Would You Marry You?

So, I came across this article, and was surprised at my gut reaction to the question: No.

This response then prompted me to spend the last week (yes, week) asking myself “why?”

What did I find so wrong with myself that I wouldn’t even consider marrying me?

Am I that difficult?

Is that one reason why I’m not married right now?

Do I expect perfection?

Is that another reason why I’m not married right now?

And if I were married, would I be disappointed?

Is that a third reason why I’m not married right now?



Needless to say, this week has made me a little bummed…But, it’s also made me double my efforts in fixing my faults, and improving my talents! And, honestly, it’s made me grateful that I have the chance to do so.

This life is all about refining ourselves, right?

So, what do you think? Would you marry you?

Friday Fluff

In today’s fluffy post, prepare yourselves for shock, intrigue, and spy amazement!

Oh, and find out where I’m moving in 2010 if I have nothing else going for me!!


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All I can say is it's about time!!

When this is finally available to the masses, I’m going to be the first in line to buy it! Just think of all the places I could go and be undetected!!

Well, actually, I can’t think of any off the top of my head, but I’m sure there are some places I'd want to go undetected. Give me a minute... um…

______________

And to stick with our undercover spy theme, did you hear about this? Who knew that she could cook up a mean bouillabaisse and at the same time gather secret info. on the Nazis!

What an awesomely awesome woman!!

______________

This last one has nothing to do with the other two, but I’m thinking of moving there. You know, since the mayor gave a “shout out” and all.

My favorite line in the article is when the mayor refuses to apologize because he’s “telling it like it is.”

There's hope for me at last!

Marriage, here I come!!

Whose with me?




Have a great weekend everyone*.





*And remember, there’s some desperate miner in a remote town in Australia just waiting for you! Isn’t life grand?!

Note to Future Husband

Being an old spinster (Is that redundant?), I’ve had plenty of time to think about things in my daily life that I don’t want to do if, no when (trying to be positive), I get married. I think that’s one of the problems of being single longer and living on your own. You know what you like, what you don’t like, and what you won’t compromise on. (At least what you think you won’t compromise on. (You’ll understand what I mean by this when you get to the end of this post.))

So, in the spirit of full disclosure, I've decided to continue with my "list of 5 things." This time focusing on 5 things my hubby would need to do. You’ll notice that some of the more husband-type jobs like “take out the trash,” “mow the lawn,” and “kill spiders” are not included. I feel those are givens in a marriage, and he should already be prepared to do them.

This list is just going to include things that he might not know fall into his domain…

Five things that my husband will need to do (to make me super happy, and thus, himself happy (because if I'm not happy, he'll have a hard time (not that I want to be difficult, but still, I have some requirements (Just as he should)))):

1. Picking avocados. (I’ve already discussed why in my previous post.) Actually, there’s a lot of produce I’m not good at choosing. So, I’ll probably put him in charge of all the fruit and veg selection. For example, I’m terrible at selecting kiwis, tomatoes, melons of any variety, and squash. If he doesn’t want to be in charge of this, then he must sign a waiver that he will never, EVER complain about the quality of produce I bring home, or that it was a waste of money because it wasn’t even edible. (And I'm serious about the signed waiver. I'm going to laminate it and put it on the fridge.)

2. Grocery shopping. Well, since I already want him to pick out the produce, he might as well do all the shopping. Mostly, because I hate grocery shopping. ( I feel there are too many choices, and I can’t ever decided and then the next thing you know it’s been 40 minutes and I’m still in the bread aisle reading all the labels. Stupid high fructose corn syrup! It’s in everything!! A pox upon you!!!) If he would do the grocery shopping, I would agree to never put any feminine hygiene products on the list. (Even though I would think he was a dork for being embarrassed to buy the stuff.) But, I’d make that compromise. (Oh, and remind me to tell you about the time my dad went to buy lady items for me, my sisters, and my mom. Hilarious!)

3. Allow me to sing songs to fall asleep. I do this often. (And I say “allow” not because I need his permission, but because I’m assuming we’ll be in the same room, and show tunes can be disruptive.) I have a hard time sleeping, and singing helps for some reason. (I think because it stops me from pondering. Once I begin pondering, I'm done for!) He would need to be understanding of this, and not make fun of me when I have to change keys in the middle of my rendition of “Sunrise, Sunset.” Besides, I'm sure he'd rather hear me sing a few songs, then keep him up all night as I talk about my interpretation of Jesus' "Sermon on the Mount" or how I feel about wax paper used as art.

