Mormons are people too!

I recently saw The Iron Lady and of the fistfuls of memorable quotes, my favorite line was, "I will not die washing out a saucer!"

And yet . . . the movie ends with Margaret Thatcher washing out a saucer.

Which made me realize that one of the biggest perks of writing movies would be making powerful people eat their words!

I also recently saw The Artist. My favorite line? "We need to talk, George."

Get it? We need to talk? And it's a silent movie?

Another perk of writing movies--making powerful people swallow their words.

As if that wasn't enough movie watching, I also saw Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and I quickly discovered that the incredibly closer you sit to the screen, the extremely louder a movie becomes.

My favorite line was "Maybe everyone is looking for something?" True that. I actually was looking for something--a seat farther away from the screen because I find the less extremely loud pain is, the more I can enjoy it.

You get me?

I only say this because I am not a pretty crier. If my eyeballs even think about breaking a sweat, they swell up like a blowfish and my hub has to turn away and avoid eye contact so he doesn't turn to stone.


Sometimes I'd rather not feel and be cranky, than feel and be ugly.

Is that vain?

You probably think there's no pleasing me, huh? Since my last post was dissing the loud happy, and this post is dissing the loud sad.

It's just that at times the sheer volume of the collective sad is so deafening I think my head might spin around and pop off.

But I assure you I don't discriminate. I can see the up and down sides of both.

DOWNSIDE TO LOUD HAPPY: it can make you oblivious to sad.

UPSIDE TO LOUD SAD: it can chip your stone cold heart and make you want to spread happy.

Especially if the loud sad people are people you love.

Gosh dang love. Makes you prettier and uglier all at once.

And that, my friends, is why I love The Crash Test Dummy. She looks at both the bright side and the dark side and laughs in the face of both.

And then she chases life down with a Coke.

Because it's the real thang, baby.

Wish I could do that.

But I don't even like Coke.

Anyways, that's not my point. I actually came here to tell you that I may have been a little off on the happy Mormon thing. My ex-door neighbor, Martha put a few Gallup Poll links in my comment box which claim that while the Provo-Orem area ranks #1 in optimism, the state of Utah only ranks #4 in happyness.

Of course Hawaii ranks #1. For the third year in the row. Which is weird since I moved away from Hawaii almost exactly three years ago.

Also weird is that Utah ranked #1 in happyness before I moved here, but has now fallen behind North Dakota and Minnesota.

Do you think . . .

Nah, probly the year-round construction that's bringing us down.


So I know what Hawaii has that Utah doesn't have (except me), but what do North Dakota and Minnesota have that Utah doesn't have? (Besides Lawrence Welk and the artist formerly known as Prince.) Inquiring minds want to know.

Maybe if the Gallup Poll did a study on which state's happy was the loudest, Utah would rank #1, because if we're happy and we know it, we clap our hands, stomp your feet, and shout HOO-RAY?


I bet North Dakota and Minnesota don't do that.

You know, if you think about it, it's pretty cool that everything I need to know about happyness I learned in Primary.

Except one thing. That it's okay if you're not okay. I learned that on Smash.

It's okay if you're not okay.

Even if you're a Mormon.

Because Mormons are people too.

P.S. Since I'm telling you my favorite lines . . . here's my favorite line from my 15-year old son this week:

"Can you please do your laundry so I can do my laundry. Every time I do my laundry I have to do your laundry first."

P.S.S. He figured out the folding thing so his room doesn't have the stomach flu anymore.