidity. Today, I couldn't have cared less.

MSU's son (age 21) is in town from Boston, and the three of us spent the day traipsing through Seattle. For the first time all summer I felt like a city dweller. Though I enjoyed looking at the Space Needle and Frank Gehry's Experience Music Project (the bizarrest thing since the Freemount Parade), they didn't make me feel like anything but a tourist. Who wants that? In the hot summer air, we spent four hours doing nothing but walking around. It was great. The streets are inundated with shops and people of all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors. Today, I wanted to live in the city forever. City life is public transport, humongous book-stores masked as tiny shops, small authentic restaurants, music venues, and of course, rose flavored ice cream. Rose water, milk, sugar, cream, and rose petals. Awesome.

My Life Story - MXPX

Keeping a hold of what you just let go – You’re just somebody that I used to know.

Friend 1 was dating Person 1, then dumped by P1, then dating P1 again, engaged to P1, almost dumped by P1, engaged again, postponed by P1, on again, almost dumped again, back on again, and it’s not over yet.

A few of F1's friends are furious with P1. "How can F1 put up with P1!!!? How can F1 live with P1's self after hurting F1 so much. How can F1 continue to forgive P1? GAAHHHHH!!!! P1 can do soooo much better….P1 DESERVES better…"

There is a lot to be said here, but it's not my place. I will however make an observation on a theme I am only beginning to grasp.

F1 is not out of F1's mind. F1 is in love.

Unfortunate for my emotions, I have yet to understand how love works, but luckily, the last three years have taught me to identify it at the very least. To me (and yes I'm vastly over simplifying here), romantic love is the unconditional desire to be with someone. The power this feeling has on a person is unimaginable. And honestly, it's a great thing when shared by the other party. It holds people together, makes life better, happier.

What happens then, when love isn't shared with equal intensity? Should a person try to "make" it work or should he/she walk away concluding as did Elliott Smith in this post’s heading?

The emotional abuse of P1 is unacceptable, yet the happiness seen in F1 during the good times is unparalleled. How should a friend respond? Should a friend respond at all?

If F1 were to ask me, what advice would I give? I honestly don't know. As a friend, I say, "Walk away, you can find someone who treats you better, loves you more deeply, commits to you without hesitation, and appreciates you in ways P1 could never conceive." As Mike I say, "NEVER give up. No battle is lost!! All problems have solutions. People can change. You CAN win!" As an optimist, I say, "It CAN work! P1 will figure things out how great you are. P1 is young and will mature soon enough." As a pessimist, "You will never find anyone else better. P1 has flaws, but so does everyone else. At least you know about P1’s problems. You should stick with it." As a realist, I say, "6 billion people in this world, and only one of them can make you happy? COME ON..." As a brother, I would say, "Where is this SOB that I might scatter his entrails across I-15."

It's 3 to 3; I guess the choice is up to F1 after all. In chemical thermodynamics, engineers spend one semester learning about the ideal and the rest of their careers learning to understand/work with the nonidealites. How could people be any less complicated?

Take your time, hurry up, the choice is yours, don't be late.

The ducks are all in a row; I finally have a place to live in yee old SLC.

How I would love to drive home tonight and reunite with my Provo dwelling comrades-recently returned, newlywed, and/or still kicking. I wonder if I could get my boss to pay me for those last five weeks of work I'd miss...

Come as You Are - Nivana

I’m trying to find truth in words , in rhymes, in notes, In all the things I wish I wrote…

Horray for me!!! Utah now legally possesses my loyalty. On the bright side, I officially have no need to worry about tuition.

Friday evening I went with a couple co-workers and company at an outdoor presentation of Hamlet. Despite the scent of various burny things (weed, beef, charcoal, yeast, etc.), the play was awesome. The style was surprisingly humorous, and the performers were sarcastic. Hamlet reminded me of Ben Stiller and Claudius like John Malkovich. The costumes seemed to come partially from the Luhrmann's Romeo and Juliet, partially from DI. We sat in lawn chairs in a lake-side park right before sunset; it was awesome.

My co-workers had to bring along their newborns, and it made dinner surprisingly enjoyable. Babies ARE cute, but there was something more. The look in the eyes of the new parents struck me. I noticed a sparkle I’d never seen before.

Right now, the two social forces in my life are that of my LDS co-workers/church-related friends and that of MSU/non-LDS colleagues. I like both groups, but the contrast in their ideologies is significant. The latter feels very much, "Do your own thing. Relax. Do what makes sense. Don't let people push you around. Use your brain. 'Kids?' Meh. Another way for people to feed their egos." In contrast you have the LDS, "Follow the Lord and be a good person. Raise a righteous family, and find happiness in all that you do." In spite of the logical and physical consistency and in spite of all the intelligent ideals the non-believing world preaches as reality, I have never seen in them the level of content and sheer joy that I saw last night.

I'm ready I am - The Format