4. Washing the dishes. I HATE WASHING DISHES! And I know about dishwashers, but I still feel you have to semi-wash before you put them in the dishwasher, and this annoys me. But, the only thing I hate more than semi-washing dishes is unloading the dishwasher and seeing all the junk that has now permanently hardened onto the cutlery. I detest that. So, he’ll have to wash. (I suppose I could compromise if he wants to cook some nights. But, if I cook, I won’t wash. I’m not a hired hand.)

5. Car stuff. My whole life I’ve had car problems. I’ve had blow-outs, stalls, semi-truck rubber from tires embedded in my grill (a HUGE piece), over-heated engines, rocks smashing glass, spins into oncoming traffic, batteries dying, green stuff leaking out everywhere, windows not rolling down, windows not rolling up, doors not opening, doors not closing, flat tires, shaking, swerving, and just about anything else you can imagine. All of this crappy car experience has made me a professional at handling problems. But, I don’t want to do any of it once I get married. I just want to call him and say “Hon, I’ve left the car on the 10 freeway. Deal with it.” (Oh, and just as a reminder, if you have to leave your car on the freeway blocking one of the lanes, ALWAYS leave a note explaining that you’ve gone for help. Police officers do not appreciate finding an abandoned car causing a traffic jam. Trust me.)

Well, there you have it. The first five things on my list! I have about 15 more, so I’ll probably post on this again.

Having a list this big makes me a little worried that I’m never going to find anyone to fit the bill. And what’s interesting to me is that the older I’ve gotten, the more the list has changed. (It’s gone from things like “be a returned missionary” to “does not spend the majority of his income on entertainment.”)

It makes me a little sad to see how cynical I’ve become as I’ve noticed more and more that women do a lot, if not most, of the compromising. Not in every marriage, of course, but many.

This is actually part of one of the more reflective posts I have coming up. So, all you married and single people, start thinking about either the relationship you’re in, and/or one’s you’ve observed, and get ready for a conversation on marriage, women, and feminism. (And not crazy feminism, just helpful kind.)

‘Cause, it’s a comin’!

Brothers

So, one of my brothers is expecting a baby. (Actually, two are, but I'm just talking about the one.)

And, last week he went with my sister-in-law to have one of those 4-D ultra-sound thingies done. While there, they were told that it appeared that the baby had a really huge head (Knechts, you understand this), and the doctor was concerned about it. So, they scheduled a follow up ultra-sound to make sure it's not large because of fluid.

Needless to say, this whole week my family has been praying for lil' Joe (or, as we've been calling him "lil' big Joe), and hoping that everything would be all right.

The ultra-sound was today, and I received this text message from my brother

Baby is fine just gots a big head thanks for your prayers

Straight and to the point.

I love brothers.

Open Letter: Valentine's Day

Dear Valentine’s Day,

I love you!

I know, you’re surprised, right? I bet you thought I hated you. So many people do, after all. But not me! Now, don’t go getting a big head about this or anything. I don’t like everything about you.

For example*, I can’t stand all the dumb jewelry commercials that take over the TV (as if women can be bought). (Inner letter: Dear Women of the World, Don’t be bought by some meaningless piece of jewelry. It’s a waste. How does he treat you? Does he take out the trash? These are the things that matter. Sincerely, Liz)

I also don’t like all the crap in the stores. Mass marketing has sucked the life out of you, Valentine’s Day. (FYI: If I had a husband (looking skyward and throwing a silent prayer to the heavens), I wouldn’t want him to buy me any of the junk that has been commercially produced. No, I’d want him to write me a sonnet, or at the very least, a letter. And I’d want him to do all the little chores I’ve been nagging him to do for the last three months.)

But, despite all this, I still love you. Why? Because today thousands of people take the time (however begrudgingly) to tell a person that he or she is loved. And this is a good vibe to send out into the atmosphere. Love!

So often, the daily-ness of life takes over. We have to rush to pick up our dry cleaning. Or stop by the grocery store. Or pay the bills. Or get gas. Or drop off the kids at their soccer game. Or go to work. Etc. And we get so involved with just surviving that we forget to thank those around us. We forget that some other person in this world has agreed to marry us and be a witness to our lives. We forget parents who’ve sacrificed everything. Siblings who are our friends. Friends who are our family.

We forget that life is about loving one another.

And, hopefully, you help us remember that, Valentine’s Day. You help us stop and dedicate a day to love. And I just wanted to say “thanks.”

Love,
Liz


*I also HATE when people call you “Valentime’s Day.” It’s “tines” people, not “times”!!! I mean, seriously, why do people say this? Ugh!

100 Reasons that I’m happy I’m single-- #64

To stick with my New Year’s Resolution to be more positive, I’ve decided to post reasons to be happy that I’m single.

But, I want to add, that I fully recognize that there are just as many reasons to be happy I’m married. However, since this isn’t my reality (marriage, that is), I’m just going to focus on “single” reasons to be happy. (I expect one of my married friends to handle the married reasons.)

I’ve come up with an extreemly long list of things. Some very light-hearted, and some not. This is not one of the light-hearted ones, but I’m going to start with it because it’s come up recently in my own life.

With that, Reason #64:

I’m happy I’m single because I don’t have to deal with my spouse being addicted to p*rn.*

I had a friend come to me with the news that she has just found out that her husband has an addiction to p*rnography. I’ve talked with her about this before, in passing, when we’ve discussed things that are bringing the world down. And I’ve mentioned that p*orn is something that the LDS church is fighting against.

She came to me to vent, but to also ask if I had any information that might help her (and her husband) deal with this. I, of course, immediately started hitting the church website looking for anything that might be helpful. I’ve found tons of talks, and also some links to other sites that deal with this problem.

One site that I came across for Mormon moms had this post.

As I read through all the anonymous comments, it just about broke my heart! Those poor women. Those poor men. What can be done? It makes me so angry that such good men can be brought down by this. And it makes me angry that because of shame and fear of judgment, women (and husbands) must suffer in silence.

I don’t know what I can do for my co-worker, except to be here for her. I told her that her husband wasn’t a horrible man. That many great guys have this problem. And that it’s something they must try to work through together.

I don’t know how I’d handle it, though, if it were me. I don’t think divorce is the answer in every case. But I do think it is in some. Right now, he wants to change, so she wants to help him. And I see that as a good sign.

For now, they are in my prayers. As are all who suffer from this addiction.

And I’m grateful that as a singleton, I don’t have to worry about this.


* Just in case you don’t know, I’m using the little * so my blog isn’t linked to icky sites.

A Thought on Men and Women: Part III

Read part 1 and part 2.

3. It’s a personal reaction to #1 and #2. No one wants to be pitied (“I wonder if every time we talk about our kids, Liz feels sad? Poor lonely Liz.”), and no one wants other people to feel awkward talking about certain topics around them (“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about our husbands since Liz doesn’t have one. Poor lonely Liz.”) And that’s what I feel happens, eventually.

And any time I try to tell people that I’m usually okay with not being married, I don’t think they believe me. Or, they think I’ve just “given up” or “lack faith.” And this irks me to no end.

Sure, there are some moments when I wonder what my kids would look like, or if any man would ever find the fact that I sometimes sing myself to sleep, endearing. But, over all, I’m fine. And this is why:

I believe in a Heavenly Father who loves me and has a plan for my life.

I believe that the plan He has for my life is just as good and rewarding as the plan He has for those who get married.

I believe that my life is just as inspired and valued and divinely guide as those who are moms with children.

I believe that I am here to follow “the first and great commandment” which as we all know is “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind” as well as the second “Thou shalt love they neighbor as thyself” (Matt. 22: 37-39).

Marriage and family is ONE way to accomplish those commandments. It’s not the only way.

I have full faith that everything I need to learn in this life will be provided for me. If that includes a husband and children, then great! If not, then it wasn’t necessary for me at this time. It’s as simple as that.

Of course, I know I have to do my part in the marriage area. But that doesn’t include agonizing over it, and having a miserable life!

If you are a righteous person, keep all the covenants you’ve made, and generally do the best you can, then Earth Life will be the only time you’ll be single. Think about it! The freedom of it all is astounding, really. And I plan on enjoying it while I can!

I’m more than happy to wait on the Lord’s time for marriage and family. (After all, maybe that means that during the Millennium, I’ll get to marry a Scottish highlander who died in 1367, or a Civil war veteran, or an ancient Samurai warrior. That sounds much more exciting then marrying Ned from accounting, anyway. (Although, if Ned is my meant-to-be, then it will work out with him.(And, no, I don’t really know a Ned from accounting.)))

This, my friends, was basically what I told my V.T. companion and the sister we were visiting. They really seemed to understand that it’s not that I don’t like them; it’s not that I think THEY are boring, it’s just that we’re living different lives. Good lives, valuable lives, but different. And that’s okay.

“But, Liz,” you’re thinking, “you’ve talked a lot about women, but you haven’t said anything about men like you stated in the title of your post!”

Well, I told you that I was going to give some background AND a digression, didn’t I?

Here’s where the men part fit into our conversation:

After my long diatribe on the married/unmarried thing, I then told them that I would love to come to their girl night sometime (after all, I do like them) and that I frankly wouldn’t mind also popping over on one of their play dates (after all, I do like little children).

And that’s when I had this epiphany:

Single female (whom you met thru V.T.) wanting to come over to hug and play with your kids = good (Poor lonely single sister).

Single male (whom you met thru H. T.) wanting to come over to hug and play with your kids = creepy (Has someone talked to the Bishop?).

Yep, that was it.

A thought on Men and Women: Part II

Continued from here.

She then went on the say that they really would love for me to come; that they wouldn’t mean to leave me out of the conversation, but that they would probably talk about those things; that she hoped if I came I would help steer the conversation to topics other than husbands and kids.

I appreciated her comments, and saw this as a window of opportunity to tell them exactly what I thought about the whole thing.

I then proceed to give them three reasons why I would probably never come to many (if any) of their girl nights:

1. I don’t think married women, and married women with children, realize how much their conversations focus on those aspects of their lives. Almost all of it does. Really, almost all. And this is perfectly natural, normal, and nice. It’s the way it should be. All of us unmarried, childless friends realize this and don’t mind listening because we LOVE our married friends and care about their lives. But, to a person who is not any of those things, and therefore, can’t really relate, it eventually becomes uninteresting if it’s the only topic being discussed. It’s like chatting with someone who has a hobby that consumes most of their time—if you don’t share that hobby, talking to them about it, and only it, is a sure fire way to create boredom (even if the person you’re talking to is a friend).

Now, of course, marriage/children are not equal to a hobby. Marriage and children have eternal value (and consequences) that collecting porcelain replicas of two-toed sloths do not. And because of this greater weight (eternally speaking), this leads to reason #2.

2. Whether it is intentional or not, single people are made to feel that what they are doing with their lives is a great way to use their time “until” they get married, but that it is not on par with BEING married and having children. Single lives are “in the meantime.”

Let me put it another way: It’s like those who are unmarried are still in school working towards their degree, and those who are married have finished school and actually have a career. The problem with this perspective is that it leads to condescension, patronization, and pity. And this is especially true in the world of Mormon women.

We, women, have the belief that our only goal is to be a wife and mother. That’s it. And so any other derivative is either wrong (like a woman who chose a career over family), or sad (like a woman who never had the opportunity for a family). And this viewpoint colors our conversations with one another.

(Now before you married friends of mine protest that you don’t find us singles “sad” or that our lives are incomplete, answer me this: If you could wave a magic wand and have all of your friends be happily married right now, would you? If you said, “yes,” then why? I’ll answer for you. Because being happily single is second best to being happily married. And that means if you’re single, you’re seen as living a runner-up life. It’s that simple.)

And this leads me to reason #3 which you’ll have to wait for tomorrow.


************** Stay tuned for Part III**************

A Thought on Men and Women

You know, and I know, that there are differences between men and women. Some natural, some cultural. I normally don’t think about it much (despite my feminist leanings). But, I had an interesting conversation while doing my visiting teaching last week that made me pause and reflect.

A little background first (and a little digression).

In regards to visiting teaching, I’m surrounded by young married couples with small children. This includes my V.T. companion as well as the three sisters we visit. I like all of them, and enjoy our monthly get togethers. They are great women, and are doing a wonderful job being wives and mothers.

But, I must admit, I find a lot of their conversation, well, boring.

While my fantastic (and I do mean, fantastic) companion is talking to them about husband-stuff and kid-things, I normally end up playing with their little ones (which I love). I occasionally chime in with some kind of positive head-nod. But, a lot of the time, I just observe the conversation while playing peek-a-boo.

I’m okay with this for the most part. I realize that they’re just in a different stage of life than I am, and that both ways are good and valid. And though I find a lot of what they discuss dull (which I'm sure goes both ways), I see the inherent value of it, and don’t mind listening at all.

In fact, I’ve learned a lot from their conversations. And this last week was no exception.

Now, if you know me, I’m very direct. I can broach any subject, no matter how awkward or painful, and do it in such a way that the person I’m talking to thanks me for telling them the truth. I do this with co-workers, friends, friends of friends, etc.

I can be blunt, but non-offensive. It’s a gift, really (and one that's mentioned in my Patriarchal blessing, by the way). And I had to employ it at my last V. T. assignment.

They were talking about having a girl’s night out (which they do, often) after our visit. And they invited me to join them. They always do. And I declined. I always do.

But this week, instead of just nodding their heads and saying something about my being busy, my partner asked me “why?” and then went on to postulate that it was because I wasn’t married and had no children, and, therefore, wouldn’t feel included.

I was surprised at her frankness. (Normally, I find that my fellow sisters in the gospel are ever so careful about what they say in regards to my spinster-ly childless status (aside from the occasional “Hang in there! Your special someone will come, eventually. Just have faith!”))


************** Stay tuned for Part II**************

Open Letter of High Importance

Dear Men Who Use the First Floor Unisex Bathroom,

SWEET LAND OF LIBERTY!!!

What are you guys doing in there? I mean, really. What in the world? I don’t know if you’ve heard the “born in a barn” expression before, but seriously, were you born in a barn and left with a mama pig? (Apologies to anyone actually born in a barn. I bet that’s a cool story. Do tell.)

Every time one of you guys leaves the bathroom, it’s like a stampede of cattle stormed through the place whose only mission was to find every piece of hygienic paper, shred it, and throw it on the ground.

You are grown men right? I mean, you have jobs, I know that much. And you seem to be competent in them. But your bathroom etiquette makes me wonder. Is it because you’re inherently lazy and assume someone is going to pick up after you? I bet that’s it, right? Yeah, that’s it.

What’s wrong with you?! Pick up after yourselves! Or, better yet, put things directly in the trash can. Stop trying to make a basket. You have to miss 9 out of 10 anyway. Face it, you stink at making baskets.

Speaking of stink…for the love of humanity (and everyone who has an office near the bathroom), get some help.

Gratefully (if you take my advice) or Disgruntledly (if you don’t),

Liz

Friday Fluff*

So, I’ve been sick for three days (which is why I haven't really blogged).

This has caused me to miss two days of work.

And this has caused me to be miserably behind on everything.

And what am I thinking about?

How to catch up?

Nope.

I’m wondering if somewhere in this crazy world there's a mullet man for me, whom I can take my picture with in a wine glass and send it to all of my friends.

Fingers crossed.











*By the way, I've decided to make "Friday Fluff" a recurring character on my blog so as to lift our spirits in preparation for the weekend.

Alaskan Highlight-My Cruise Ship Boyfriend

So, I’ve decided that whenever I think of a funny/interesting story/incident that happened on my cruise to Alaska, I would make a post about it.

To begin, for those of you who have not been on one, all the people who work on the ship wear name tags that also list their country of origin. I found this VERY interesting! I loved knowing where everyone was from. In fact, I had a knack (some might even call it a gift) for reading their tags at a glance.

My sisters were of no help on this. Really, they stunk at it unless the person stood still, was directly in front of them, and I told them to read the tag. So, normally, it was up to me to quickly read country names as they whisked away my cutlery. We even began to keep track.

(With the plethora of countries that were aboard, I must admit that I was a little disappointed that our cabin steward was from Mexico. Because, let’s face it, living in So. Cal., Mexico isn’t that foreign to me. I know and love lots of Mexicans.)

What I really wanted was a person from a country that I’ve never, and probably will never, visit. And that’s what I got when I met my cruise ship boyfriend.

It was across a crowd room, literally. We were having lunch at the onboard pizza place, and that’s when I spotted Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.

His name was Darko. (Make sure you roll the ‘r’ when you say it and put a little ancient mystery in your voice). And he was from Macedonia. Yes, Macedonia.

Now, if you’re like me, you might have initially thought, “Aren’t the Macedonians extinct? Or was that the Babylonians?” It was the Babylonians, my friends. Macedonia is alive and well and putting out very attractive fellas.

You might also be thinking “Liz, did Darko know he was your cruise ship boyfriend?” Of course not. He was a married father, after all. (I overheard him taking one night in his fantastic accent about his family. And no, I didn’t stalk him around the ship.) But, I sure enjoyed seeing him!

I even tried to get a picture of him before we left. Well, actually, I tried to make Catherine take a picture of him. But, it didn’t work. It was hard to get him to stay still without asking him to stay still. It was also hard to do it nonchalantly. And we had second thoughts about what others might think of chubby girls taking pictures of the dinning room (which is what it looked like we were doing). Such thoughts as “Boy, they really just came for the food.”

So, sadly, I have no pictures to show you of my Greek dreamboat. But, I still have fond memories of Darko (‘r’ rolled), from Macedonia, my cruise ship boyfriend.

The List

AVAILABLE MEN FOR SINGLE WOMEN IN THEIR 30’S: (I’m working on a catchier title)

1. Never-Been-Married Man:

Lucky Find: A man in his 30’s who is normal, well-adjusted, employed, faithful, and not addicted to anything destructive. These men are very hard to find. I think there are only about 8 of them left in the wild.

Likely Find: A man in his 30’s who seems normal, well-adjusted, employed, faithful, and not addicted to anything destructive, but actually is odd and/or crazy which is why he has never been married.

Incidentally, there is another category here that includes a man who is wonderful in every way, but has not yet come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t like girls (and there seems to be a lot of these).

2. Once-Married-But-Divorced Man*:

Lucky Find: A man in his 30’s who is normal, well-adjusted, employed, faithful, not addicted to anything destructive, and has been married, but is now divorced. These men are more plentiful than Lucky option number one, but they do carry some baggage that will have to be dealt with (which is usually not a problem because he’s a great guy).

Likely Find: A man in his 30’s who is divorced, and you can tell why (although, he doesn't see it and completely blames the other person). These guys are everywhere! Poor fellows.

3. Once-Married-But-Now-A-Widower Man*:

Lucky Find: A man in his 30’s who is normal, well-adjusted, employed, faithful, not addicted to anything destructive, and has been married, but who’s wife has died. These men are not as abundant as divorced guy, but the older YOU get, the more they appear. Again, since he’s such a quality man, it’s usually not a problem**.

Likely Find: A man in his 30’s who once was normal, well-adjusted, etc., but because of the loss of his wife, he is no longer any of those things. You feel sorry for the guy, and want to help him heal, but beware, it's a trap.



* Whether he's a Lucky or Likely Find, if he has children, that complicates things dramatically. Don’t get me wrong, if he’s the Lucky one, it’s worth it. But, if he’s the other kind, walk away quickly. You don’t need that mess.

** My only problem with Widower Man is that I would then be his wife number two. And those of you who know me, know my motto is “I’m wife number one, or wife number none. Wife number two, won’t do.” So this would be hard for me, personally. But, given the right spiritual promptings, I could get over it (I think).

A Fella Dilemma

So, I’ve been thinking about men recently.

And how I don’t have one.
And how I don’t really care that I don’t have one.
But how I’m worried that at one point I will care.
And by then it will be too late (if it isn’t already).

And then I was thinking about what I would be willing to sacrifice to get one?
Or would I be willing to sacrifice anything?
Or should I have to sacrifice anything?

And then I thought about what I’d be willing to put up with to have one?
Or would I be willing to put up with anything?
Or should I be willing to put up with anything?

All this “thinking” was brought on by a conversation I had with Rachel (Hi, Rachel) about a mutual friend who is marrying a man whose wife died 4 (or was it 5) months ago while giving birth to their 7th child. They met online and are getting married in September.

Now, I know this person. She is an amazing woman. Very intelligent, and not one to make rash decisions. So, I know that if she’s agreed to marry him, then she’s had confirmation from the Spirit that it's the right thing to do.

But, I have to admit, my first thought was “What the?”

And then my next thought was “The only way I’d do that is if the angel Moroni himself came and blew his horn in my face declaring that it should be so!”

Rachel and I then talked about options, or more specifically, our options of marriage and the kind of men that are available as we get older.

(You know the saying that there are always more fish in the sea, but that the older you get, the more there are floating at the top.)

So, I made a list of our available options, in no particular order. (Well, kind of in order of my personal preferences.)

But, since this post is already so long, I’ll give you the list tomorrow. In the meantime, how would you arrange your list of fellas?